For Love of Magic
by Noodlehammer
Summary: A different upbringing leaves Harry Potter with an early knowledge of magic and a view towards the Wizarding World not as an escape from the Dursleys, but as an opportunity to learn more about it. Unfortunately, he quickly finds that there are many elements in this new world that are unwilling to leave the Boy-Who-Lived alone.
1. Chapter 1

**OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER:** **I don't own anything except the fanfic itself. The cake is a fake and the pie is a lie.**

 **So this is my attempt at a new fanfic instead of yet another Naruto crossover with the same characters I've been using for the past two years. For those of you who actually wanted me to do that, sorry xD. I might go back to that every once in a while, but for now I'm going to try my hand at this and see what happens.**

 **One of the first things you will note in this fic is the fact that I've moved up the HP timeline by twenty years. This was mostly done because I don't want to break my mind trying to remember what the world was like in the 90s, just in case a need to actually do so comes up. I was just a wee lad at the time, and not one that paid much attention to his surroundings.**

 **Another thing is that there are no pairings listed. This is done on purpose, because even** _ **I**_ **don't know who Harry will end up with, if he will even end up with anyone. I do have certain females in mind, but I tend to make things up as I go rather than having it planned, so nothing is for sure. Please don't ask me about pairings in reviews or in PM's, it will just make me feel bad about ignoring you.**

 **I will try to avoid fanfiction cliches, but considering how many of them there are, it's probably inevitable that I'll use a few. I will try to avoid bashing any characters for example, even though some of them make it way too easy.**

 **Extra special thanks go to Joe Lawyer, who agreed to act as a beta and helped me improve this chapter to the point where it actually felt worth uploading.**

 **Minor thanks go to kishinokurobi, whose sarcastic feedback in poorly typed out English that was worthy of an American stereotype served to amuse me. It also gave me a second opinion that the first chapter wasn't totally horrible, but the amusement was more important.**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

On November 1st, 2001, wizards and witches all across Britain and even Europe were celebrating the fall of the Dark Lord Voldemort the previous night. Most of the credit for this was falling on the shoulders of Harry Potter, toddler extraordinare. The logical incongruity of a year old baby defeating a full fledged Dark Lord was ignored in the wave of relief at the unexpected turn of good fortune.

Albus Dumbledore was one of the few who were not celebrating. He strongly suspected that Voldemort was not truly dead and he knew the prophecy. Harry Potter had to be kept safe from the retaliation of his former student's supporters. He also knew that Killing Curses did not get reflected on fits of whimsy. Indeed, they were not supposed to get reflected at all.

The magical backlash of what happened had wiped away all traces of evidence that could be used to determine the truth of events, but he strongly suspected the machinations of Harry's parents to be the cause. Or at the very least, the machinations of Lily Potter. Alas, he would likely never know for certain what kind of protection had been invoked.

What he _did_ know however, was that the protection still lingered in young Harry Potter's blood. That could be used to keep the boy safe until it was time for him to come to Hogwarts. He would still need to consider the implications of the shard of Voldemort's soul that was lodged in the lightning bolt scar, but he fortunately had time to do that instead of needing to make rash decisions.

Though it pained him to do it, he drained Lily Potter's still cooling body of blood and used it to establish a powerful blood ward around the residence of Petunia Dursley, forging a bond between Lily's squib sister and young Harry that would anchor the ward without need for a heart stone or ley line.

He obliviated this knowledge from the minds of the Dursleys, rightfully assuming that they would not be happy about his actions.

Then he left the newly orphaned baby on their doorstep with a note and left, certain that Harry Potter would be well cared for and safe until it was time for him to rejoin the Wizarding World.

It should be noted that Dumbledore had aquired several cognitive deficiences over the course of his long life. The two that were relevant in this situation was his certainty that he always knew best and his unwillingness to understand that people could have any other feelings aside from love for their family.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Vernon and Petunia Dursley were none too pleased at the disruptive addition to their comfortable normalcy. They knew Harry was a wizard and loathed what he represented, which easily transferred to the boy himself. Dudley, being an impressionable child, picked up on this and emulated it.

To be fair, there had been a chance for things to go better. After all, Harry was only a small child and any person who was not completely soulless would have their heart softened in the presence of an innocent baby. Perhaps he would not have been treated quite as well as Dudley and would always know that he had been an unwelcome addition to the family, but he would have been raised with more kindness than many received.

But Harry was a magical child and things happened when he got upset. Small children got upset often and that was without the added trauma of seeing their mother murdered right in front of them, even if he was too young to understand what had happened or to truly remember it.

With every occurence of something levitating to his hands because he wanted it or food being banished because he didn't want it, the fragile tolerance of the Dursleys diminished. This led to harsher treatment that in turn led to more distress for Harry and to ever more instances of accidental magic in a vicious, self-perpetuating cycle.

It came to a head one day when Harry was six. Dudley was picking on him as he often did and Harry was both frightened and angry. In a fit of prepubescent rage, he wanted Dudley to be hurt just like he was being hurt. The already obese boy was launched across the room, breaking one of Petunia's favorite lamps and cutting Dudely up bad enough that he would need stitches, as well as leaving him badly bruised.

That proved to be the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. The very next day, Vernon took a day off from work and drove Harry to an orphanage in London. He didn't even bother speaking to the people in charge, merely ordering him out of the car and telling him to knock on the door, accompanied by harsh warnings to never reveal who he'd been living with until then.

Harry had been honestly terrified at the purple faced rage on Vernon's face, so he obeyed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry had been tentatively hopeful about his new lot in life at first. Yes, it was an orphanage and he'd been told some horror stories about it, but at least the people here wouldn't hate him the way he could remember the Dursleys doing for his whole life. They wouldn't hit him for any infraction, perceived or imagined, or deny him food out of some vain hope to get rid of his 'freakishness'. Hopefully.

That hope didn't last more than a couple of days.

Young children were incredibly selfish creatures, not possessing much empathy and prone to thoughtless cruelty for the most inane of reasons. A strangely shaped scar on one's forehead was more than enough reason to turn just another orphan into a target.

Despite his previous experiences and his desire to not worsen the situation for himself, the outbursts of accidental magic resumed. Unfortunately, the age of six was not characterized by robust emotional strength, so this was more or less inevitable. It didn't take long until the matron of the orphanage learned of these supernatural events.

The woman was old and very strict. She had to be to manage several dozen children at her age. More importantly, she was very religious and quickly classified Harry's bursts of accidental magic as witchcraft. Correct though she was, it did not make Harry's life any easier.

It did give Harry some idea of what these strange occurences were though.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

About a year after Harry's arrival in the orphanage, he ended up being adopted.

A rich couple by the name of Robert and Katherine Shaw came by, looking for a child to adopt. They were instantly taken by Harry's emerald green eyes and raven black hair. The lightning bolt scar did bother them a bit, but not enough to detract from his other features and even that seemed to pass once they learned he'd gotten it in the car crash that killed his parents.

Though excited by the possibility of having a real family, Harry retained enough learned cynicism to be distrustful of his sudden good fortune.

It quickly became obvious to him that the Shaws wanted a status symbol rather than a son, which was the entire reason they had been so careful to pick a boy with striking features. Even the scar was something that could be used as a conversational segue into a bit of subtle bragging about how they had taken in an orphan that had lost his parents in such a horrible way.

He ate what he was told to eat, partook in activities they told him to partake in, studied hard in school and with the tutors they hired for him and smiled at people that he was told to smile at, even though he would like nothing better than to go somewhere that he could be alone.

There was little in the way of parental affection involved, but Harry had already lowered his expectations in life considerably by that point. He ate well, was not hit or berated for things he had no control over and there were no other children around to pick on him. It was the best he'd ever had it and didn't want to go back. The matron at the orphanage had made no mention of his magic to the Shaws and Harry had no intention of doing so either. Others knowing about it had always brought him trouble.

In his free time he researched mythology, read fantasy books, or played role playing games on his computer.

And when he was alone, he practiced his magic.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _To: Harry Potter_

 _Harry's bedroom_

 _74 Cromwell Road_

 _Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea, London._

Albus Dumbledore stared uncomprehendingly at the adress on Harry Potter's Hogwarts acceptance letter. That was not anywhere close to Privet Drive in Surrey. What in the world was the Boy-Who-Lived doing in one of the most affluent areas of muggle Londom and how had he gotten there?

If he hadn't taken a peek at the automatically written letter out of curiousity, he wouldn't have even known it. This was something that bore investigation and then an extended period of pondering on the acquired information. Clearly, simply sending the letter was not an option. A teacher would have to go and make the visit personally, but who to send?

Though he had faith that Severus would not let his grudge towards James Potter affect his conduct towards the man's son, the taciturn Potions Master had long made it clear that he would not have any more interaction with children than was absolutely necessary.

Filius would have no idea how to navigate muggle London and neither would a large part of the remaining staff for that matter. Oh, they would find the house just fine, but they would be too conspicuous.

Hagrid was out of the question for the same reason. Subtlety was not the half giant's forte.

That essentially left himself and Minerva, and the Headmaster could not show such blatant interest in a particular child.

Minerva was not going to be pleased with him and would no doubt once again have some choice words to say about his decision to place Harry with the Dursleys, but she would at least be happy to see the son of her favorite students.

He could find out what sequence of events led to the current situation from her, or failing that by paying a discreet visit to 74 Cromwell Road himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Is this some kind of joke?" Robert Shaw asked flatly, putting down the Hogwarts letter.

Minerva McgGonnagal ruthlessly kept herself from shifting uncomfortably in the obviously expensive sitting room she was in.

These two rich muggles had regarded her with thinly veiled disapproval that was eerily similar to what a traditionalist pureblood family might give a muggleborn ever since she had shown up on their doorstep. Well, that was not _entirely_ true. It was not as intense, nor as obviously discourteus, but it was clear that they didn't like her.

She wasn't normally the type to be made uncomfortable by having snobbish behavior aimed at her, or to tolerate it for that matter, but this was a special case.

These were apparently Harry Potter's foster parents and it made her skin crawl to think of the beautiful baby she remembered growing up to be a self-entitled brat like she suspected the Malfoy scion was going to be.

Though the lad himself seemed more curious than judgemental. His hair was cut fairly short, openly displaying his scar and a lot more tame than that of his father. He didn't seem to have inherited James' poor eyesight either, but his face was very similar. His eyes shone a bright green just like his mother's.

"I assure you, it is no joke." She replied stiffly. "Mr. Potter has been enrolled in Hogwarts by his parents before their deaths and has a place waiting for him."

The Shaws still looked sceptical.

"Would a demonstration convince you?" She asked, getting tentative nods in return.

Thinking it better to do something more minor than tranfiguring a piece of furniture into an animal, she took out her wand and levitated an empty tea cup.

The Shaw's stared in shock at the levitating bit of procelain.

"I see." Mr. Shaw said weakly. His wife merely looked stunned.

"Did my parents really die in a car crash?" Harry inquired politely.

"A car crash?!" Minerva spluttered. "Of all the...they most certainly did not!"

"How did they die then?"

Minerva held back a grimace. She'd been so outraged at the notion of a powerful pair of magicals like James and Lily dying in something as mundane as a muggle car crash that she hadn't even considered that she would now need to explain to him that they had been murdered by a Dark Lord.

And so the whole sordid tale came out. Minerva could clearly see that the Shaw's were discomfited by it, but Harry offered little reaction aside from occasionally asking a question. In turn, Minerva learned how Harry had come into the care of his foster parents. Hearing that she'd been even more right about the Dursleys than she'd known when she'd warned Dumbledore against placing him there nearly had her going into a proper Scottish rage, but the fact that he was away from them now calmed her down somewhat.

She would still be having some very strong words with Albus on the subject however.

Despite learning about magic, the Shaws were far from sold on the idea of letting Harry go to Hogwarts even though his tuition had already been paid for. They seemed quite set on the idea of sending him off to a muggle university instead of having him learn magic, despite Minerva's best efforts to convince them otherwise.

It was only upon her reluctant admittance that they would have their memories of this conversation removed if Harry did not go that they subsided. That was not a part of Wizarding culture that Minerva was proud of, but they couldn't just let any muggles who refused their child's Hogwarts invitation know about magic.

She was even less proud of the fact that she knew that the Boy-Who-Lived would never be allowed the choice to stay away from the magical world. He was simply too high profile and there was no doubt in her mind that the Minister of Magic would use some kind of legal loophole to have him removed from the care of the Shaws if he did not come willingly. The consequences of that decision did not bear thinking about.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"The Dursleys abandoned him in an orphanage?" Dumbledore asked in disbelief.

"I told you they were the worst kind of muggles!" Minerva spat. "I told you that it was a mistake to leave him there."

Dumbledore sighed regretfully. Truly, there had been little choice in the matter. Harry had been safest there, and he had to be kept away from the Wizarding World. Both of those were paramount. He could only hope that he would not have another Tom Riddle on his hands.

"At least it all turned out well." He said. "What is he like?"

"Polite and well mannered." She answered, a small frown still on her face. "He was interested in learning magic, though his foster parents were clearly not so taken with it. I have already told him that I would be returning in a few days to escort him on his first trip to Diagon Alley."

"I could have Hagrid escort young Harry, I know that you are busy." Dumbledore offered.

"Absolutely not!" McGonagall near snapped. "Good man though he is, Hagrid is in no way a suitable choice for introducing someone to magic and Mr. Potter is for all intents and purposes a muggleborn."

Dumbledore suppressed a frown. He had some tests planned for Harry and there was certain information that the boy needed to come across in order for that to work. But no matter, he could work around his deputy easily enough. He would just need to carefully time when to send Hagrid to pick up the Philosopher's Stone.

"Very well, if you feel you can fit another trip to Diagon Alley into your schedule, then by all means."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"This is the entrance to Diagon Alley?"

Minerva smiled slightly at the confused tone in Harry's voice. She supposed that the Leaky Cauldron really did look a bit dingy compared to the surrounding buildings.

"Indeed Mr. Potter." She confirmed. "Remember that you are quite famous in the Wizarding World. I would suggest that you put that cap of yours on."

Harry grimaced a bit but put the generic cap on his head. It would do a good enough job of hiding his scar to prevent a scene from happening. He was a bit dubious about this supposed fame of his, but wasn't willing to chance it in case the stern professor wasn't exaggerating.

They passed through the Leaky Cauldron without incident and were soon in Diagon Alley proper.

If not for the robes everyone was wearing, Harry would have though they'd stepped back in time. The Alley itself featured a cobblestone road that was far too narrow to be modern and a variety of similarly smallish buildings selling all manner of strange things.

"Come along Mr. Potter, our first stop is Gringotts, the wizard's bank." McGonagall said quietly, not wanting to give away his identity.

"What are those?" He asked with surprise as he saw a pair of obviously non-human guards.

"Goblins." She answered shortly. "A clever folk, and good with money. They are not the most pleasant sort, nor fond of wizards, but treat them respectfully and you should be fine."

Harry nearly stopped to stare at her incredulously. Goblin _bankers_? That was quite the departure from the fantasy stereotype of stupid, smelly creature that were typically used as cannon fodder. They were probably even more vicious though. Even human bankers were generally more vicious than a fantasy goblin; a fantasy goblin would just kill you, but a banker would take everything you own and make you kill yourself. That was what he'd gathered from the occasional grumbling of his foster father at any rate.

"Professor McGonagall!" A booming, jovial voice called out. "Fancy meetin' you here."

"Hagrid." Minerva greeted, giving the half-giant a small smile. "Are you heading to Gringotts as well?"

"Aye, Dumbledore's got me pickin' up the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen." Hagrid said with a sense of pride before looking at Harry. "Is this...?"

McGonagall wanted to palm her face at the casual way that the big man was blurting out secrets in the middle of the street. Why the Headmaster trusted him to do something as important as picking up the Philosopher's Stone she had no idea. Hagrid would certainly do the job, but he was liable to inform everyone he came across what he was doing without even realizing it.

"Yes Hagrid, it is." McGonagall said sternly, willing him to pick up on her desire to keep quiet.

Alas, the effort was wasted on the half-giant.

"I haven't seen yeh since you were a wee baby." Hagrid said emotionally. "When I picked yeh up from-"

"Hagrid!" The transfiguration professor hissed, seeing that merely hinting wasn't going to cut it if they wanted to avoid having him inadvertently inform the whole street of Harry's identity.

"Wha-oh!" Hagrid's eyes widened, finally realizing the need for some subtlety. "Err, right. Name's Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. Look forward to seein' you there come September first."

"Pleasure meeting you." Harry said politely, wondering how exactly this huge man had known him as a baby.

The three of them went into the bank together, with Hagrid quickly splitting off on his own to finish the errand he'd been sent to do.

"What's the You-Know-What?" Harry asked, not really expecting an answer.

"Never you mind." McGonagall said quickly.

Harry simply nodded. Obviously, they weren't going to tell an eleven year old if they were being so cryptic in the first place. It almost felt like the start of a side-quest, but that was ridiculous and probably a result of one too many RPGs being played. Real life didn't have quest cues for player characters.

Teacher and prospective student stepped up to one of the numerous goblin tellers.

"Greetings, Mr. Potter here needs to make a withdrawal from his trust vault." McGonagall said, already presenting a golden key.

"Excuse me, trust vault?" Harry interjected, latching on to the words. "Does that mean that there is also a main vault."

"Of course, but you will not have access to it until you are of age." The goblin teller replied, his tone implying that Harry was annoying him.

Harry was much too excited by the idea to care about that though, and merely pressed on with his line of questioning. "Would it be possible to discuss my account with whoever is managing it?"

"There really is no need for this, Mr. Potter." MyGonnagal tried to dissuade him. "Your trust vault will be more than sufficient for your school supplies, likely for all seven years of them."

He would not be put off though. This inheritance represented financial independence and therefore freedom from Robert and Katherine Shaw. Life with them was not terrible, but if given the choice to get away from them and live on his own, he would barely even bother saying goodbye. He had a closer relationship with the cleaning lady that came by once a week.

You would think that they would start to feel some affection for each other over the past few years, but that was just not happening. The Shaws were ambitious social climbers that were only married as a business arrangement that benefited them both. Expecting them to suddenly develop parental feelings was futile and kept their interactions decidedly cool. Cordial, but cool. Even the LASIK eye surgery they had insisted he get had been motivated more by their ambitions than any concern about his vision, the fact that they had handwaved any possible risk had demonstrated that quite clearly. What they had was a relationship of mutual exploitation and nothing more. He played the part of the adopted son with the tragic backstory that did the best he could. In exchange he lived in comfort and was left alone to do his own thing when they didn't need him for something.

So no, there was simply no way in Hell that he was missing out on an opportunity to find out as much as possible about whatever inheritance his real parents had left him.

"I'm the only Potter left, aren't I?" He challenged. "It's only right that I take an interest in the family finances."

McGonagall pursed her lips, obviously disapproving. Either because she thought it was unnecessary or because she thought that an eleven year old had no business trying to manage a wealthy family estate, Harry couldn't say.

There was a hint of approval in the goblin's reply though. "Wait here, I will inquire if the account manager for the Potters has time to meet with you."

"Thank you." Harry said sincerely, getting an inscrutably gruesome smile in return.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As luck would have it, the Potter account manager _did_ have time. He was an older goblin by the name of Gorefist, the implications of which had Harry wondering if banking was their day job and slaughtering peasants just a hobby. He really, _really_ wanted to ask, but figured it would be a bad idea to possibly offend the person in charge of his money.

"I must admit that I am surprised that you would want to speak to me already, Mr. Potter." Gorefist began. "After all, you cannot touch any of the Potter finances aside from those in your trust vault until you are of age, something that I am certain you were informed of by the teller."

Harry heard the implicit ' _Why are you wasting my time?_ '.

"I don't suppose there is any way to... _accelerate_...my coming of age?" He inquired.

Gorefist looked at him as if he was an idiot.

"Mr. Potter, we are a _bank_ , not a government office. You could of course ask to go through the goblin trials of adulthood, if you wished to do so. That we could offer you."

Something about Gorefist's words and expression made Harry doubt the wisdom of this.

"I get the feeling that these trials were not designed with humans in mind and would likely be hazardous to my health, so I'm afraid that I'll have to decline."

Gorefist barked an amused laugh. "Hah, you are surprisingly sensible for a wizard. Did you have any other clever ideas for prematurely getting your hands on your inheritance, or are you quite finished wasting both our time?"

"I would like an accounting of the Potter family assets." Harry insisted.

"Very well." Gorefist grumbled, taking some documents out of his desk. "The Potter family liquid assets amount to 343,709 galleons and an exta one thousand on your trust vault. The main vault also holds assorted heirlooms and artefacts acquired over the years."

"Is there an inventory of these items?" Harry interjected eagerly, his mind on all the cool enchanted gear that might be in there.

"No. Gringotts merely stores the items, we do not care what they are."

"I see." Harry said, disappointed.

Gorefist paid him no mind as he continued to speak. "Of the land holdings, Potter Manor is all that remains. It has lain empty since the deaths of your paternal grandparents."

Harry was happy to learn that he had a whole manor to himself. He knew that he wouldn't be able to move into it alone, but it was good to have a place. Something was bothering him about all this though. All that money couldn't exist in a vacuum, there had to be some sort of business involved.

"Does the Potter family own any kind of business venture?" He inquired.

"Not anymore." Gorefist said bluntly. "As the name implies, your family used to produce various pottery, both artistic and practical. They also owned a reasonably sized vineyard."

"What happened to to them? Did they go bankrupt?" Harry asked.

"Not as such." Gorefist grunted. "The Parkinson family made overtures to buy both after the death of Charlus Potter, to which the managers at the time agreed. With your father in hiding, he was unaware of this and could not contest it."

"I see." Harry said again, frowning. He would have to find out about these Parkinsons.

"I can do whatever I want with my trust vault, is that right?"

"It is."

"Is the gold in my trust vault a fixed amount or does it get periodically replenished?"

"The latter. It is filled up to one thousand galleons on every birthday until you become of age."

"Then I would like to move the contents of my trust vault to a new one, and to have this repeated every year."

Gorefist raised an eyebrow. While it was not exactly the height of cunning to figure out this type of scheme(pureblood heirs thought of it all the time), it did show that the boy had some definite plans for that money.

"There is a substantial fee attached to such services." He said with a cutthroat smile.

"What kind of fee?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"20%."

Harry gaped at the goblin for a moment before he regained the power of speech. "That's as good as robbery!"

"You could also wait until you are of age." Gorefist offered, smirking at the glower that the boy wizard was aiming at him. He would have been willing to go lower, but he was pretty sure that the young Potter heir was desperate enough for the money to agree even to that exorbitant fee and Gringott's didn't do charity. Especially not for wizards.

There was a long silence before Harry gave his answer.

"I hope you enjoy the gold you extorted from an eleven year old child." He said, his words clipped and angry.

"That is the best kind of gold." Gorefist replied, feeling quite pleased with himself. Fleecing the idiot wizards was a favorite pastime of the goblins. Not as good as killing them, but it was a decent enough substitute.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

McGonagall's mood was noticeably more sour when Harry came out of Gringott's. He got the feeling that she was a woman that was used to getting her way with children and didn't appreciate being kept waiting. Harry decided that he didn't like her too much. His upbringing had left him with a distaste for bossy, authoritative people that were used to getting their way.

Not to mention that his own mood was not exactly sunshine and daisies after the meeting with Gorefist.

The first stop after that was Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. Despite McGonagall's warning about the effects of people seeing his scar, Madam Malkin stayed professional. It gave him hope that it wasn't as bad as she'd claimed.

He came out of the robe shop feeling decidedly ridiculous, but he did blend in better now.

The trunk shop and apothecary were next, both of which passed without incident. It was in the book shop that he once again tried the patience of the transfiguration mistress.

"Ancient Runes and Arithmancy are electives that you can choose to take in third year, you will not need those books before then." She was saying.

"I'm buying them now." Harry insisted.

Ancient Runes sounded fascinating and he wanted to know what it was about. As for Arithmancy...he'd simply never thought that math could be applied to magic.

He wasn't a mathematical genius by any stretch, having slogged through the material his school and tutors assigned him with the grim determination of someone who had no choice. He had gotten good grades, but math was simply not something that had ever interested him.

Math as it applied to magic though? _That_ was interesting and something that he would cheerfully dive into.

McGonagall released an impatient sigh and muttered something indistinct about raven claws. He had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but her attitude baffled him. Weren't teachers supposed to be happy when students wanted to read ahead?

The book shop was also the place where he had his first encounter with his fame, though it was not because someone had recognized him.

There were books, a whole series of books, about his supposed adventures after the defeat of Voldemort. Obviously, these adventures were entirely made up. He couldn't possibly have been riding a dragon at the age of five for example.

Harry could only stare in disbelief at the assortment of books. At the age of eleven, his knowledge of the law was not exactly extensive, but he was pretty sure that using him as a main character in a book series without his permission was illegal.

The knowledge that the vast majority of his inheritance would remain out of reach for quite a few more years still fresh in his mind, Harry got an idea about squeezing some extra money out of this situation. He promptly added a book on wizarding law to his purchase, as well as those books about him. For all he knew, it wasn't illegal in the Wizarding World to pull a stunt like this, but he would definitely find out.

Though annoyed by the liberties taken by the author, if her stupidity gave him an easy path to independent wealth, he would thank her. In the privacy of his own thoughts. After he sued her out of house and home.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Though he had long wanted a pet, Harry did not find any animals in Magical Menagerie that appealed to him. Maybe some other day.

The last stop of the day was the wand shop, Ollivander's. He couldn't quite point his finger at it, but there was a kind of unidentifiable tingle in the air.

"Good afternoon." The soft greeting came from behind, causing Harry to give a start.

"Hello." Harry returned the greeting with akward caution. There was something about the man and his silvery eyes that was decidedly off-putting.

"Ah, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon Harry Potter." The man continued, heedless of the discomfort.

"Must you frighten every child I bring here for a wand, Garrick?" McGonagall asked with exasperation.

"Minerva, Minerva McGonagall. Fir with dragon heartstring, nine and a half exceptional wand for transfiguration." Ollivander rattled off.

"Yes Garrick, I know. You tell me that every time I come here."

Harry had to suppress a smile at the weary note in the transfiguration teacher's voice. The old wandmaker apparently enjoyed reciting that information often.

"Well then Mr. Potter, let us find your wand." Ollivander said, handing him a wand. "Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Give it a wave."

Harry took the wand, feeling his skin tingle where it came into contact with the wood. He gave it a wave as instructed, feeling a little foolish.

A weak stream of multi-colored sparks streamed from the end of the wand.

"A match on the first try?" McGonagall asked in surprise.

"No, I don't think so." Ollivander said as he snatched the wand away, his eyes suddenly calculating. "Try this one Mr. Potter. Maple and phoenix feather..."

Harry tried it, getting a similar result. Ollivander looked as if he was suspicious of something and Harry had the bad feeling that it was about his attempts to cast magic wandlessly. Fortunately, the old man didn't comment.

More wands came and went, producing varying results. Eventually they came to a holly wand with phoenix feather that had a much stronger reaction than any of the others so far. He felt something powerful connect to his magic and pull on it, the wand releasing a great stream of sparks with every movement until it settled down.

"Curious, very curious." Ollivander muttered.

"What is?" Harry asked.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr . Potter." The wandmaker said heavily. "Every single one, and I can tell you that the phoenix who donated the feather for that wand gave only one other. That other feather rests in the wand that gave you that scar on your head. It is very curious that you should be chosen by the brother wand to that of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Harry tried really hard not to think it, but it was useless. That sounded undeniably like an important part of the plot for a main questline. Good thing that the Dark Lord was dead, or he would probably end up in some kind of predestined mission to defeat him.

Or maybe he'd played too many RPGs.

"I think we must expect great things from you Mr. Potter." Ollivander was still saying. "After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things, terrible yes, but great."

Somewhat unnerved by the creepy old man, Harry was still getting that 'main questline' vibe.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry sighed in relief as he sank into the seats of the Hogwarts Express.

Getting away from the Shaws for ten months of the year for the next seven years sounded almost perfect. Almost, because he'd gathered that magicals were technologically retarded and Harry had grown rather fond of his computer and all that it provided. Living in a modern day replica of the seventeenth century was going to be a pain.

Parchment and quills indeed! He'd bought notebooks and ballpoint pens in bulk as soon the shopping trip with McGonagall was over. There was tradition and then there was being stupid.

Speaking of McGonagall, Harry wondered if she even realized that she'd been wearing a man's business suit from the fifties and a travel bag instead of a purse on her first visit. She had made quite the impression on the status obsessed Shaws by showing up dressed like some kind of hipster. A bad impression that was.

Probably not, if the robes were anything to go by. Harry would admit to having the occasional daydream of being a fantasy wizard like in one of his games or books, flinging about bolts of fire and lightning while they billowed around him, but the reality of wearing a robe made him feel kind of silly.

And speaking of silly...

Harry took out his wand. Holly with phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. Whatever that meant.

He was frankly a bit puzzled by the concept of wands. Certainly, his magic unquestionably came easier with the wand in hand, but if what he'd seen so far was anything to go by, then the wizards seemed to think that magic was as good as impossible without it.

That made no sense. The magic had to be in the witch or wizard, or else a wand would enable even non-magicals to cast spells. With this in mind, Harry concluded that wands were just magical foci, designed to make the use of magic easier. That would make sense. The crippling reliance on wands did _not_ make sense.

Harry had already determined that he would master his magic without the need of a wand. Much of this determination was based in his desire to not wave a silly looking stick about while casting spells. That was not cool at all.

Despite his accelerated emotional maturity due to the circumstances of his life, he was still eleven.

A more practical reason for his determination came when McGonagall told him not to cast any spells at home, as the Ministry of Magic forbade it and could track it.

They had clearly not managed to track any of the numerous instances of magic he'd performed wandlessly in the past few years, which meant that they could track wand use rather than magic itself.

True, his accomplishments had been small. Pushing and pulling things and similar stuff. He'd tried to throw a fireball once and gotten a little lick of flame. Then he'd realized that setting the house on fire would not be conducive to his continued magical studies, or his continued life for that matter. Fireballs and lightning had been grudgingly put on hold until a non-flammable environment could be found.

Anyway, the point was that McGonagall had told him that the Ministry could detect _any_ magic use, which they obviously couldn't.

Harry had read a lot of fantasy books and played a lot of games in his search for inspiration on figuring out the workings of his magic. These books and games often featured the theme of a corrupt government. It didn't take him long to develop a dislike of the Ministry of Magic with just that one piece of information. The numerous instances of restricted magic that the law book he'd bought mentioned further solidified his opinion.

First learning that he was a wizard, only to learn that the Ministry of Magic restricted so many interesting fields had planted in him a mulish determination to study exactly those. Besides, according to the Ministry definition, he had broken the Statute of Secrecy years ago in the orphanage and was constantly breaking the Decree about the Reasonable Restriction on Underage Sorcery. It wasn't like breaking any more of their silly laws was going to make a difference.

"Excuse me, do you mind? Everywhere else is full."

The question broke Harry out of his thoughts. The questioner was a gangly redheaded boy looking nervously into the cabin.

Harry did not actually want company, but he also wasn't willing to make an issue of it, so he simply nodded.

"You're Harry Potter!"

The awed exclamation instantly killed any desire to speak to the other boy. He'd skimmed over those Harry Potter fiction books and rapidly grew to hate them. Every single one of those books had him performing ridiculous feats at impossibly young ages, usually ending with him riding off into the sunset with the pretty pureblood princess in his arms. The books were oddly well written considering what a load of garbage the actual subject matter was, but that wasn't the point. The point was that McGonagall had been _understating_ his fame instead of exaggerating it like he'd originally thought.

"Yes, so what?" Harry grumbled, already regretting that he hadn't told the other boy to get lost instead of being polite.

"Wicked." The readhead continued, apparently oblivious to the hostility. "So that's where You-Know-Who's curse hit."

"Yes, that's where he hit me after murdering my parents." Harry grumbled even more irritably. He wasn't nearly as broken up about the deaths of his parents as he'd implied with that snarky statement – he'd never known them after all – but mentioning murdered parents was a surefire way of stopping conversation. He'd used it a few times before, though at the time he'd thought they had died in a car crash.

The redhead _finally_ got the hint and started looking guilty, mumbling out a barely audible 'sorry'.

"I'm Ron by the way, Ron Weasley." He tried.

"How nice for you." Harry refused to cooperate with the attempt to establish a more positive atmosphere. Instead, he moved a seat over to make things even more chilly as well as get some more leg room, took out his half-read Lord of the Rings book and started reading. If the annoying redhead got uncomfortable enough to leave, that would be great, but his silence would do in a pinch.

There was blessed silence for a long time, interrupted only by the occasional bored sigh from Ron. Harry made steady progress through the book in peace. He knew that he wouldn't see many descriptions of useful magic in this particular book, but he was determined to read it anyway. He'd skimmed over his textbooks at home already and a train ride was no place to be reading something that dry.

The trolley lady came and went, neither boy having bought anything from her due to having lunches packed, though Ron sounded like he wanted to buy something but couldn't get it for one reason or another. Harry simply never had sweets and wasn't interested in them now. Katherine Shaw had gotten a little obssessive about healthy eating a few years back and imposed a low fat, low sugar diet on both her husband and adopted son. At least she had done her research and put together an _actual_ healthy diet instead of some anorexic abomination.

"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost his." A girl's voice intruded on his reading.

"No toads here." Harry answered her without looking.

There was a small gasp and his jaw clenched in expectation of the annoying words.

"You're Harry Potter! I've read all about you in _Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ , and _Great Wizards and Witches of the 20th Century_! " She babbled.

"That's great, but weren't you looking for a toad?" Harry quickly interjected before she could waste the breath she'd just taken.

"Yes, of course." She said, actually sounding a bit offended. That was rich. "I'm Hermione Granger by the way. You boys should probably change into your robes, we'll be at Hogwarts soon."

Harry muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath about bossy females. He had enough of bossy people with the Shaws, he had no desire to get to know a pint sized harpy in addition to the full grown one that was his foster mother.

"Mental, that one." Ron commented wryly.

Harry didn't respond. He didn't want the ginger annoyance to think he might actually have a chance of making friends with him.

The annoyingly bossy girl did have a point though, they would be at Hogwarts relatively soon.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I heard that Harry Potter was on this train. Is that you then?"

Harry barely kept an unimpressive preteen glower off his face as the flaw in his plan to keep to himself and study magic was once again proven to be flawed. How was he supposed to shun human contact if everyone and their dog wanted to come talk to him?

"What of it?" He growled as deeply as possible. Which was to say not very, given that he was eleven.

The rather poncy looking blond boy with the slicked back hair and dull looking sidekicks was a bit taken aback by the instant hostility, but he rallied quickly.

"I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." He said, making it sound as if this was important information.

Ron snorted, apparently finding the blond funny.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" Draco asked waspishly, sneering at the redhead. "No need to ask yours. Red hair and a hand me down robe, you must be a Weasley."

The arrogant blond boy turned back to Harry, extending his hand. "You'll find that some families are better than others, Potter. I can help you with that."

"You can help me by going away!" Harry snapped, his patience for human contact exhausted by the string of irritating people. He couldn't tell people to bugger off at home because his continued comfortable lifestyle hinged on the tolerance of the Shaws, but by thunder he was not going to play nice and socialize in the Wizarding World. "I don't want anything to do with _either_ of you or your families."

"You'll regret this, Potter!" Draco snarled and stomped off, looking extremely petulant thanks to his age.

"That was wicked!" Ron said a few seconds later.

Harry started wondering if the redhead had a hearing defect or had perhaps suffered a head injury sometime in the past. Nobody normal could be this dense.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry somehow managed to make it all the way to the sorting without any more 'You're Harry Potter!' moments, thankfully.

He followed the instructions massive groundskeeper and got into a boat with two unknown girls and a boy. He didn't even bother to notice anything other than one girl's red hair before he faced away from them and determinedly stared at the dark waters of the lake.

The magnificent first sight of Hogwarts did manage to lift his sour mood a bit and the scare with the ghosts had been an interesting experience.

And now he had a ratty old hat on his head that was apparently sentient and would place him into one of the four houses.

 _Hmmm, interesting._ The voice of the hat murmured through his mind, startling him a bit. _You have courage, but it's a more cautious sort. Not particularly suited for Gryffindor._

Harry didn't really have an opinion on that, but if a magical talking hat said Gryffindor wasn't for him then that was as good a reasoning for not going there as any. Besides, given on what he'd observed of this sorting so far, he had the horrible suspicion that Weasley would be going to Gryffindor. Intelligence didn't seem to be a requirement for that house and bravery could easily be substituted for by stupidity.

 _You have ambition, as well as cunning. You could do well in Slytherin._

Harry's face twisted in distaste. Malfoy had gone to Slytherin and he had no desire to interact with the blond idiot.

He knew what the hat was talking about in terms of ambition, it was a long standing one. He wanted to be powerful. He'd wanted it when he was being shouted at and hit at the Dursleys. He'd wanted it when he'd been bullied at the orphanage. Learning that he had magic had provided hope and the adoption by the Shaws had provided opportunity. Hogwarts would provide the means.

Power was freedom and one day he would be free. He would be free of the need to pander to the wishes of Robert and Katherine Shaw. He would be free of the stupid restrictions on learning magic that the Ministry imposed. He would even be free of the need to use a wand.

And once he was free, he wanted to see the world and go on adventures where he could use his magic openly. A silly, childish ambition perhaps, but it was his. For a boy who had always needed to dance to someone else's tune and hide his abilities for fear of the consequences, the thought of being able to wander the world and do whatever he pleased had always been a pleasant escape for reality. It was one of the reasons that he liked RPGs so much.

In the meanwhile, there was no need to put up with entitled little shits like Malfoy when there were other options.

 _Not Slytherin then._ The hat concluded, feeling his displeasure at the idea. _You don't have any loyalty for anyone but yourself, but then you've never had anyone to be loyal to. Not afraid of hard work either. Hufflepuff would be good for you, you could make friends there._

Harry scowled at the idea. He wasn't interested in friends, at least not enough to seek them out. He'd tried to be friends with Dudley and the other children at the orphanage and had gotten only bruises for it, and the less said about the 'friends' the Shaws had told him to make the better. No, what he wanted now was for people to leave him alone. He could always change his mind later, but right now he would much rather see people keep their distance. Besides, it was looking as if the people of the Wizarding World were more interested in befriending his scar than him.

The hat seemed to sigh. _I see that holds no appeal for you, very well then. You've got a good mind and want to learn, so by process of elimination it better be..._ "RAVENCLAW!"

He took the hat off his head and walked over to the table of blue and bronze, trying to ignore the excessively loud cheering. Though he had to admit that the overdone hysterics about about how they didn't get Potter by a pair of redheaded twins at the Gryffindor table were amusing.

The others around him went to introduce themselves with far too much interest to pass as casual, but were fortunately not nearly as annoying as either Weasley or Malfoy had been.

The last few sortings passed without incident and Dumbledore stood up to speak.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

 _Weird._ Harry thought to himself, examining the food that had suddenly appeared.

A lot of it seemed to be several varieties of meat drowned in vast amounts of grease, typically British in other words. He was quite sure that he would get sick if he tried to eat any of it. He'd never eaten anything that heavy before.

From what he could recall, Vernon Dursley had taken great pleasure in loudly masticating this kind of food while only allowing him some bread, fruit and vegetables. The orphanage could never have afforded this and Katherine Shaw had gone on her health craze at about the time of his adoption.

Harry stuck to the vegetables, potatoes and what little meat there was that wasn't liable to make him puke. The ostentatious goblets were filled with some kind of orange liquid. A tentative sip sent a shudder of revulsion through his stomach.

What kind of crazy idiot thought that mixing _pumpkin juice_ and what felt like a truck load of sugar was a good idea? Pumpkins weren't a friggin fruit! He made a note to bring his own water to these things, not seeing any present on the table.

He spent the rest of the feast shutting down attempts to draw him into a conversation and wondering if magic somehow prevented people from getting fat. It was the only explanation he could think of for the lack of obesity if wizards ate like this all the time.

The feast eventually ended and Dumbledore stood up to speak.

"Ahem, just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

That sounded reasonable enough to Harry. Even regular forests aren't exactly something you should be wandering in willy-nilly. If the Forbidden Forest stayed true to form for the Wizarding World, it was probably filled with mutant spiders or something.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."

That was a rule that Harry already knew he would be breaking. He had fire and lightning evocation to attempt and Hogwarts was non-flammable as well as non-conductive.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."

Harry knew only the bare bones of the sport. He knew it was played on flying brooms and that the team composition made no sense. The seeker pretty much invalidated everyone else unless the game was very long and one sided.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

And that sounded like yet another start of a quest for a Dungeons & Dragons based game.

"But before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry collapsed on his very comfortable bed, face down, and exhaled into his pillow with deep exasperation. His ears still felt like they were going to bleed from hearing the 'school song'. Good music was clearly another thing that he would have to rely on the non-magical world for if that kind of audio torture was considered acceptable here.

He was honestly having mixed feelings about the magical world so far.

On the side of the pros was getting him away from the obsessive socializing of the Shaws, the magic, his own money and that sort of thing.

On the other hand, the Wizarding world was practically in the stone age as far as technology went and he was famous here, which was attracting ass kissers. He'd been on both sides of the ass kissing equation a lot thanks to the Shaws and could tell when someone wanted to talk to him for something other than actually getting to know him. Thus far, McGonagall had been the only one who knew his name that had actually talked _to_ him rather than _at_ him and he didn't like her much.

Well, the mental debate was moot either way apparently. He _had_ to be here for at least a while or they might decide to wipe his memories of magic, which was unacceptable.

At least Ravenclaws apparently got single rooms. Having to share a room with someone would have sucked.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The school year got going in much the same way as a non-magical one would, though with stranger subjects.

Herbology wasn't something that Harry could claim any real interest in, nor was Astronomy and its hilariously outdated telescopes. History of Magic was quicky designated as either a free period or a time to do something else. The ghostly teacher was literally quoting the book verbatim, making the class entirely redundant. Not to mention that he seemed obssesively focused on the goblin wars, to the exclusion of all else.

Charms seemed interesting, but they hadn't done anything more than theory so far.

Transfiguration was currently in progress and Harry was staring at the silver needle on his desk contemplatively. The others were struggling to get even a slight change in their matchstick, while he had managed to do it on the first try.

He had attempted some wandless transfigurations after returning from the shopping trip to Diagon Alley. It had been incredibly hard, but Harry had nothing better to do and he was excited to try out a form of magic he hadn't thought to try before. Wandlessly, he hadn't managed more than a change of color and a slight one at that. With a wand, it had been almost easy.

Was his previous wandless practice accelerating his ability with a wand?

"Well done Mr. Potter!" McGonagall praised, sounding very impressed. "I haven't seen anyone manage their first transfiguration attempt that quickly in a long time. Take ten points for Ravenclaw."

"Thank you professor." Harry replied. It technically wasn't his first transfiguration attempt, or even his hundredth, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

Some distance away, Hermione Granger stared in disbelief and in some amount of anger that the rude boy had gotten it better than her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Ah, yes," Snape said softly when he reached his name during roll call. "Harry Potter. Our new...celebrity."

Harry held back a sigh. Potions was apparently going to be one of _those_ subjects.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Snape continued in something close to a whisper. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

That sounded kind of rehearsed. He probably used it every year. He would probably use it on the Slytherin-Gryffindor class too, if he hadn't already. It was a pretty good speech though.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I have no idea, sir." Harry answered. He didn't even have the first clue about what those were, much less anything else to do with them.

"Tut, tut, clearly fame isn't everything. Let's try again Potter..."

The questions continued and Harry was unable to answer them. Admittedly, he probably should have looked through his potions books, but the lure of learning how to hurl spells of death and destruction from his hands had been quite a bit stronger than learning about stirring a collection of gross ingredients in a cauldron.

The perils of being eleven.

With a final disdainful sneer, Snape spat out the answers to the questions and demanded to know why they weren't writing them down.

"Potter, what are you doing?" Snape demanded less than a minute later.

"Writing down the answers, sir."

"Where is your quill and parchment? And five points from Ravenclaw for your cheek."

"I figured that using paper and a ballpoint pen would be much easier." Harry replied evenly, feeling fairly certain that the hook-nosed professor would not like that. Fortunately, he didn't care about points or the house cup.

"Another five points from Ravenclaw, Potter! Put away that muggle garbage and take out your proper supplies." Snape sneered severely.

"Does it really matter what I write my notes on?" Harry questioned. "I assure you that my writing will be far more legible if I don't have to struggle with an inkpot and quill."

Starting to develop an unattractively angry flush to his pale skin tone, Snape waved his wand and vanished Harry's pen and paper.

"Twenty points from Ravenclaw for your backtalk and a detention if you don't take out your parchment and quill immediately!"

Harry had neither of those, having seen no need to bring them when he had plenty of pens and paper. Unfortunately, he suspected that Snape would not care about that.

He was right.

He spent the rest of the potions class in a foul mood. Perhaps it was time to research some alternatives to attending this class? Snape was clearly determined to pick on him for some reason, so the educational benefits of learning under him were dubious at best.

And the week had been going so well too.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Thar she blows, the first chapter of something (relatively)new.**

 **In case anyone actually gives a crap, the address for the house of Harry's foster parents was chosen after a 2 minute Google search and may not even exist. For all I know, there's nothing on 74 Cromwell Road but an antique outhouse. In the incredibly unlikely event that someone actually lives there and happens to read this fic, then I apologize for using it. I also apologize for insinuating that it might be an antique outhouse.**

 **As always, you can expect updates to come at irregular intervals ranging from 4 days to a month, depending on how bored/inspired I'm feeling.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is the second one. Many thanks go to my beta Joe Lawyer, for looking the chapter over for me.**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _Hogwarts staff room, October 2nd._

It was the first of several routine meetings between the Hogwarts professors and several things had already been discussed. The troubles of the upper years, the poor quality of the school brooms, the Quidditch cup, the latest shenanigans of the Weasley twins and so forth.

Things were drawing to a close now and all the other professors had already left, leaving just Dumbledore and the four heads of house.

"And what of our first years?" The Headmaster opened, mostly wanting to hear about Harry Potter .

"Among my lions, young Mr. Weasley is proving to be troublesome." McGonagall said with a frown. "He is continually late in turning in his assignments and they are invariably of poor quality. If this keeps up, I am going to need to write home to his parents."

All of them winced, not wanting there to be another reason for Molly Weasley's strident voice to thunder from the inevitable Howler that the woman would send her youngest son upon hearing of his poor academic performance.

"On the other hand, Ms. Granger is proving to be an exceptional student." She went on.

Snape gave a small sneer at the mention of the girl. He found her eagerness to please incredibly annoying, particularly her habit of turning in essays that were nearly twice as long as required. Anyone could regurgitate facts from a book and he didn't appreciate the extra work she was giving him by doing it.

"My badgers have settled in without any issue." Sprout took over the narrative. "But Minerva, I simply must comment on Mr. Longbottom. That boy has an amazing green thumb for Herbology."

"He has an even more amazing explosive thumb for Potions." Snape added condescendingly. "Not a single class goes by without something exploding in his general vicinity."

"What of your snakes, Severus?" Dumbledore interjected before the Herbology professor could launch into a rant against the Potions Master.

"Nothing out of the ordinary." Snape said shortly. Unlike the others, he was not inclined to talk about his Slytherins.

"I see." Dumbledore said the same as he did every year when Severus gave the same curt answer. "What of the Ravenclaws, Filius?"

"The only one that truly stands out is Mr. Potter." Flitwick admitted. He knew perfectly well that he'd been kept for last exactly because he had the Boy-Who-Lived in his house. "Though he does not have Ms. Granger's precision for theory, his practical work is simply extraordinary, even better than that of his mother. So far he has always been the first to master a new spell."

"The same for Transfiguration." McGonagall added. "Not even his father had this kind of talent for it."

"His talents are apparently restricted to wand waving, as his ability with potions is mediocre at best." Snape sneered.

"Loathe as I am to agree with Severus, he is right." Sprout said, still a bit steamed from the earlier comment against her favorite first year. "He seems entirely disinterested in Herbology."

"There is _one_ other thing." Flitwick said uncomfortably, knowing that what he had to say next would not be well received.

"Yes, Filius?" Dumbledore prompted.

"Mr. Potter has asked me if it would be possible for him to stop attending DADA, History of Magic and Potions and study the subject matter on his own."

There was a moment of shock before Snape ended it.

"So the arrogant brat is already looking for special treatment?" He asked bitingly.

"Severus." Dumbledore said warningly before turning back to the Charms professor. "Did he say why?"

"He did." Flitwick confirmed. "He frankly admitted to me that Quirinus' stutter makes the class too slow for him."

McGonagall and Sprout sighed, fully understanding the situation. Talking to Quirrell was a chore when it took him forever to finish a sentence. Trying to listen to him lecture would be even worse.

Miraculously, Snape kept his opinion to himself.

"History of Magic...well, you know Binns." Flitwick continued, shrugging in an embarrassed manner. "As for Potions, he has come to me with a complaint about Severus vanishing his supplies and constantly singling him out during class."

"Perhaps I would not have vanished his supplies had he brought proper ones." Snape retorted.

"Yes, Mr. Potter told me of his preference for muggle stationery and I won't dispute your right to demand that all students use a quill and parchment in your class, but did it truly warrant you destroying his supplies? And I note that you didn't respond to the accusation of singling him out." Flitwick said back with narrowed eyes.

"Someone has to curb his ego." Snape sneered.

"What ego, Severus?" Flitwick demanded. "The boy spends all his time either in the library, in class or in his room. Occasionally he explores the school, but that's all. He hasn't made any friends yet and seems to have no intention of doing so."

Despite not showing it, Snape was a bit startled by that. Potter not having any friends? He hadn't really looked into it, but now that Flitwick mentioned it, he did recall that the boy didn't engage in much conversation while eating in the Great Hall.

"And yet he thinks that he can drop three classes and do them on his own." He shot back, mostly to cover up his surprise. He had a reputation to uphold.

"It is a moot point either way I'm afraid." Dumbledore interjected. "Though I admire young Harry's desire to learn, if we allowed him to skip certain classes, then everyone would want the same privilege and most of those would not have the same drive to learn that he does."

There was also the fact Dumbledore didn't want the boy to isolate himself any further.

Though Flitwick could appreciate the headmaster's point, he had a feeling that it would just cause Harry to ignore the lecturing of Quirrell and Binns and do his own thing. Snape would not be so easily ignored and the diminutive Charms professor could only hope that Severus would apply some restraint. Harry's fame would make the entire situation unpleasant for all involved if things continued to escalate.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After that staff meeting was over, Snape paid closer attention to Potter.

He had been surprised to see the boy go to Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor, seeing as both his parents had gone to that house. He'd also been expecting him to be running about the school with a gang of like-minded hooligans by now, breaking rules and causing trouble everywhere.

But Flitwick was indeed correct. The boy was quiet, introverted and studious. Nothing at all like his father and only slightly more like his mother. In fact, Snape was reminded rather jarringly of himself as a first year. A himself who didn't have Lily as a friend.

His face still looked too much like that of James Potter and Snape felt the old anger come back every time he saw it, but he decided to lower the verbal abuse to the level he aimed at everyone. He would reserve judgement for the moment.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Ha!" Harry yelled unnecessarily, thrusting out his hands and focusing all his will into making a mighty fireball blast forth from them.

The most pathetic fireball that the world had ever seen was his result.

Harry slumped, feeling kind of ridiculous to have made such a dramatic buildup, only to produce that little flicker. He wasn't going to be casting any firestorms soon, that was for sure.

He'd long ago figured out that the magic was linked to his emotions. The more powerful the emotion he was feeling, the more powerful the results of his accidental magic had always been. Unfortunately, summoning up emotions on demand was simply not that easy. He'd been practicing with his magic for years and had managed to get some results even when he wasn't feeling incredibly distressed, but it was slow going.

With his wand though...

He took out the holly wand and slashed it through the air, sending a band of fire scything through the air. It wasn't much and would singe some eyebrows at best, but he'd gathered that it was impressive for a firstie that had only been at Hogwarts for a month and a bit.

He'd also noted that he didn't really need all the ridiculous swishing and flicking that everyone else was using. Nor did he really need to say the words of the spells. It seemed obvious to him that the power was neither in the wand motions nor in the words, but in the intent of the caster. He had no idea why they were being taught in this kind of backwards manner.

Well, whatever. He wasn't going to argue about it and bring attention to himself, so he just pretended to swish and flick like everyone else. There was too much attention on him as it was, thanks to that stupid Boy-Who-Lived crap.

It got a bit lonely sometimes, but not so much that he would be willing to attempt getting closer to his yearmates.

The only one that he had any regular contact with was Su Li, and that was only because she happened to be his potions partner. As luck would have it, Su was herself a quiet girl focused on her studies and didn't really try to engage him in conversation.

Padma Patil had tried to talk to him once, looking horribly embarrassed about it. As it turned out, she'd been nagged into it by her Griffyndor twin sister Parvati, who wanted to know about the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry managed not to be too annoyed with Padma for that, though her sister was another matter entirely.

The rest of his yearmates had gotten used to his prickly personality by now and kept a polite distance.

Outside of Ravenclaw, the only people he truly registered among the students were Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson and Hermione Granger.

The puffed up blond idiot occasionally threw out a snide remark that he probably though was clever, but did little else than that when Harry failed to react to his taunts.

Pansy he'd only noticed because she apparently belonged to the family that had taken over the Potter family business. He'd considered talking to her about it, but the pug nosed girl was distinctly unpleasant to be around and a hanger on for Draco. He might have to do it one day, but he'd been putting it off so far. It wasn't as if he could actually do anything about it yet.

As for Hermione...well, that girl seemed to be taking his seemingly easy grasp of practical spellcraft as a personal challenge and sometimes even gave him a smug look when she answered the theoretical questions correctly, when they shared classes at any rate. She seemed to be under the misconception that they were rivals or something. For such a smart girl, she was a right idiot.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry was sitting in a quiet corner of the Hogwarts library, reading. Away from his foster parents and their army of hair stylists, his hair had reverted to its natural Potterness and become hopelessly messy. It was probably taking revenge for the years of neatness imposed on it.

Harry was actually considering growing it long, mostly because a lot of fantasy spellcasters seemed to have long hair and thought it would be cool, but also because he knew it would piss off Robert and Katherine. Probably not a good idea just yet, but he promised himself to look up information on hair growing spells or potions.

He wasn't reading a book on spells at the moment however, but rather a history book. Binns was indisputably an authority on the Goblin Wars – an exceptionally boring one – but he had thus far been useless for anything else.

He was doing this because he wanted to know about the history of wands. Where had they come from? Why were they so widespread? What had been used before them? _Had_ any kind of foci been used before them?

He had managed to learn that it was the Romans who had first discovered the secrets of wandlore and spread their use so far and wide, though it had still been centuries before every single magical had a wand. Originally, they had been reserved for the elite only. There were a great many flowery descriptions about the Roman war wizards and how their wands had allowed them to sweep away the primitive sorceries of the cultures conquered by Rome. There were no mentions of what those primitive sorceries actually _were_ though.

No matter which history text he looked up, he could find nothing about the magics used before the advent of wands. The best he got was some mentions of the Viking runecrafters, some of whose arts were still in use today and which he would be learning in the Ancient Runes class that became available in third year. That was a rather fascinating subject and something that he had already started reading up on.

Now, Harry was willing to believe that a lot of knowledge had been lost since those times – It _was_ about two millenia ago after all – but for _nothing_ to be known? That had the feel of deliberate historical editing.

Combined with his suspicion that wands were somehow used as a method of control by the Ministry of Magic and the many restrictive laws on magic use that he'd found, it felt like a cover-up. Whatever the Ministry was hiding, Harry wanted it.

He took a longing glance towards the roped off Restricted Section. All of the really good stuff was undoubtedly in there. He knew that Hogwarts predated the Ministry of Magic by over five hundred years and therefore had a considerable amount of autonomy. It was highly likely that there were numerous texts in the Restricted Section that the Ministry would prefer were destroyed or locked away somewhere. He especially wanted to see if there were any books on ritual magic in there. The Ministry categorized all ritual magic as Dark and banned it wholesale, which really stuck in his craw. He'd been looking forward to performing some self-improvement rituals, if there were any.

Unfortunately, Harry had not yet figured out a way to get in there without attracting all the wrong kinds of attention.

But he would. He was going to get in there and learn whatever super secret magic was being hidden. Then he would make himself a proper tower and call it something properly dramatic like...the High Tower of Sorcery or something. And he would cackle and throw lightning at the Ministry fools who would attack it in an attempt to steal his power!

Harry coughed and aimed a rueful grin at the history book in front of him, which just so happened to be opened on a page detailing the exploits of Yngvar the Insane, a Swedish Dark Lord from the 7th century, so called for his use of an unknown(or deliberately forgotten) spell that called a storm of lightning from the heavens. He was considered insane because lightning storms were a bit random and couldn't be aimed, which eventually spelled the end of Yngvar when it fried him instead of his enemies. What he'd actually been trying to achieve with this Thor impersonation, the book didn't say.

In fact, Harry had noticed a recurring theme of unclear motivations for quite a few past Dark Lords. Europe as a whole averaged at least one Dark Lord or Lady per century, often a bit more. The 14th had been particularly eventful, producing one every twenty-five years with clockwork precision. The two most recent ones, Voldemort and Grindelwald, had the most clearly defined motives and unquestioningly deserved to be called Dark Lords.

About the others, Harry was less sure. The books all seemed to agree about how evil and powerful they had been, but none of them said anything about their goals aside from going against the established authority. Before the Ministry of Magic, there had been a High Wizard's Council – of which the Wizengamot was a remnant – and before that, there hadn't been enough magicals to truly separate themselves from the non-magical kingdoms of the time. The only thing common to every single Dark Lord or Lady was the fact that they'd been giving the people in charge the middle finger.

It was giving Harry the distinct impression that the bureaucratic overlords simply did not like powerful wizards or witches. Which, in retrospect, was so blindingly obvious that he really should have guessed at it without need for three days of being buried in history books. Mediocre wizards in positions of authority would naturally be wary of the very powerful ones, either as rivals or simply as people who could ignore the politicking and do as they pleased.

 _Probably a good thing that I'm planning to take a little trip once I finish Hogwarts._ He thought to himself, recalling his intentions to study magic that the Ministry deemed illegal. That would get him branded a Dark Wizard at best, possibly even a Dark Lord if he ended up being powerful enough.

Dark magic? What a laugh that was. They'd just learned the levitation charm a day ago and Harry could think of at least three ways to kill someone with it off the top of his head. How was that any better than the painless Killing Curse? Dead was dead and he wasn't going to let some government lackey tell him otherwise.

Granted, Dumbledore was an example of an extremely powerful wizard and he seemed to have avoided the Dark Lord appelation, but Harry wasn't sure he counted since the man apparently held the top position in both the British Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards, essentially making him the man that decided whether someone was a Dark Lord or not. The fact that every mention of such powerful wizards that _weren't_ Dark Lords were invariably high up in the government only confirmed his theory.

"Harry?"

The boy in question yelped and nearly sent the books crashing to the floor, something that was sure to earn him the eternal enmity of the supremely cranky librarian.

He turned to look at his ambusher and saw the fifth year prefect, Penelope Clearwater. The girl had – for some reason – taken it upon herself to talk to him every once in a while.

"What?" He asked, a touch more rudely than he intended.

"The Halloween feast is about to start, I figured you'd lose track of time again and came to get you." Penelope said, her eyebrows drawn into a tiny frown at his tone. Harry was frequently irritated when someone intruded on his reading and had swiftly claimed the title of 'most anti-social Ravenclaw'. It was a prefect's job to look after the younger years and Penelope was determined to live up to that, but Harry Potter sometimes made it difficult to talk to him without getting annoyed.

"I don't celebrate Halloween." He said tersely. He wasn't a particularly celebratory person at the best of times, but Halloween was especially disliked ever since he'd learned how and when his parents had died. He didn't remember them and had come to terms with the fact that they were gone a long time ago, but they had died to protect him and he wouldn't celebrate their deaths. Not to mention that he'd come to loathe pumpkins since coming to Hogwarts and the Great Hall was sure to be hopelessly spammed with the hated plant right now.

"You must be hungry though." Penelope insisted softly, picking up on his increased dislike and being considerate enough to guess at the cause.

"I'm not." Harry insisted back.

Which was of course the exact moment that his stomach betrayed him with a loud rumble.

"Alright, so maybe I am hungry." He conceded. "But I'm not going to eat in the Great Hall. I've got some snacks in my room."

Penelope sighed at his stubborness. "Come with me, I can at least show you where to find the kitchens."

 _That_ caught his attention? Students could go eat in the kitchen? He could avoid the Great Hall altogether!

Unaware that she had just unintentionally facilitated further anti-social behavior from the boy that she was hoping would eventually open up a bit, Penelope led him to the lair of the Hogwarts house elves.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

While Harry did find the excitable house elves to be a bit much, he was also very interested in learning about a magical race. The Goblins were the only other one he'd met so far and they hadn't looked like the type to tolerate the questions of an eleven year old. He could respect that, since he wouldn't be too keen on indulging someone's curiousity either.

The house elves were more than happy to tell him anything he wanted though, and he even managed to talk to them about the kind of food and drink he preferred, so it was all good. Their extreme friendliness was a bit off putting to someone like him, but the excitable creatures apparently had a supernaturally good sense for when someone didn't want them around and toned it down as soon as Harry started feeling discomfited by the attention.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Because he was not a Griffyndor, Harry was not around when Ron Weasley tossed a careless and hurtful remark at Hermione Granger out of frustration. He didn't not know that she'd run away in tears.

Because he wasn't at the feast, he didn't hear Quirrell announce that there was a troll in the dungeons.

When Penelope burst into the kitchens with a crazy tale about a troll being loose in the castle, Harry merely looked at her oddly, muttered something about a random encounter and followed her to the Ravenclaw common room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Unlike Harry, Ron was acutely aware of the fact that his housemate was missing. For a critical minute, he waffled over the decision of whether he should tell a teacher or not, wanting to escape blame for the situation. Quirrell had said that the troll was in the dungeons hadn't he? Hermione wasn't down there, so she should be safe, right?

His sense of guilt and responsibility – unused though it was – eventually won out over his desire to hide from the situation and he went to McGonagall, confessing everything.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

McGonagall and Snape charged into the bathroom just in time to see the troll raising its bloodied club from the misshapen ruin of Hermione Granger's body.

A full grown mountain troll was a hideously strong creature with a highly magic resistant hide, but that didn't protect it from the angry spellwork of the enraged Transfiguration Mistress and the cooler but equally deadly Potions Master.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Great Hall was both full and silent, something that was highly unusual.

In front of the staff table stood Dumbledore, wearing dour black robes and a remorseful expression.

"It is my sad duty today to inform you of the death of a Hogwarts student. Last night, Hermione Granger was attacked and killed by the troll that professor Quirrell warned us of. She was an exceptionally bright witch, with a bright future ahead of her. There will be no classes this week as the Ministry's Aurors investigate and take statements, please allow them to do their jobs without interruption and cooperate with their requests. Thank you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Aurors came and went, taking statements and investigating the situation. Less than two weeks after Hermione's death, things went back to relatively normal.

Harry was baffled.

A student had died, so why was everyone acting as if it was no big deal? He knew that Hogwarts was largely autonomous, but this was ridiculous. Had a student died from something as easily preventable as a wild animal roaming in through the front doors in a muggle school, the Headmaster and staff would have been in serious hot water, private school or not.

A look at the Daily Prophet article provided some clarification.

Though the article had been scathing in tone towards Dumbledore in particular and the Hogwarts professors in general, two things stood out.

The first was the fact that the article itself was on the third page instead of on the first. You'd think that a student death at school would be big news.

The second thing was the title of the article.

 _Muggleborn student dies in tragic incident!_

Tragic incident? That was one way of calling it.

The fact that it mentioned Hermione's blood status at all brought another thing into sharp focus. The Wizarding World lagged behind its mundane counterpart in more than just technology. Long lives made for slow social changes and discrimination based on self-entitlement was much more prominent in magical society than it was in the muggle one.

Harry wasn't blind to the attitude that some purebloods had towards the muggleborn. There wasn't much of that in Ravenclaw, but it was hard to miss the way that certain purebloods refused to sit next to the muggleborns. It was hard not to hear Draco Malfoy's bigoted commentary.

He hadn't been in any way close to Hermione, so he couldn't honestly say that her death upset him, but it had gotten him to realize something. The girl had been so competitive with him because she'd probably been looking for someone to share her academic interests in. He'd thought her stupid then, thinking that she just wanted to be the best, but now he was the one that felt stupid. She'd probably been hoping to make a friend in the only way she knew how.

He promised himself that he wouldn't be so quick to judge in the future.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Christmas holidays rolled around and Harry found himself in a much emptier Hogwarts.

He could have gone back to the Shaws, but that would inevitably mean attending some kind of high society event with them. An empty castle would have been more fun than that even if it didn't have a huge library.

Besides, he had something that he wanted to talk to the Ancient Runes professor about and the holidays were the best possible time for it.

Actually finding professor Babbling's room in the castle had turned out to be surprisingly difficult and it wasn't until he'd thought to ask one of the house elves that he succeeded.

"Mr. Potter?" The professor confusedly asked once she'd opened the door to his knocking. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"I had some questions about runes that I was hoping I could ask you." Harry answered.

"You were studying Ancient Runes on your own?" She asked happily, always pleased to hear that a student was interested in her specialty.

"Yes." Harry nodded. "So, do you have time to talk?"

"Yes of course, please come in." Babbling invited and opened the door to let him in.

Harry looked around the room curiously, having never seen a teacher's quarters before. It was bigger than his own room in the Ravenclaw tower by quite a bit, which was only to be expected, but other than that it was fairly similar. It also had a small sitting area that his room didn't have. The most notable feature of the room was the large desk covered in parchment that he presumed contained various school work assignments on runes and such.

"Have a seat." Bathsheda said, gesturing to the couch and taking a seat next to him. "Now, what was it you wanted to know?"

"I looked over the theory, but I have some trouble understanding how symbols could have any kind of magical power." Harry admitted. "It doesn't make any sense to me that just inscribing a symbol and charging it with magic would confer a certain property to the item being inscribed."

"Ah, this is a question that I am asked frequently, though not usually by first years." The professor said wrily. "Tell me Mr. Potter, have you also wondered why wand motions are neccessary?"

"Err..." Harry stalled a bit, but figured that there was no point in playing dumb. "I'd just assumed that they were used as a method of tricking people into focusing properly on a spell, the same as incantations."

Bathsheda's eyebrows climbed into her hairline in surprise, realizing that the boy in front of her must already be capable of casting silently and motionlessly to have come to that conclusion.

"You are only partially correct, Mr. Potter. The incantations are indeed just a trick to focus the mind of beginners on the effects of a spell, but the wand motions serve an actual purpose. You see, when you wave your wand, it pulls on your magic in specific ways and shapes it into the desired spell effect. The field of Arthmancy concerns itself with which wand motions are best suited to a certain spell effect. It is possible to cast without motions, but it requires a much greater focus on the part of the caster." She explained.

"I see." Harry said pensively.

"I must admit to being impressed that you have the mental focus required to cast both motionlessly and silently at your age. These are things you would have usually learned in your sixth year, so it is very rare to find a child your age capable of it." The professor praised.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment at the praise. After struggling for years to manage anything at all with wandless magic, it was practically child's play to use a wand.

"So the runes...they don't have any actual meaning, but are just shaped in a way that directs the magic to a certain effect?" He asked, getting back to the point of his visit.

"Once again, you are only partially correct." Bathsheda told him. "Many of the runes in use today were created with the help of Arithmancy, which is a fairly modern field of study in comparison to things like Charms, Potions and Transfiguration. These runes are indeed shaped with a singular purpose in mind and it is perhaps a misnomer to call them 'ancient', as they are not that old in the grand scheme of things. There are however, older runes also in use that truly are ancient. These runes represent concepts and ideas and can have multiple meanings. They are typically more powerful than arithmantically developed runes but also less precise as their effects may vary based on the understanding and intent of the one who charges them with magic."

"Wouldn't it be possible to use a completely made up rune in that case, as long as you assigned it meaning?" Harry asked, confused.

"Theoretically yes, but you would be aware that the runes were made up and therefore subconsciously make them meaningless." Babbling explained with a small grin, enjoying the conversation. Mr. Potter had clearly done quite a bit of research on the subject and she was looking forward to having him in her class in a few years. "There is also an unproven theory in the academic circles that the older runes have been in use for so long that their meanings have become imprinted on the wild magic of the Earth, which is why they are more powerful."

"That's an interesting theory." Harry commented a bit absently. "I had just one more question."

"By all means."

"The books all seemed to agree that writing runes on yourself either wouldn't work or was downright dangerous, but they didn't explain _why_."

"Ah, that." Bathsheda said with a bit of a grumble. "I have long thought that every book on runes should contain more thorough warnings about such practices and I make sure to mention it during my classes."

"So it can be done?" Harry pressed.

"Yes Mr. Potter, it can, though it is most unwise." She admitted. "Merely using a quill to write runes on your skin and charging it with magic would achieve nothing, as the magic would be superficial and resisted by your body. Tattooing them into your skin would confer some effects, but likely not ones that you would wish. There would be a conflict between the intentions of the tattoo artist and yourself, leading to a wide variety of unpredictable complications. Furthermore, the runes would be attempting to make changes to your body and magic and would not have the necessary power to do so, once again causing nothing but complications. Even worse, wizards differ from muggles in that their magic eventually wears away the ink in a tattoo, so even if you _had_ managed to impart some kind of positive effect to yourself through a rune tattoo, it would eventually disperse and quite likely harm you in the process."

"I see." Harry said again, looking thoughtful. "Thank you, this was very informative. Could I come talk to you again if I had any more questions?"

"Of course." Bathsheda agreed, wanting to encourage his obvious interest in runes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

On Christmas morning, Harry found himself puzzled upon seeing a present with his name on it at the foot of his bed.

He knew it wasn't from the Shaws, as those two treated every holiday as an opportunity to suck up to someone at one social event or another. The only present he'd ever gotten from them was clothing that they expected him to wear to one of said social events. It had rather ruined the point of Christmas to him.

Upon opening it, he saw that it held a shimmering silvery cloak. He could practically feel the tingle of magic under his fingers as he touched it. A little experimentation led to the awed realization that it was an actual invisibility cloak. Who in the world could have possibly given him this?

A look at the attached card provided only some bafflement.

 _Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you._

There was no signature to the note written in loopy handwriting, but a little guesswork allowed him to figure out who it was.

He didn't really know anyone in the Wizarding world aside from the people in Hogwarts. It wasn't likely to be the students, as he wasn't exactly that close to any of them and he strongly doubted that they would have given him such an obviously valuable artefact.

Most of the teachers were also excluded, on grounds of him being familiar with their handwriting already. The only one that it _might_ have been was professor Babbling, but he'd only talked to her once so she wasn't likely to have given him such a thing.

Having excluded all of his aquaintances, he tentatively assumed that it was sent by the headmaster. He seemed like the type to hoard magical items. Reading over the note again, he came to another realization.

 _He gifted me with something that technically belongs to me in the first place? Or failing that, re-gifted me with something that my father gave him? And he admitted it as if it was no big deal? Wow, that's just...wow._

Harry had to be impressed by the sheer gall of the man, though he was too happy with the invisibility cloak to take much umbrage.

After all, the headmaster had just given him exactly what he needed to pay a clandestine visit to the Restricted Section. But first, there was a present to send out. He'd gotten the idea for it months ago, but hadn't been planning to actually go through with it, as it had the potential to backfire on him quite spectacularly. The invisibility cloak had put him in a gift-giving mood though.

"Could I talk to a house elf, please?" He said to the empty room, not sure if it would work.

"You's needing Blinky?" Apparently, it did work.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Severus Snape started in surprise as a Christmas present appeared on his desk. He had already received the usual bottle of firewhiskey from Minerva that would last him a year, as well as the bag of muggle candies from the headmaster that he had summarily disposed of as usual.

Nobody else ever gave him presents. Ever.

After casting every detection spell he knew on the small parcel, he was forced to conclude that it was not a trap and that someone had indeed done so.

Warily unwrapping it, he stared in slowly rising anger at the muggle notebook and pen, exactly like the ones he'd forbidden Potter from using in his classroom.

The cheeky brat was mocking him! Just like his useless, arrogant father! James bloody Potter would...would...would not have done this. No, James Potter would have played some juvenile prank in the halls or during dinner, and he would have done it a lot sooner too.

This was the kind of passive aggressive response that Lily would have given him after she came down from the initial hot tempered rage.

 _I thought you might appreaciate the convenience of being able to take notes for your potions in one place without the hassle of inkpots or ink splotches._

The equally passive aggressive note wasn't signed, further reinforcing Snape's sense of nostalgia as he stared at the neat handwriting.

The boy had obviously never heard of self-inking and ever-neat quills before, nor of the enchanted notebooks that never ran out of pages. Lily had been dubious about wizarding stationery at first too.

Without the face of a miniature James Potter making him angry and no people around for which to keep up appearances, Snape spent his Christmas morning in nostalgic reminiscence of the only friend he'd ever had.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _December 26th_

It was very late and the Hogwarts library was dark, silent and empty.

Empty, except for the invisible Harry Potter strolling through the Restricted Section, hungrily looking at the books. There were so many things he wanted to look up that it was hard to decide what to pick first.

Obscure spells had a strong draw to the mindset of an eleven year old, but Harry pulled his attention away from those, knowing that he didn't have the power to cast them yet and having enough caution not to try it anyway.

Eventually, he came across something that he had wanted to know ever since he'd learned about the Wizarding World.

 _The Theory of Rituals: The Magick of Sacrifice._

Harry swallowed nervously, wondering if this was a book detailing the proper way to sacrifice a virgin, which he had no intention of doing.

On the other hand, the book was using Ye Olde English in the title, which was always a good sign.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Albus Dumbledore was feeling a mite frustrated.

He knew that Voldemort would return and he knew that Harry Potter was prophesized to vanquish him.

The problem was that Harry Potter did not seem very heroically inclined. He had been curious about the parcel that Hagrid had retrieved from Gringott's, but not enough to look into it any further. He hadn't been inquisitive enough to take a peek behind the forbidden door in the third floor corridor. Albus wasn't even sure if he was aware of the break in at Gringott's. Not that Dumbledore really wanted him to try getting passed the defenses, but he had hoped that Harry would be curious. A powerful sense of curiousity was essential for a hero and Harry Potter simply didn't have it.

The boy was actually alarmingly disconnected from the Wizarding World. Aside from his obvious desire to learn magic and the tenuous link to his dead parents, Harry Potter had literally no ties to Wizarding Britain.

Not for the first time, Albus lamented the boy's placement in Ravenclaw. Even Slytherin might have been better, though it would have undoubtedly been difficult on him. At the very least, it would have forced him to interact with his peers, whereas Ravenclaw had a well known reputation for fostering introversion.

This wasn't usually something that Dumbledore would interfere with, but Harry Potter had a destiny ahead of him and that destiny would not be fulfilled by studying magic in seclusion.

He was well aware of the boy's recent excursions into the Restricted Section, but did not bother to stop him. What difference did it make anyway? The boy would have to die in order for Voldemort to be defeated once and for all, so his dabbling in illegal magics was of no concern. The knowledge might even come in handy at some point. The primer on ritual magic that he'd read the other night was hardly alarming anyway. Despite the ominous title and what the Ministry had to say about it, it was little more than a theoretical discourse on the nature of magic, with a focus on rituals. Dumbledore had removed the worst of the reading material in there during Tom Riddle's seventh year. He still regretted not doing it sooner.

He had no real fear of Harry joining up with Voldemort. The Dark Lord would never suffer a rival to his power and being destroyed by a year old baby would be an unforgivable insult to him. Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort would be enemies no matter what, but Harry might just decide to leave Britain instead of fighting if he had nothing tying him here.

If only he had been sorted into Gryffindor! Albus was sure that he would have become fast friends with Hermione Granger. They had been similar enough.

The girl's death had shaken the old headmaster far more than he let on. Minerva had often told him that keeping the Philosopher's Stone in Hogwarts was a terrible idea, but he had been sure that it was for the best. He had been sure that he would be able to handle the shade of Voldemort without there being any danger to the students. He wasn't sure any longer.

For all the pretty words that he had spun for the Aurors about the troll wandering in through a hitherto undiscovered secret passage, Dumbledore knew that it was his fault.

Regardless of his shaken confidence, he desperately needed to get a better handle on Harry Potter. Wizarding Britain and the Light would need a champion in the dark times that were approaching and Dumbledore knew that he was too old to fill that role himself. He had already been too old in the last war. A successor had to be moulded, even if he would die at the end of the conflict. Perhaps another miracle would allow Harry Potter to survive, as it had when he was a baby. An old man could hope, even if it was a fool's hope.

In the meanwhile, the Mirror of Erised would hopefully reveal if the boy had any desires that could be useful. A discreet compulsion charm would make sure that he found it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry had no idea how exactly he'd ended up in this abandoned classroom with the weird looking mirror. He'd just felt an insatiable desire to wander about Hogwarts and basically stumbled upon it.

That was a bit odd for him, as he had no desire to interact with Filch, the miserable bastard. The man apparently couldn't grasp the fact that there was a slightly different set of rules in play during the holidays and had tried to get him in trouble for imagined infractions several times already.

Honestly, what did he even _do_ at Hogwarts? His post as caretaker seemed to be completely made up just so that the bitter man would have an excuse to stay at the castle.

But for some reason, he felt the need to wander tonight and how here he was, staring at a tall mirror with a gold frame and clawed feet.

It was an interesting looking mirror, but the image it showed was the true puzzle. Instead of reflecting his proper image, it showed Harry the way that he hoped he would look as an adult. Tall and broad shouldered, long haired and roguishly handsome, with an aura of power draped over his shoulders like an invisible mantle. He was also wearing a rather badass looking set of robes that looked a great deal more practical than the nightgown-esque apparel that wizards actually tended to wear, more like a sort of half-robe or something.

Even more puzzling than the skewed reflection of himself, it also showed someone standing next to him. This person was utterly indistinct. He couldn't tell the color of the hair or eyes, couldn't put his finger on height or body shape. He _thought_ it might be a woman, but the more he looked, the less certain he was of that. It was as if his mind was simply unable to focus on the figure aside from determining that there _was_ a figure.

There was an inscription on the top, spelling out ' _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_ ', which told him nothing. He couldn't even begin to guess what language that was in.

There was something compelling about the image, but Harry could not for the life of him determine what it was. The vision of his adult self seemed obvious enough, a representation of his hopes perhaps, but what about the other figure?

Harry hated riddles. In fact, the bloody door knocker that asked you a riddle every time you wanted to enter Ravenclaw tower was the thing that he found the most irritating about his house. He'd had to wait for someone else to answer the damn thing quite a few times already, though he was getting the hang of answering correctly by sheer force of repetition.

Usually when confronted with a particularly irritating riddle that he couldn't solve, he would abandon it for a time and maybe come back later, but not this time. There was something about this image that made him want to understand it.

"Captivating, is it not?" An old voice asked from behind an indeterminate amount of time later, startling him quite badly.

"Headmaster?" Harry asked, bewildered. "What are you doing here?"

Dumbledore chuckled in amusement. "I could ask you the same thing."

Harry flushed in embarrassment, realizing how his blurted out question must have sounded. "Sorry, sir."

"It is quite alright, my boy." The old wizard said kindly. A little rudeness was the least he could tolerate from Harry in exchange for the compulsion he'd cast on him, even if the boy didn't know it.

"So, err, what does this mirror do?" Harry asked awkwardly.

"The clue is in the inscription, but you must remember that it is a mirror." Dumbledore hinted.

Harry frowned in confusion and looked at the inscription again. With the rather large hint he'd been given, it didn't take long to guess that he had to read it backwards.

"I show not your face, but your heart's desire?" He wondered.

"Indeed, the Mirror of Erised does not reflect ourselves, but the deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts." Dumbledore clarified. "Men have wasted away before it, yearning for what it shows them, even if they know it to be impossible. Perhaps especially if they know it to be impossible."

"What do you see, sir?" Harry ventured carefully, knowing that it was a personal question.

Dumbledore looked at the mirror, seeing his family once more unbroken and whole around him and feeling the familiar ache in his heart that always accompanied the image. His parents standing together happily, Ariana alive and well, Aberforth reconciled with him. His old friend and lover Gellert next to him, not a Dark Lord but a good man. It was an impossible dream, and all the more painful for it.

"I see myself getting a pair of thick wooly socks for Christmas." He finally answered. "People always get me books for Christmas, you see."

Harry didn't believe that for a moment. Socks were simply not something that you could have a desperate desire for unless you were stuck barefoot in the cold. He wasn't going to say anything though, as his question _had_ been quite personal.

"Orphans often see their parents returned to them, would I be correct in guessing that this is what it shows you?" Dumbledore asked, fibbing at little. The Mirror of Erised had not been exposed to orphans as far as he could remember, but it seemed a reasonable guess.

"No sir, it doesn't." Harry answered with a small frown.

Perhaps if the Shaws had not adopted him, that is what it would have showed him. He knew better now than to wish for his parents to be returned to him. He had no doubt that they had loved him and it would be good to see them, but things could not go back to what they could have been. They would have tried to set limits on him that he had already outgrown. They would do it out of love and concern, but it would have infuriated him all the same. He didn't fit into the role of 'eleven year old son' anymore.

"Truly?" Dumbledore queried with an eyebrow raised in surprise. "May I ask what you see?"

Unlike the old wizard, Harry did not consider the image to be anything massively private and he very much wanted to understand it.

Dumbledore listened attentively as Harry described what he saw, using a light touch of Legilimency to see the image for himself.

"I may know what it represents, but let me ask you one more question to make certain." He said when Harry was done talking, waiting for the boy to nod his permission. "Are you happy with your foster parents?"

"Not really, no." Harry answered reluctantly. "It isn't a bad place to live, but putting up with them is a bit of a chore sometimes."

Having used Legilimency just then to see if he was being told the truth, Dumbledore knew that Harry considered _any_ interaction with Robert and Katherine Shaw to be a chore. He held back a sigh. No wonder that the mirror did not show him his parents. Getting adopted only to have his hopes of a loving family crushed by reality had no doubt been a heavy blow to a young child.

"In that case, I believe that the mirror is showing you the image that you associate with freedom and independence, yourself as a powerful adult." He said, not letting his thoughts show.

"And the other figure?" Harry asked.

"I presume that it symbolizes your well hidden desire for companionship." Dumbledore answered. "Believe me when I tell you this, young Harry; all the power and riches in the world will not make you happy if you have no one to share them with. This is a truth that the powerful often do not realize until it is too late, if they do at all."

Headmaster and student both left the room after that, both of them thoughtful.

Dumbledore pondered how this new information could be used to inspire a sense of loyalty and responsibility towards Wizarding Britain in Harry Potter.

As for Harry, he reassesed his life goals. He remembered that virtually none of his books featured a solitary protagonist, something he had never considered before but it seemed obvious now. The antagonist was always alone, surrounded by minions at best, while the protagonist had friends. He didn't have any worries about suddenly developing the urge to rule the world, but he had to admit that he did feel a bit lonely. Perhaps making a friend wouldn't be such a bad idea?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry quickly discovered that making a friend was a great deal harder than simply deciding that he would try it. He had not the foggiest idea about how to make friends with someone after he'd spent months isolating himself. None of his yearmates approached him anymore and he couldn't quite bring himself to approach them either.

The status quo continued as the months slipped away and Harry eventually gave it up as a bad job, deciding to try again next year.

Instead, he continued to spend his time studying and practicing magic, sneaking into the Restricted Section as time allowed. He also made a few more visits to Bathsheda Babbling to talk about runes and to Septima Vector for Arithmancy. Both teachers were glad to discuss their subjects with him, unaware of the idea that slowly took shape in his mind.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Albus Dumbledore noticed the continued isolation of Harry Potter and sympathized with the boy, having plucked the reason for it out of his mind. Trying again next year did indeed seem to be a reasonable course of action.

He knew that Ginny Weasley would be coming to Hogwarts next year, so perhaps he could arrange something there? The Weasleys were a staunchly Light family and would no doubt quickly accept Harry into their midst. She would be a Gryffindor of course, but that wouldn't be too difficult a hurdle to get past.

He was still a bit disappointed by Harry's lack of interest in the mystery of the third floor corridor, but he wasn't willing to manipulate the boy into investigating it. Having already lost one student to the club of a troll, he had no desire to lose another to the fangs of a cerberus. Especially not when he was sure that Harry would play a crucial role in the coming war.

There was a bit of a minor emergency in April, when Hagrid nearly burned his hut down with a dragon of all things. Fortunately, Albus had become aware of it just in time and contacted Charlie Weasley, who was able to help sneak the little bundle of teeth and rage away from the school before the half-giant found himself serving time in Azkaban for illegally hatching a dragon.

Upon learning how exactly Hagrid had come by a dragon egg, Dumbledore knew that Voldemort was on the move. With that, the incidents of killed unicorns also suddenly made sense.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Quirrell and an increasingly impatient Voldemort found themselves stumped by the final hurdle on their quest to get the Philosopher's Stone. All the other defenses had been pathetic(except the cerberus, that one had actually been dangerous), but this final one was proving incredibly problematic.

And then Dumbledore showed up.

"Hello Tom."

"Shite."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Harry asked as he stepped into the headmaster's office.

"Indeed I did, my boy." Dumbledore replied jovially, gesturing to a chair. "Please have a seat."

Harry did so, looking around the office curiously. There were all sorts of odd devices scattered around, as well as a rather ostentatious gold perch that was currently empty.

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered, breaking Harry from his inspection of the office.

"No thank you." Harry declined politely. "Professor Flitwick said that you had something you needed to discuss with me?"

Dumbledore noticed with some dismay that Harry refused to make eye contact with him now. The boy had apparently found a book on the Mind Arts in the Restricted Section and was now practicing the most basic form of defense against mental probing. Namely, not letting it take place to begin with. Wise of him, but so very inconvenient for Dumbledore.

"Indeed I do Harry. It concerns your summer accomodations."

"What about them?" Harry asked, confused.

"You may not know this, but it was I who placed you with the Dursleys ten years ago." Dumbledore admitted.

"Why?" Harry asked with an edge to his voice, his eyes narrowing a fraction. He had no good memories of that place.

"Even though Voldemort was gone, many of his followers were still free and would have killed you if given the chance. The nature of your mother's death confered unto you a powerful protection, a protection I was able to extend to encompass the entirety of your aunt's house for as long you lived in the same home as her. I never expected that they would treat you so poorly and for that you have my most sincere apologies."

"Alright, but how is that important now?" Harry asked a bit tersely, wanting to move away from the subject of the Dursleys.

"Have you been at all curious as to why I declared the third floor corridor off limits this year?"

"I was." Harry admitted. "But I decided not to check if you were joking about the 'painful death' part after the incident with the troll."

Dumbledore's eyes dimmed as he remembered the girl who had died because of his blunder. Now that he knew that Quirrell had been possessed, he could also guess that the troll had been set loose deliberately. Contrary to popular belief, the school wards did not give him omniscient knowledge of all that went on in Hogwarts' walls.

"Behind that door was a series of traps that led to a great prize, a prize designed to lure Voldemort into the open." He explained.

"Isn't he supposed to be dead?" Harry interrupted.

"He is supposed to be, but I have long suspected otherwise. Just the other day, my suspicion was confirmed."

Harry sank deeper into his chair, recalling all the incidents that simply screamed 'plot relevant event' that he'd dismissed so far.

"Please don't tell me that I'm destined to fight him or something." He nearly begged. He was way too young to be fighting Dark Lords. Adventures were supposed to start with killing giant rats in someone's cellar! This was bullshit.

Dumbledore jerked violently in his chair and stared in pure shock, his composure failing him as the boy rather correctly guessed at the truth.

"Oh my God, I _am_ destined to fight him, aren't I?" Harry asked in disbelief, staring at the old wizard's almost guilty expression.

Under his desk, Dumbledore fingered his wand. He'd just inadvertantly let Harry know something that he hadn't been intending to reveal for quite a few more years, but a simple Obliviate could fix the screw up.

...On the other hand, this could be used to gauge how the boy would react to the prophecy. He could always obliviate him later.

"Well, you see Harry, there was a prophecy made before you were born..." He said reluctantly, still not sure if this was wise.

Harry groaned. No matter where they popped up, be it books or games, prophecies were _always_ more trouble than they were worth.

"What does it say?"

" _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._ " Dumbledore recited from memory, carefully watching Harry for a reaction.

Harry listened attentively and then sighed.

"At least this one is fairly straightforward and doesn't say anything about my father being the Lord of Murder."

Dumbledore blinked. This one? Lord of Murder?

"I am going to have to ask you to explain that, my boy." He said carefully, wondering if there was a second prophecy in play. That could change everything.

"It's from an old computer game I played last year, nothing to be worried about." Harry waved off.

Dumbledore wasn't entirely sure how games could be played on those muggle contraptions or how there could be prophecies in a game, but he was willing to take Harry's word for it since he felt that the boy was telling the truth. He felt no small amount of relief about it too, as a prophecy about a Lord of Murder sounded quite dire.

"So I'm assuming that this scar on my forehead is the mark that Voldemort supposedly gave me?" Harry asked, tracing a finger over the mark in question.

"It is." Dumbledore confirmed.

"What about this 'power he knows not'?" Harry pressed. "Any ideas on what that's supposed to be?"

"I believe it to be love. You see, Voldemort has never known love and does not understand it. It was your mother's love that allowed you to survive his killing curse ten years ago."

Harry looked at the old headmaster oddly for several long moments, wondering if he was serious. He certainly _looked_ serious, but the words he'd just uttered made no sense.

"You'll excuse me if I don't try to combat a ruthless Dark Lord that can apparently cheat death with love. Hell, with the vague way it's worded, the 'power he knows not' could be referring to my ability to lick my elbows." He said slowly. "Speaking of which, are you sure that this prophecy is genuine?"

Dumbledore decided not to comment on the first sentence. Even though he was sure that he was correct about the secret power being love, he also recognized the value of not putting all your eggs in one basket, which was a bit ironic since that was exactly what he ended up needing to do with Harry.

He was also quite impressed that Harry could apparently lick his elbows. He hadn't thought that was possible.

"It is genuine, but I'm afraid that it would not matter even if it was not. You see, Voldemort knows the first part of the prophecy as well and he believes it, which _makes_ it genuine."

"Right, self-fulfilling prophecy. The worst kind." Harry sighed.

"I must say that you are taking this remarkably well, my boy." Dumbledore commented. Had he been making too big of a deal about telling Harry the prophecy?

"Would freaking out make it not true?" Harry asked with rarely used sarcasm.

"No." Dumbledore admitted. _Though it would tell me that obliviation is the way to go._

"So...now what?" Harry asked after a short silence had passed.

"I doubt you will need to worry about Voldemort for quite some time." Dumbledore reassured. "He is less than a ghost at the moment and will find it difficult to return to physical form. It is possible that he may be prevented from doing so entirely, but he has always been crafty, so I would not place my hopes on that possibility."

"That's something at least." Harry grumbled, only mildly reassured that he wouldn't need to fight a full fledged Dark Lord in the immediate future. "Why is he still floating around anyway?"

"I am not sure." Dumbledore fibbed. He had no intention of telling Harry about the fact that he was a horcrux. "Now, I believe that we have wandered greatly off topic. We were discussing your summer accomodations."

"Yes, why were we doing that?"

"I will be blunt with you Harry, your home with the Shaws is not safe. The Dursley household was protected by powerful blood wards, which was why I placed you there to begin with. Anyone could attack you at your current residence, so I am offering to let you stay at Hogwarts over the summers." Dumbledore offered, fairly sure that the boy would accept

"That's very generous of you headmaster, but I'm afraid that I can't accept. I have some things I want to do over the summer that I simply can't do at Hogwarts." Harry declined politely. There were quite a few things that he wanted to do over the summer holidays for which he did not want any of the Hogwarts professors present. Things that now had a sense of urgency after learning about that bloody prophecy.

"I must urge you to reconsider, Harry." Dumbledore insisted. "If any wizards with ill intent were to find you there, you would be virtually defenseless."

"Does anyone in the Wizarding World aside from you and professor McGonagall even know where I live?" Harry asked with a frown.

"No..." Dumbledore admitted reluctantly.

"Then I will stay where I am for the moment. I will reconsider it if things start getting more dangerous."

"Are you certain?" Dumbledore tried one last time. "You could do magic in Hogwarts."

"I'm sure." Harry replied, knowing that he was going to be doing a _lot_ of magic over the summer, some of it probably illegal even outside of the underage restriction.

"Very well." Dumbledore sighed. He could have tried forcing the issue but that would likely cause Harry to resent him, which would be disastrous in the future. "Please take this then. Keep it close and and say 'lemon drop' if you find yourself in danger."

"How is a sock going to help me?" Harry asked, bewildered.

Dumbledore smiled and explained the concept of portkeys.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Alrighty, time for a few end-of-chapter notes.**

 **Yes, Harry is a bit unlikable at the moment. That will shift over time.**

 **I'm sure that some of you are upset that I killed Hermione. That's too bad, but she should have remembered to put on her plot armor.**

 **The quick progression is deliberate. Preteen protagonists are a pain in the ass to write.**

 **I know that the lack of character interaction is bad, but there will be more from here on out.**

 **In case any of you were worried, the scene with the Mirror of Erised is not a foreshadowing for possible gayness on Harry's part. I'm too much of a straight male to write a gay protagonist.**


	3. Chapter 3

**First a response to a few people that continue to hold out hope that Hermione will somehow continue play a part in this story...Nope, she's deader than a door nail and staying that way. No ghosts either. Sorry xD.**

 **Special thanks go once again to Joe Lawyer for beta-ing the chapter.**

 **Now then, a merry Christmas or its equivalent to those of you who celebrate it.**

 **If you're like me and don't celebrate it then...uh, carry on as normal?**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry spent no more than three days at 74 Cromwell Road before he went back to Diagon Alley to take care of some business. Robert and Katherine had not been too happy about his newly developed sense of independence and tried to protest, in response to which he may or may not have implied that they would have their memories wiped if he didn't do this.

Losing access to him ten months out of a year was putting quite a crimp in their plans to parade him around as their perfect son, which he knew was likely to become a problem soon. They might be terrified of the idea of some wizard messing about in their heads, but that wouldn't last forever. Hopefully the situation wouldn't implode before he was ready to be shot of them.

The reason for his visit to Diagon Alley was an appointment with the solicitor to whom he'd sent a letter before the school year had ended. He'd been a bit surprised at the speed with which the appointment had been arranged. Either the Wizarding World had less legal business, or his fame was being useful for a change and speeding things up.

That was still a while off however, as he'd come to Diagon Alley early with the express intent of looking around without a Hogwarts professor trying to direct his shopping.

All in all, he didn't find too much of interest that he hadn't seen on his first trip through, but there was one thing he found that made the entire trip worth it even if everything else turned out to be a bust.

"A Bag of Holding?" Harry asked admiringly, his eyes fixated greedily on the unassuming little bag. "How much?"

"Lad, this here's a Mokeskin Pouch." The shopkeeper said chidingly. "And I don't think a muggleborn could afford it, they're rare and expensive."

While Harry was glad to see that the simple disguise of normal clothes and a cap worked to disguise his identity just as well as the first time, he was more than a little annoyed by the condescending attitude. The shopkeeper wasn't _trying_ to be condescending and his tone was actually rather friendly, but the casual assumption that muggleborns wouldn't have enough money to buy the good stuff was still grating.

Granted, Harry was not exactly a muggleborn, but he was honestly wondering about the lack of muggleborn Dark Lords if this was the kind of shit they had to put up with all the time.

And the shopkeeper was also wrong. That thing was a Bag of Holding, end of discussion. What the hell was a moke anyway?

"How much is it?" Harry repeated himself.

The shopkeeper sighed in exasperation at the persistent boy. "Two hundred galleons."

"That is pretty expensive." Harry agreed.

"I told you-"

"I'll have to come back with the money later, could you reserve it for me?" He kept on talking, not letting the shopkeeper finish the 'I told you so'.

"You mean you can afford it?" The shopkeeper asked in surprise.

"Yes." Harry answered tersely.

Friggin' Diagon Alley shopkeepers should be replaced with NPC's. They'd be less annoying that way.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So Mr. Potter, what can we do for you today?" The solicitor said eagerly. Representing the Boy-Who-Lived would be a huge coup for him.

"I would like to take legal action against Enid Pennifold, the author of the Harry Potter book series, for using my name without permission." Harry answered simply.

"I see." The solicitor said thoughtfully. "If she has truly been using your name without permission then you certainly have legal grounds to do so, but I must warn you that removing the books themselves from circulation will likely prove impossible at this point."

"I thought as much." Harry admitted. "I'm actually more interested in profiting from it."

"You don't care what she wrote about you?" The solicitor asked with raised eyebrows.

"As you said yourself, removing the books from circulation will be impossible, so the damage is already done. A percentage of past and future profits made from these books will have to do. If at all possible I would like this settled quietly and without media interference."

"That we can certainly do." The solicitor agreed. "I will send you an owl once the preliminary negotiations are finished."

Harry thanked the man and shook his hand, surprised but pleased that things had been so simple.

Now it was time to go to Gringotts and withdraw the money for the Bag of Holding.

And for another talk with Gorefist after that. He had a feeling that he would not be the goblins favorite person after this talk, so it was better to withdraw the money first.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mr. Potter, to what do I owe the pleasure this year?" Gorefist asked, his tone making it clear that it was not a pleasure of any kind.

"I just came to warn you that I will be receiving a substantial deposit of money to my vault sometime in the near future." Harry said evenly.

"I am afraid there is a 200 galleon fee attached for every two thousand galleons deposited." Gorefist grinned nastily.

"Not this time there isn't." Harry disagreed calmly, having expected something of the sort. "In fact, you will also be lowering the fee on our previous arrangement down to 5%."

"Why would I do that?" The goblin asked, his grin becoming decidedly uglier.

"Because if you don't, I will simply stop using the services of your bank."

Gorefist's grin faltered. If the Potter heir pulled all his gold out of Gringotts, he would be left the manager of an empty vault. He would be a laughing stock. Even if there was a high likelihood of the Potter fortune getting stolen outside of Gringotts, that wouldn't help _him_.

"You cannot use any other bank!" He snarled. "Our treaty with the Ministry of Magic forbids it."

Ah yes, the Goblin-Wizard Treaty of 1726, which explicitly states that no ICW member nation would use any bank other than Gringotts. The goblins had been able to force that concession from wizardkind after a two decade long war.

Unfortunately for them, they had not looked at the small print, which said that in return for this they agreed to be bound by the laws of the ICW and the local Ministries of Magic forevermore, essentially turning the goblins into a vassal nation. The full treaty was a great deal more verbose of course, but that was the gist of it. This being a magical contract, it was still in effect.

Except in America. The American wizards had helped their muggle counterparts throw off the control of Britain during the American Revolution, but instead of fighting British wizards, they'd elected to slaughter the goblins.

North America was still technically part of the ICW, but their relations with Europe were colder than one of Snape's smiles.

The goblins had rebelled several times against wizards after that. In fact, every time that the Ministry breached the treaty in the slightest way, the situation had erupted into violence. That was why the goblins stuck so scrupulously to the letter of any agreements these days, it was easier to find loopholes that way.

Humans and goblins had been enemies since time immemorial, always warring against each other for one reason or another, but mostly for the simple fact that both seemed to be intolerant dicks with a superiority complex. When wizards had discovered the secrets of wandlore, the balance had begun tipping in favor of humanity. Goblins had been trying to figure out a way to make wands for themselves ever since, with no success. After the 1726 Treaty, they were banned from using them, alongside every other non-human.

The goblins had never forgiven that bit of treachery, even though they would have done the exact same thing if given half a chance.

Harry had a long time to consider how to prevent himself from getting swindled in the future after his first meeting with Gorefist, so he'd researched the history of the goblins and their conflict against wizards in particular and humans in general with a dedication that would have made Binns proud.

He'd discovered that greed was an integral part of the goblin psyche. Greed drove the short but vicious creatures more than any other impulse.

"I never said anything about using another bank." Harry replied evenly.

"Where will you keep your gold then, _wizard_?" Gorefist demanded, twisting the last word into an insult.

"That is no concern of yours, _goblin_." Harry emulated, though he suspected that he hadn't managed to put as much venom into it as his account manager.

Truthfully, he had nothing personal against the goblins, but he wasn't going to let himself get robbed just because they were nursing an old grudge against wizards.

Gorefist snarled again, slamming his hand angrily against his desk.

Harry had to fight hard not to jump. They might be midgets, but goblins were still pretty scary.

"You cannot withdraw from the main Potter vault until you are of age." Gorefist reminded him angrily.

"I know, I am intending to use that time to improve my ability to guard my gold." Harry replied, still keeping his voice calm and even.

"A hundred galleons for every two thousand and 15% for the transfers out of your trust vault." Gorefist growled out, seeing that the boy was dead serious.

"seventy five galleons for every six thousand and 5% for the transfers."

"One hundred galleons for every three thousand and 13% for the transfers."

"Seventy for every five thousand and 4% for the transfers."

"That is not how you negotiate, wizard!" Gorefist snapped in outrage. "Eighty for every four thousand and 10% for the transfers."

"You didn't seem bothered about charging unfairly exorbitant fees to me last year, I'm not going to be bothered about negotiation protocol now." Harry replied with a mocking smirk. "Fifty for every five thousand and 3% for the transfers."

Gorefist roared in outrage and gripped his desk hard enough that his claws gouged the wood.

"Fine! We are agreed, NOW GET OUT!"

Harry simply nodded and left the office, leaving behind a fuming goblin that spent the next twenty minutes inventively cursing his ancestry in Gobbledegook.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry spent those same twenty minutes walking off his adrenaline rush. He'd been preparing for that confrontation for months, but it had been a lot more intense than he'd expected.

So very satisfying though.

Now he just needed to figure out where he was going to put all that gold in the event that he actually needed to take it out of Gringotts. He somehow doubted that the Bag of Holding that he was even now going to buy would hold all of it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _A few days later._

Harry blinked at the sight of the house elf in his room, baffled as to why one of the excitable creatures would be here.

The house elf gave a bow so low that his long nose touched the floor.

"Hello?" Harry greeted, bemused.

"Harry Potter." The house elf exclaimed loudly enough to make Harry glad that his room was fairly far out of the way. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir. Such an honor it is."

Harry winced preemptively, knowing that his next words were likely to elicit a dramatic reaction. Unfortunately, the alternative was to treat the house elf like a lesser creature and he just couldn't do that. Judging by the stained pillowcase that Dobby was wearing, he got enough of that already.

"Would you like to sit down?"

" _S-sit down?!"_ Dobby wailed predictably. "Never...never ever..." There was a moment of incomprehensible blubbering before Dobby made sense again. "Never has Dobby been asked to sit down by a wizard! Like an _equal_."

"Not a Hogwarts elf then?" Harry asked, having enough experience with house elves to know that trying to comfort one was liable to just set off another round of hysteria. He felt bad for the little creatures, especially this one since he seemed to be bonded to a less than pleasant master, but attracting the attention of his foster parents wouldn't help anyone.

"No, sir." Dobby answered, much more calmly now. "But Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter! Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!"

"Why not?"

"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make terrible things happen at Hogwarts. Dobby tried to stop Harry Potter from getting mail from his friends at Hogwarts to make him not want to go back, but Harry Potter was not getting any mail from his friends!"

Harry's lips twitched in humor. He probably should be upset about a house elf trying to screen his mail, but the thought of Dobby attempting it, only to discover that he wasn't getting any letters was just too funny.

"I'm afraid I haven't made any friends the past year." Harry explained.

"No friends? The great Harry Potter has no friends?" Dobby asked, blinking in apparent bafflement.

"Better no friends than bad friends." Harry shrugged, not really wanting to explain his entire situation. The two people who had first attempted to befriend him, Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy, would definitely fit into the 'bad friend' category at least.

"Harry Potter is wise." Dobby stated, nodding compulsively as if he'd just heard something profound. "So Harry Potter will understand that he must not return to Hogwarts."

"Can you tell me what this terrible plot is?" Harry asked.

"Dobby cannot, sir."

Of course, that would be a much more direct betrayal than merely coming to warn him.

"It has something to do with Voldemort, doesn't it?" Harry sighed in resignation. This was practically a textbook example of foreshadowing and given the prophecy that Dumbledore had told him at the end of first year...

"Say not the name!" Dobby screeched, clapping his hands over his floppy ears.

"Right, so does it have anything to do with him?" Harry asked again, this time with an eyeroll.

"No sir, not with He-Who-Must-Not-be-named." The house elf answered.

"It doesn't?" Harry said in surprise. "Who does it have to do with then?"

For a moment, Dobby looked as if he was going to answer, but then he started smashing his head against the nearest hard surface.

"Alright, alright! I get it! You can't answer." Harry cried quickly, now wanting the excitable but friendly house elf hurting himself.

"Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter sir!" Dobby wailed. "Dobby cannot betray the masters."

"It's alright, I understand." Harry tried to reassure. "I'm guessing you don't like serving your current masters?"

"Dobby does not." The house elf confirmed, wringing his ears wretchedly. "Dobby wants to be free."

Harry grimaced. For a house elf to say that they wanted to be free, whoever Dobby was bonded to had to be _really_ bad.

"I might have an idea about how to get you free, would you like to hear it?" He asked.

Dobby nodded frantically.

Harry leaned close to the house elf in a conspiratorial fashion. "Alright, here's what you do..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That same day, Dobby returned to Malfoy Manor and did not immediately begin punishing himself for going to warn Harry Potter of the impending danger at Hogwarts. Soon, there would be no more need to punish himself, so Dobby felt that he could get away with a little rebellion.

The next morning, before any of the Malfoys woke up, Dobby did not start making breakfast as he usually did. Instead he went to the closest forest and looked for the slimiest, most disgusting creature he could find. This turned out to be a regular slug, but it was more than suitable for the purpose.

He put this slug into one of Lucius' socks and prepared it for the man as he always did in the mornings. This was the plan that the great Harry Potter had suggested and Dobby was sure that it would work. It was a very clever plan.

Unfortunately, things do not always go according to plan.

When Lucius slid his foot into the sock, he quickly discovered the slimy surprise and pulled it off, staring at his soiled foot in disgust.

"Elf! What is the meaning of this? What have you done" The blond man demanded harshly.

Dobby had been standing nearby, waiting with bated breath for the moment when his master would throw the sock away in disgust and he could swoop in to grab it out of the air, thereby freeing himself.

But Lucious had _not_ thrown the sock away in disgust, holding it away from him instead.

Compelled by the bond, Dobby confessed to attempting to engineer his own freedom, though the question was vague enough that he was able to leave out any mention of Harry Potter or his unauthorized trip.

Lucius, infuriated at the mere notion that his house elf thought it could trick him like this and worse, nearly succeeding, pulled out his wand and angrily fired off a killing curse. He momentarily regretted killing his servant, but quickly rationalized that it was better than having a house elf around that thought it was clever.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry hadn't been too concerned when Dobby hadn't come back the next day. When the second day passed however, he did get concerned. By the time that the third day rolled around, he had accepted the fact that his plan had failed and hoped that the consequences for Dobby hadn't been too dire. He feared that they had been, given what little he knew of the house elf's masters.

It was also on this day that he received his solicitor's owl.

 _Mr Potter,_

 _I have spoken to Ms. Pennifold and explained to her your displeasure at how she used your name to sell her books._

 _She was quite mortified to hear of this. Apparently, she wrote the first one in a fit of inspiration after the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and never intended to publish it, but was persuaded into doing so by a friend and things simply snowballed from there._

 _She agreed to pay you a sum of thirty thousand galleons as compensation, 40% of any future sales, as well as agreeing to add a disclaimer to the effect of the books being entirely fictional. Overall it is considerably more generous than what I had expected to get out of this for so little effort. Ms. Pennifold has also asked if you would be willing to participate in a book signing to endorse future sales some time in the future._

Harry put down the letter and rubbed his face tiredly. Great. Now he was not just worried about what had happened to Dobby, but he was also feeling like a jerk for siccing a lawyer on a woman that had no malicious intent with her books, even if they were bloody ridiculous. As for the book signing idea...yeah, he had absolutely no desire to do that right now, maybe not ever.

This day was already shaping up to be simply spectacular and it wasn't even noon. Now all he needed was...

"Harry? Remember that we're having important visitors over in the evening. Come down so that we can go over the itinerary again." Katherine Shaw's voice came from the intercom that they had felt the need to install in his room for some reason.

Harry groaned miserably. He'd forgotten all about that stupid dinner party. The day officially sucked.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry approached the doors of Potter Manor with some trepidation. All of these old manor houses were said to be heavily warded and he was taking a bit of a gamble in assuming that the wards would recognize him as a Potter himself. They _should_ , but he wasn't 100% sure that they _would_.

It was a pretty impressive place and he was sure that the Shaws would want to move in if they knew about it. At the very least, they would probably want to take all the antique furniture that was undoubtedly in there.

Deciding to just get on with it, he grabbed the doorknob and tried to turn it. It didn't budge, but it did prick his palm to taste his blood. With a brief shimmer, the doors swung open.

Smiling with mixed relief and eagerness, Harry wandered into the manor, turning his head in every direction in an attempt to take in the foyer. It was a bit on the ostentatious side for his taste, but it was _his_.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" He called. He knew there wouldn't be any people, but there might be portraits or house elves.

A tiny blur barreling into his legs nearly caused him to lash out with an instinctive burst of wandless magic, restrained at the last moment.

"Master Potter sir!" The house elf wailed in an unpleasantly high female pitch. "You's finally came! Teeny was waiting for so long!"

Harry smiled awkwardly and patted her head as the little house elf continued to blubber against his leg. What do you say to calm down a hysterical house elf?"

"Umm, sorry?" He ventured.

Teeny's horrified gasp let him know that it may not have been the right thing to say.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fortunately, calming Teeny down didn't take too much effort once the initial hysteria was out of the way. The small house elf had all but demanded to be bonded to him immediately after that. Harry was still a bit iffy on the subject of having a thinking creature bound to him in lifelong servitude, but Teeny's wobbling lower lip and watering eyes every time he stalled eventually wore down his resistance and he gave in.

She'd gone into a cooking frenzy after that, determined to feed him the best meal he'd ever had and Harry didn't have the heart to tell her that he'd already eaten.

While Teeny cooked, Harry decided to explore the manor, wondering if he might find portraits of any relatives. He knew that they were just imprints of people, but it would still be nice to talk to them.

As it turned out, he found them.

"Hello?" He called to the sleeping portraits of a man and woman in what he guessed were their late middle ages, though it was hard to be sure with wizards and witches.

They woke up, looking momentarily confused but quickly focused on him.

"Hello, are you our grandson?" The dignified looking woman asked hopefully.

"I'm Harry." He replied simply.

"James and Lily's boy." The older man with typically messy Potter hair and glasses said, delight in his tone. "You _are_ our grandson. We're Charlus and Dorea Potter, your father's parents."

"Can you tell me about them?" Harry asked. He hadn't been willing to ask this of the Hogwarts professors, but faced with the portraits of his grandparents, he could finally do so.

"Oh, I suppose that means that they weren't able to hide from Voldemort then." Dorea said sorrowfully. "I knew that they shouldn't have trusted Dumbledore."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked warily. He had thought that the old headmaster was a bit strange but trustworthy enough.

"My wife has never had a very high opinion of Dumbledore." Charlus answered.

"Don't sugarcoat it, Charlus." Dorea scoffed. "I wouldn't trust that old manipulator as far as I could throw him."

"Yes well, though my own opinion of the man isn't as bad as my wife's, I would urge you to keep in mind that Dumbledore didn't get to where he is now without being more than a bit ruthless." Charlus added.

Harry nodded slowly. The headmaster had a disarming personality and projected the image of a kindly, wise old wizard well, but Charlus had a point. Dumbledore couldn't have become the most powerful wizard and most prominent politician in all of Europe just by being nice. He would have to keep that in mind in the future.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A few hours later, the meal Teeny had prepared was eaten and the conversation with the portraits of his grandparents had tapered off. Harry hadn't seen much of the manor by that point and decided to explore it further.

It was nothing spectacular for the most part, just a lot of bedrooms, bathrooms and miscellaneous other things that held no interest for him, but a few things did stand out.

The first was the library. It wasn't as massive as the one in Hogwarts and he spotted a lot of the same texts, but there were a few that looked to be unique to the Potter family.

The second was deep in the basement. It seemed like nothing more than a bare stone room, if not for a few things. The location and thick walls would be enough to mark it as a room used for rituals, but what truly clinched it was the box containing an ornate knife in front of it.

It was a pretty thing with a slightly curved silver blade and a gold enameled hilt. A good sized ruby was set at the end of the hilt, glinting in the low light.

Harry was exceptionally pleased to have found such a knife. Rituals could technically be done with any kind of blade, but specialized ritual blades were known to have superior results.

He was eager to get started on this. He _had_ been secretly planning out a ritual ever since he'd started learning about them after all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ever since that first conversation with professor Babbling, Harry had been thinking of ways to apply runes to himself as a means of bolstering his physical and magical power.

After getting told that tattoos wouldn't work, he had begun considering more...extreme...measures.

The discussions with professor Vector had helped him calculate what would work and what wouldn't.

Wizard raised children came into Hogwarts with a lot of advantages, but if there was one thing that a muggle upbringing had going for it, it was the years spent in primary school.

Arithmancy wasn't the same as mathemathics, but it was close enough that there was quite a bit of overlap.

A lot of the things he'd wanted to figure out were beyond Harry, even if he'd been working on Arithmancy in his free time, but he had found a workaround for that too.

The internet was full of mathemathicians that would solve any interesting looking problem on a lark. All Harry had needed to do was post his problem on a forum and wait for a reply. As long as he changed the names of some of the variables and took out the bits that would make no sense without magic being involved, he was almost guaranteed to receive an answer that would work for him. It took some effort to dance around the issue of magic, but it could be done.

This kind of cheating workaround had told him that merely using any old knife to carve runes into his flesh wouldn't have enough power behind it. He would either need a specially made ritual knife that was designed to channel magic, or he would need to literally brand the runes into his skin with a red hot branding iron. That was the only sacrifice he could think of that was great enough to make the runes work in the way he wanted them to without a proper knife.

Harry was naturally relieved to have found the ritual knife. He felt enough trepidation at the thought of carving the runes into his skin with a knife that he was not at all certain that he would be able to go through with a branding.

He'd already told Teeny that she was not to come into the ritual chamber for any reason – no matter what she felt or heard – until he called her. Rituals were delicate things and having any extra thinking minds present was always a bad idea.

Now all that was left to do was to actually step into the circle and start the ritual, which was proving to be much harder than he expected.

It was all well and good to plan this thing out, but now that he'd come to the point where he would have seven runes carved into his back by a magically floating knife, he was discovering that much of his courage had deserted him.

He'd expected that this might be the case, which was why the ritual was set up in such a way that it could not be stopped once it was started. Ironically, this made it even harder to make the first step.

It had to be this way though. He couldn't afford to chicken out midway. The rune set was made to work together and carving only part of it would likely be disastrous for him.

He just had to step into the circle and get started.

Any day now.

Yep.

Harry let out a gusty sigh, closed his eyes and stepped into it with a sense of determined resignation. If he hadn't heard of that bloody prophecy, he might have put this off until he was older. He might even have decided that the price wasn't worth the payout.

But now he knew that he had a not-quite-dead Dark Lord after his hide and he strongly doubted that the tosser would be considerate enough to wait until Harry was ready for him. He wanted to live and he was sure that he could endure a little pain now if it helped him survive later. Standing naked in a cold stone room and staring aprehensively at the inert ritual knife wouldn't do him any good.

Besides, this particular ritual would have more to work with if it was done before puberty kicked in properly.

With another sigh to calm down his nerves, he knelt into the center of the ritual circle, naked as the day he was born.

" _Raido_." He said, focusing on the rune even as he felt the petrification effect worked into the ritual kick in.

Ritual. Journey. Freedom from imprisonment. Self-mastery.

The rune would mark the start of his ritual, as well as symbolize that the runes would continue to influence him as he grew, making him more than he would have been without them. It symbolized that he was willfully changing his body in ways that people normally can't and release him from the constraints of normal growth.

The knife started carving the blocky 'R' shaped rune into the base of his neck and the only thing that stopped Harry from screaming was the petrification. He did his absolute best to stay focused on the meaning of the rune and hoped it would work as intended.

When it was over, Harry took a few minutes to get his breath back and blink the tears out of his eyes. It had been worse than he'd expected and he was doubly glad that he had a proper ritual knife. If getting cut was this bad, then a branding would have been unbearable.

He could feel it working though. He could feel his magic flowing into the rune, exploring the new channel and almost eagerly waiting for the next one, as if it knew that it wasn't over yet.

When he felt ready, he spoke the next one.

" _Gebo_."

Trade. Sacrifice. Balance. Exchanged powers. Magical exchange.

A rune to symbolize the sacrifice he was making in exchange for the benefits he wanted. Blood, pain and the permanent scarring of his flesh in exchange for the power of the runes. It looked like an 'X' and it was carved under _Raido_ , along his spine.

" _Inguz_."

Internal growth. Personal development. Gestation process. Male sexuality.

This rune was basically focused on speeding his maturation. He wanted to grow faster, both because adulthood meant freedom and because he did not want to be a child when Voldemort eventually clawed his way back to life. It was represented by a tilted square.

" _Uruz_."

Life force, Physical health. Healing. Vital formative force. Stamina. Vitality. Virility. Vigor. Endurance. Raw primal power.

A rune meant to increase the potency of his body, granting greater physical strength and endurance as well as speeding up natural healing. It was a simple looking rune, merely two lines connected by a third at the top, with the second one being shorter to make the whole rune a bit slanted.

" _Thurisaz_."

Giant. Active defensive force. Regenerative catalyst. Reactive and directed force.

Another rune to increase his endurance and durability, channel magic to his muscles and bones, make him more resistant to injury, and to further speed the healing properties of Uruz. It looked like an angular 'P', but with the protruding part written in the middle instead of on top.

" _Hagalaz_."

Disruption. Change according to ideals. Power beyond human ability to harness. Perfect pattern.

A rune that signified that what he wanted was a body stronger than should be naturally his. A rune that was intended to direct the other runes into the purpose of improving him. It looked very much like an 'H', except for the middle line having a downward slant.

" _Wunjo_."

Harmony of like forces. Bonding. Shared aims. Optimism. Prosperity.

The final rune in the set, made to bind them all together into a unified beneficial purpose instead of having each of them working independently. It looked like an angular 'P'.

The ritual complete, Harry collapsed forward and gulped down deep breaths of air as he waited for the burning pain across the length of his spine to subside. He could feel his magic moving towards the newly carved runes, leaving him even more drained than the pain had already done.

And then he suddenly became aware of just how incredibly _hungry_ he was.

"Teeny." He croaked.

The house elf appeared and immediately cried in dismay at seeing his bloodied back.

"Teeny, I need food. A lot of it." Harry went on, ignoring her panic. He could barely think about anything save for the emptiness of his stomach right now.

Glad to have a direction, Teeny apparated him into the kitchen, set a bowl of fruit in front of him and started cooking up a storm.

Harry ate four apples, six bananas, two oranges and still felt hungry. The runes on his back continued to siphon away his strength without pause, slowly transforming from open wounds into scars.

Teeny noticed that he'd run out of food and put a bowl of salad in front of him. It was meant to come _after_ the soup, but she couldn't bear to make him wait when he was obviously starving.

It was good to be needed again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry's appetite eventually calmed down and he asked Teeny to apparate him back to his foster parents. He'd been gone for the whole day this time and he didn't want them to be anymore pissy than strictly necessary.

"Harry, is that you?" Katherine's voice came from a bathroom while he was on the way to his room.

"Yes, it's me." He called back without stopping, wanting to do nothing more than fall asleep.

"Robert and I got an invitation to the opera while you were gone, so you'll have the house to yourself."

Harry thanked whichever deity had decided to be merciful today. The opera was one of those things that they left him behind for, probably thinking that it would make them look bad to drag a kid along for something like that.

"Great, have fun." He said back, managing to actually sound sincere. Whoever had invited them must be relatively important if she wasn't even bothering to ask where he'd been all day.

Katherine chose that moment to step out of the bathroom.

"How do I look?" She asked, making little turns so that he could see more of her.

She did this sometimes, fishing for compliments from a child like the self-obsessed bint that she was. Harry had always given her the expected empty compliment that he didn't really mean.

She did genuinely look good though. At thirty two years old, she was still pretty young and her healthy diet and frequent exercise kept her looking beautiful. Combined with the hours she'd no doubt spent in front of a mirror and the tight black dress she was wearing, she was nothing short of stunning.

As Harry noticed this, he felt the blood rush between his legs and a strange squirming sensation started up in his lower abdomen. His body heated up and he felt his eyes getting pulled to her legs and breasts. The runes on his back prickled. His hands twitched with the sudden desire to feel if her arse was as tight as it looked.

A wave of horror made his face go white as he realized what he was thinking.

"You look great." He managed to force out. "Excuse me, I have something I need to do."

He fled to his room before she could do more than look confused by his strange behavior.

As soon as he was in his room and safely away from a woman three times his age that he suddenly found inexplicably sexy, he buried his head into a pillow and screamed in frustration at his own stupidity.

He was a moron. A bloody colossal moron the likes of which the world had never seen.

The runes had more meanings than the ones he'd focused on during the ritual. Professor Babbling had warned him that these types of runes could have unexpected effects.

 _Uruz_ also meant uncontrolled rage, misdirected force and brutality. _Thurisaz_ also meant aggressive male sexuality and male sexual prowess.

And those were just two runes. He knew that the others meant a whole host of other things that were no doubt contributing to his suddenly inflammed hormones, though those two were definitely the worst. He'd wanted to speed up his maturation and that's what he was getting, but he was also having all the effects of puberty supercharged to completely stupid levels.

This was not good. In fact, he would go so far as to call it bad.

There was no way he'd be able to function like a normal human being in Hogwarts if this started happening every time he saw a pretty girl. And what if something made him angry? Would he even be able to control himself?

Maybe, just maybe, the Ministry restrictions weren't all because they were a bunch of weak willed weenies too scared of magic to use it to the fullest.

Another realization interrupted his cursing streak. He had to hide the runes or he'd be in deep shit if someone saw them. He was nowhere near ready to openly challenge the Ministry on this.

The only way that he knew how to hide them in any kind of practical manner was with another ritual.

"Shite."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"We warned you that it wasn't a good idea." Charlus was saying, sounding far too smug for a painting.

"It'll be fine as long as I can control it." Harry defended. Despite the unexpected side effects, he still thought that the ritual was an overall success.

" _Can_ you control it?" Dorea asked pointedly.

"...maybe." Harry said after a long moment. "I've already prepared another ritual that should work to improve my memory and willpower, as well as hiding my mind and runes."

"Harry, your first rune set was focused strictly on your body. Do you really think it's wise to use runes that affect your mind?" Charlus asked with some exasperation.

Harry swallowed. No, he did not think it was wise, but he didn't have much choice. He couldn't allow his mind to remain an open book for a skilled enough legilimancer. He couldn't allow his runes to stay visible. He couldn't allow the new impulses of his body to have this much power over him.

The first rune set remained a constant drain on his magic and continued to give him a voracious appetite, which he knew would be the case until he stopped growing. Fortunately, the drain was not so severe that it would kill him, but a portion of his magic would be constantly shunted towards improving his growth and thus be unusable for spells.

"It'll be fine. I'm using less volatile runes this time and only three of them instead of seven." He said with more confidence than he honestly felt.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After coming home for the summer, Harry had reserached how much correlation there was between muggle and wizarding knowledge of Norse runes.

To his surprise, it was identical.

This had emboldened him with the idea to use symbols that were completely foreign to the knowledge of British wizards.

He had always intended to hide his mind with a rune, and his original idea had been to use the Japanese kanji for Void to do it.

After what had happened with his first rune set, he'd decided that something else would probably be better. He was just a bit nervous about the possibility of turning himself into a mindless vegetable if he carved Void into his forehead.

In the end he had decided to use a completely fictional set of runes. Professor Babbling had warned him about making up random squiggles and assigning them meaning himself, but he wasn't making these up himself.

Just because these runes happened to belong to the Avariel, a fictional race of winged elves from the Forgotten Realms, it didn't make them meaningless.

Theoretically.

" _Da'Roir._ "

Remembrance. Memory. The Strength of Stones.

A rune that looked like a par of stylized mirrored J's with a another stylized bar connecting them just beneath the top. It would improve his memory and bolster his willpower to be as immovable as rock.

The ritual knife carved the rune into the back of his head, scraping across his skull as it cut through hair and flesh.

When it was finished and his magic flowed into the new rune, he felt a burst of memory.

A thin and pale abomination of a man with red eyes. His mother begging for his life, offering hers in exchange. The specifics written in her own blood and hidden under the carpet. Her life for his, willingly given. The greatest sacrifice. The green flash of a killing curse. Voldemort destroyed in the backlash as he tried to violate the blood contract that he had unknowingly agreed to when he killed his mother.

Harry gasped for air as the short but intense memory played out. Tears gathered in his eyes that had nothing to do with the pain throbbing in the back of his head. He could remember his mother, he knew her voice and face. Knew that she had given everything to protect him.

A few more hazy memories came from the fog of infancy.

His father, a messy haired man with glasses. More carefree than his mother but with the same faintly grim air about him.

Another, more playful man with a barking laugh that sometimes transformed into a big black dog the way that McGonagall could transform into a cat and let him ride on his back. _Sirius_.

A very short man with grubby skin and watery eyes. _Peter._

Sirius finding him in the wreckage, giving him to Hagrid. The half-giant delivering him to Dumbledore and Dumbledore in turn dropping him off on the Dursleys doorstep. Petunia's attempts to treat him like family but her demeanor steadily souring as he continued to display accidental magic.

It took him nearly an hour to calm his emotions enough to continue the ritual.

" _Arhain._ "

Stealth. Secrets. Shadows. The Dark of Night.

A stylized cross, with the horizontal line curling in opposing directions at both ends. Carved just under his right collarbone.

A rune to hide his other runes, showing others only the unmarked flesh they expected to see, lightning bolt scar not included. The same effect as an exceptionally powerful Notice-Me-Not charm that could not be dispelled or pierced without his permission.

" _Aul'El._ "

That Which Cannot be Known or Comprehended.

It looked like a stylized letter 'A', but with the connecting line looping back on the left side. The last rune in the set of three, carved into the middle of his forehead.

It would not build barriers around his mind in the way of Occlumency. Rather, it would make it utterly impossible for anyone but him to understand his thoughts and memories. Any legilimancer that tried to invade his mind would gain nothing but confusion.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry settled into his seat on the Hogwarts Express and pulled a book from his Bag of Holding.

He expected that his second year at Hogwarts would be more eventful than his first. There was the unknown plot that Dobby had warned him off, as well as his continued study of magic.

Perhaps the most difficult thing would be his attempts to make a friend. He honestly had no idea how to go about doing that. Initiating social contact was most definitely not one of his strengths. Perhaps his housemates will have forgotten some of his admittedly rude responses to their initial attempts to talk to him and try again? One could only hope.

After a lot of thinking, he could admit to himself that he may have...overreacted a bit to their fixation on his fame. Most of them had no doubt been brought up hearing ridiculous stories about the Boy-Who-Lived. It wasn't their fault that their parents had no sense of objectivity and kept filling their heads with nonsense. He would have to try not to be so snappish this year if it happened again.

He wondered how his runes would affect his temper. He hadn't had the opportunity to find out just yet.

The powerful surges of desire every time he saw a pretty woman still occurred, but he'd learned to control the effects to some extent, or at least conceal them.

He never thought he'd be glad for the silly tailoring of the Hogwarts robes, but he was. They did a far better job of hiding erections than just pants. If not for the robes, he was quite sure that he would have died of embarrassment in his Astronomy classes. Professor Sinistra would have inevitably noticed his persistent little issue, as she often had to get quite close to students to help adjust their telescopes and she was a beautiful woman.

Still, for all the grief that his rune enhanced hormones promised to give him, he was happy with the results. He'd already heard some comments about how he was growing like a weed and it had been barely over a month since the ritual. For a boy who had always been on the short side, that was well worth the discomfort.

He'd wanted to do some more rituals, but he had to bow to the wisdom of his grandparents(or that of their portraits at any rate) and the mothering of Teeny. Overdoing it was probably not a good idea. For all his initial apprehension about going through with it, he now found himself almost eager to do another. Yes, it was painful. Very painful even. But the pain soon faded into memory and the runes stayed forever.

Well, there would be plenty of downtime from rituals while he was at Hogwarts. He somehow doubted that the staff would look the other way if they learned that a student was practicing ritualistic self-scarrification. Too many eyes at the school to risk it.

No matter though, there were plenty of other things to learn.

Unfortunately, he was almost sure that DADA would continue to be a disappointment. He'd been initially excited to hear that a hero of sorts had taken the post, but that excitement had guttered out when he'd skimmed over the books that the man had assigned.

For one thing, every single one of them read like a novel rather than an instructional text. Even worse, they were filled with nonsense and completely pointless information. The man claimed to have briefly fought a werewolf barehanded in one of those books for example.

Now, Harry didn't know too much about what a real werewolf was like, but if they bore the slightest resemblance to the werewolves of muggle fiction, then trying to fight them up close and unarmed for any length of time was a great way to die messily. You'd need to be a real mountain of a man in thick armor and a nice big sword to survive a melee fight with the beasts. Judging by the picture he'd seen of Gilderoy Lockhart, he was...not.

He could be wrong of course, because he as previously noted didn't know much about what real werewolves were like. They could be pushovers for all he knew.

He rather doubted it though.

The door to the cabin opened, revealing a blonde girl with big blue eyes.

"Hello." She said dreamily, stepped inside and took a seat.

"Hello." Harry replied, too bemused by the bold entrance to be annoyed. Well, she hadn't stopped to gawk at his scar, so he would call it a win.

"I'm Luna Lovegood." She introduced herself in the same dreamy tone.

"Harry Potter." He returned, feeling absurdly pleased when she didn't really react to the name.

"Are we going to be friends? Daddy told me I would make friends."

 _That was easy._ Harry thought to himself in muted shock. He'd spent half the summer debating with himself if trying to make friends with someone was worth the initial awkwardness, only for this rather spacey looking girl to just go ahead and ask him like it was nothing.

"Errr, sure?" He answered uncertainly. There was definitely something a bit off about this girl.

"Are you okay?" Luna asked with a suddenly concerned tone. "You sound like you have wrackspurts."

"What's a wrackspurt?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"They're invisible creatures that float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy." She informed him with authority.

"But if they're invisible, then how can you see them?" Harry asked sceptically.

"You don't see them silly, that's what invisible means." Luna chided, making Harry blink at her logic.

"Then how do you know that they're there?"

"You have to feel them." She explained.

"And what do they feel like?" He pressed, now determined to get to the bottom of this.

"Like fuzzy brains and jumbled thoughts."

Harry opened his mouth to ask another question and then closed it as a sudden realization hit him.

"These wrackspurts...they wouldn't happen to cause confusion would they?"

"They very well might." Luna agreed.

"So you were basically just asking me if I was confused earlier?"

"No, I was wondering if you had wrackspurts."

Harry gaped at her for a moment, wondering if he was being mocked. That dreamy expression of hers made for a surprisingly good poker face.

"Oh, the wrackspurts are back!"

He couldn't help cracking a smile at that. Well, he'd avoided contact with the normal people, so he supposed it was only natural that he'd end up making friends with the oddball.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The two continued to chat until the train started moving. Harry discovered that Luna was surprisingly easy to talk despite the occasional off color comment she made. He already liked her more than anyone he'd met in the Wizarding World so far.

Their interesting and sometimes strange conversation was interrupted by the cabin door opening again, this time revealing a redheaded girl with freckles that had a distinctly Weasley look to her.

"H-hi." She said shyly, her pale face steadily moving to match her hair in color. "Can I, um, sit here?"

"Hello Ginny." Luna said in the same vaguely dreamy tone that seemed to be her normal speaking voice.

"You two know each other?" Harry asked with raised eyebrows.

"We used to be friends." Luna elaborated, causing Ginny to shuffle in place guiltily.

"Come in then, I guess." Harry said, not sure if it was a good idea but also not wanting to tell her to go away since Luna didn't seem to mind.

Ginny quickly did so, sitting in a corner and looking as if she was trying to mimic the powers of a chameleon.

"I'm Harry Potter." Harry introduced himself.

"I know!" Ginny blurted out and immediately flushed scarlet. "I mean, I'm Ginny. Ginny Weasley."

Harry tried not to get too annoyed by her behavior and returned to his conversation with Luna. Ginny was mostly silent and just did a lot of glancing and blushing.

She was also very jealous of her former friend for the easy conversation she had with the Boy-Who-Lived.

Her mother had told her that Harry Potter hadn't made any friends at Hogwarts the previous year and that it would be nice of her if she could become one for the obviously lonely boy.

Her mother's words had been like a dream come true for Ginny, who had grown up on stories of the Boy-Who-Lived. Becoming his friend would be amazing.

And now here she was, in the same cabin with him as they rode to Hogwarts, and she was barely able to get a few words out. She wanted to talk to him too, but she'd already embarrassed herself so much and didn't want to make it any worse.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hanging around with Weasleys again, Potter? The girl might at least be useful as breeding stock, I suppose." Malfoy sneered as he opened the door about an hour later.

Harry felt a surge of potent anger the like of which he hadn't felt in years. The runes on his back prickled, _Uruz_ in particular.

Without really thinking too much, he stood up and shoved the mouthy blond with as much force as he could muster.

Malfoy went sprawling into a painful heap with his two juvenile guard trolls, shouting something about his father hearing of this.

Harry wasn't listening though. It was with monumental effort that he managed to resist the urge to launch a kick or two at the trio of downed idiots. He slammed the cabin door shut instead, drew his wand and put a locking charm on it.

"T-thanks." Ginny said quietly, a shy but dazzling smile on her face. The Boy-Who-Lived had protected her honor, just like in the stories!

Harry simply nodded and sat down. He hadn't done it for her. He didn't know her well enough to really be outraged on her behalf aside from the reaction that any decent person would have to unwarranted insults.

Now that he'd cooled down a bit, he could think about what had happened logically and knew that he'd overreacted. He somehow doubted that Malfoy even properly understood what he'd said. In a society without internet access, twelve year olds generally did not learn enough about the birds and the bees to understand the concept of 'breeding stock'. It was possible that the boy's parents had taught him about it, but more than likely he was simply repeating what his father or mother had said and assuming that it was an insult.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry stared in fascination at the skeletal winged horses harnessed to the carriages that would take them to the castle. He didn't recall seeing those the previous year, though he had admittedly not paid much attention in this direction either.

"Do you know what those horses are?" He asked of a passing Su Li, hoping that the girl knew something he didn't. He wished Luna was here. Strange creatures seemed to be a specialty of hers.

"What horses?" She questioned back, puzzled.

"They're called thestrals, you can only see them if you've seen someone die." A passing upper year Hufflepuff told them, giving Harry a look of sympathy as he did so.

Harry might have been a bit irritated by that look if his memory didn't flash back to the death of his mother at the words. Perhaps unlocking that old memory was allowing him to see them now?

What a strangely specific form of invisibility.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Weasley, Ginevra!"

Ginny hurried over to the stool with the Sorting Hat and put on the ancient magical headwear, eager to get sorted. She could already see Luna and Harry sitting together at the Ravenclaw table and desperately wanted to join them.

 _Ravenclaw eh? You are much better suited to Gryffindor._ The hat said.

 _But I want to be with Harry._ Ginny thought back stubbornly. Her mother had asked her to become his friend and that would be much easier if she was in the same house. She may not have said much to him yet, but she liked what she'd seen of him so far and he had defended her from that prat Malfoy and his insults.

The hat tried to dissuade her a few more times, but Ginny was stubborn and insisted on going to Ravenclaw.

A little known thing about the Sorting Hat was that it didn't so much sort as it helped to guide the children to the house that fit them best. Most children had little opinion on where they wanted to go, but some of them did and went against the recommendations it gave.

Hermione Granger should have gone to Ravenclaw, but her idolization of Dumbledore had her insisting on Gryffindor despite the advice of the Sorting hat.

In an ironic twist, Ginny did the opposite.

"RAVENCLAW!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Over at the Gryffindor table, four Weasleys stared with slack jaws as their little sister went to the table of blue and bronze. They knew that their firecracker of a sister was not nearly bookish enough to go to Ravenclaw. If there had ever been a Gryffindor Weasley, it was Ginny, so it took no effort to assume that Harry Potter was somehow the cause of the strange sorting given that she immediately sat down next to him.

It didn't mean much to Percy, who merely sniffed at the break in the Weasley tradition of being sorted into Gryffindor.

Fred and George hadn't really paid much attention to Harry Potter so far, but his association with their favorite little sister merited a stern talk about his intentions with ickle Gin-Gin. And a great deal of teasing. And possibly pranks, but that was par for the course.

Ron was the most confused of the lot, as this event did not at all compute with his view of the world. Weasleys went to Gryffindor, that was simply the way of things. How could Ginny be a Ravenclaw?

The time since Halloween and Hermione's death had been hard on Ron. He knew that he shared at least partial responsibility for the death of his housemate.

In truth, he had barely scraped through first year. His usual lack of academic ability coupled with the guilt he'd been feeling causing his normally poor grades to plummet to terrible. It took the help of all three of his older brothers to get his grades to the point where he didn't need to repeat his first year.

His mother had not been happy, but had also tried not to be too harsh with him, knowing the cause of his poor performance. Some of it at least.

He'd mostly managed to put Hermione's death behind him, but he was much more careful with his words now.

He would go talk to Ginny later.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Albus Dumbledore had merely blinked at the unexpected sorting. A Weasley in Ravenclaw? How novel.

Then he saw Harry Potter sitting next to young Ginny and Luna Lovegood and actually _talking to someone his age!_

He smiled. It may not be exactly what he'd planned when he'd spoken to Molly earlier in the summer, but plans could sometimes go awry in good ways too.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry did his best to ignore the discomfort caused by the odd looks he was getting from the other Ravenclaws. No doubt they were wondering about his abnormal friendliness with Luna.

Well, Ginny was here too he supposed.

He would honnestly have prefered if she had gone to Gryffindor like her brothers. The constant blushing and shy glances she'd been giving him the entire train ride had made for a rather awkward experience.

Only the memory of his resolution not to judge as quickly as he had with Hermione stopped him from alienating her right off the bat. The obvious crush she had on him was more than a little annoying and was not returned in the slightest. He had enough problems keeping his eyes off the prettier upper year girls without having to deal with this too.

Luna was a godsend in that regard, her quirky conversation style keeping him well distracted from wondering about the kind of bodies those unflattering robes were hiding. Mostly.

Well, he'd give Ginny a chance to grow out of this rather than pushing her away immediately. Who knows, she might actually find that she didn't like the real him too much.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Yes, I killed Dobby. MUAHAHAHAHAH.**

 **I wonder if this is what George R. R. Martin feels like?**

 **But on a more serious note, Dobby is dead because I didn't want to have a 12 year old outsmarting a professional slippery bastard like Lucius. Events in canon notwithstanding (what the hell was Dobby doing in Hogwarts at the time anyway?).**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm sure there are a bunch of reviews that I should have replied to in the fast week or so, but the website was being a bit screwy. For some reason it kept claiming that any reviews posted after December 30th didn't exist and couldn't be replied to. Didn't even display them in the review page. Weird stuff, but it seems to have passed now.**

 **Many thanks to Joe Lawyer for his beta-ing xD.**

 **Anyway, here goes chapter 4. Enjoy.**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Weasley twins made a beeline for the Ravenclaw table, where they could see Harry and Luna eating breakfast. Apparently, getting sorted into the house of eagles had not made Ginny a morning person.

"Greetings."

"Salutations."

"Good morning."

"Hello."

"I don't believe we've been introduced."

"I'm Fred-"

"-handsome fellow isn't he? And I'm George."

"Together we are the amazing,"

"the stupendous,"

"the incadescent-"

"-since when do you know that word, my brother?"

"Since yesterday, and now you've ruined the flow."

"Oh no!"

"Anyway, we are...The Weasley Twins!"

Harry looked at them blandly over the mountain of food piled on his plate, not entirely sure what to make of this introduction.

"Hi." He said and went back to stuffing his face. He always woke up with a monster appetite these days.

"I say, I don't think even ickle Ronniekins can eat that much."

"And he can eat a lot indeed."

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day." Harry justified, despite having been one of those people who didn't eat much in the mornings before the runes. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Indeed you can."

"You see Harry, we are fairly certain that Ginny only went to Ravenclaw because of you."

"In light of this, we would like to know-"

"-what your intentions are towards our little sister." They twins finished in unison, grinning down at him evilly.

"Intentions?" Harry echoed. He understood their meaning perfectly well, but he was friggin' twelve and Ginny was eleven. Sure, he had apparently done a number on his puberty with that ritual, but they didn't know that. Moreover, his hormones seemed to be targeting the more developed girls exclusively, for which he was thankful. It meant that he would only have trouble keeping his eyes from wandering during mealtimes, free periods and such and not during classes, with the notable exception of professor Sinistra.

Luna, who had thus far contented herself with silently making the perfect jam spread on her bread, decided to enlighten her friend.

"They want to know if you're going to put your penis in Ginny's vagina." She said serenely, bringing her bread to eye level to make sure that the jam was perfect.

Harry spat out the half-masticated morsel of food currently in his mouth, coughing violently as his body protested him nearly sending solids into his lungs.

Though shocked as badly as Harry by Luna's words, the Weasley twins had the advantage of not eating at the time and were able to recover faster.

"Aren't you a bit young to know about that?" Fred asked, somewhat hypocritically it must be said. Although they hadn't truthfully expected Harry to catch on to their insinuation and were just going to tease him.

"I watched daddy put his penis in mummy's vagina, and in her mouth, and her bum. It looked fun and I asked if I could play too, but mummy explained that it was a grown-up game and that I would know when I was old enough to play. I wanted to be good at it, so I started reading mummy's books and peeping on them when they played." Luna explained with a dreamy smile, taking a rapturous bite of her perfectly prepared slice of bread.

The three males present exchanged akward looks as the silence stretched on, heavy and oppressive with only the sound of Luna's chewing to break it. Well, that and the general noise of people having breakfast in the Great Hall. The twins were in fourth year now and old enough to understand how utterly strange Luna's statement was, while Harry's internet exposure took care of any ignorance on his part. In fact, the only one who seemed oblivious to the reality of the situation was Luna herself.

"We've got a, uh..."

"...a prank!"

"Yes! A prank to plan."

"Talk to you later Harrykins."

"Yes, much later."

"It sure was nice of the twins to come and introduce themselves to you like that." Luna commented.

"Uh...yeah." Harry replied weakly, having the dual problem of feeling incredibly awkward and pointlessly aroused by the imagery that Luna's words had brought to mind. He recalled thinking yesterday that Luna was a great distraction from his out of control hormones, but now he was wondering if she wasn't going to make it worse.

His meal was once again interrupted when he saw a smaller-than-average first year Gryffindor coming at him with a big smile and a very antique looking camera.

"Hi Harry! I'm-I'm Colin Creevey." The boy said breathlessly, edging closer tentatively. "I'm in Gryffindor. Would you...would it be alright if I...can I take a picture?" He finally managed, raising the camera hopefully.

"No, It wouldn't be alright." Harry replied irritably, feeling his runes prickling.

"Please." Colin begged. "It's to prove that I've met you. I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead" He stared unabashedly at Harry's scar when he said this. "and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move!" Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and continued on. "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you." He looked imploringly at Harry. "Maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

Harry's blood pressure had steadily been rising as the younger boy continued his unsolicited word vomit. Intellectually, he knew that Colin was just excited about magic and probably had a thing for photography. He was in all likelihood just out to get a picture of the famous Harry Potter that he'd read about so that he could brag to his parents.

Harry was far too busy trying to control the suddenl swell of disproportionate rage that the pushy and inconsiderate brat had inspired in him to think of that though. Where did the annoying little shit get off asking for photos?! And to sign them too?! Even worse, Colin had raised his voice in his desperate plea to get Harry to reconsider and attracted a lot of attention, which he had never been comfortable with and was now serving to make him even more angry.

When Colin was done talking he looked back at Harry's eyes and blanched at the furious glare being directed at him. He was about to stutter out an apology and vacate the area when a third party decided to make it worse.

" _Signed photos?_ You're giving out _signed photos_ , Potter?" Malfoy asked scathingly, being deliberately loud enough for the entire Great Hall to hear. "Everyone line up! Harry Potter is giving out signed photos!"

Colin was by this point wishing that he'd never approached his hero, or at least that he'd done it somewhere more private. He knew that this situation was his fault, so he tried to help.

"You're just jealous."

Eleven year olds did not generally make good problem solvers, alas.

" _Jealous?_ " Malfoy sneered. "Why would I be jealous of an ugly scar across my-AAAH!"

Malfoy's scathing retort turned into a scream as Harry's self-control snapped and he hurled a heavy golden goblet at the blond's face, nearly breaking his nose.

The scream snapped Harry out of the angry fog, but he knew that it wasn't gone yet. He pushed away from the table and shouldered past a stunned Colin, barely noticing as he nearly knocked the smaller boy to the ground.

"Harry!" an deeper, adult voice called loudly in what was probably supposed to be a friendly tone, a hand clamping down on his shoulder.

The plates of food trembled, some of them having their contents inexplicably explode.

"You can't just-AAAAH!"

Whatever advice Gilderoy Lockhart had been about to impart would forever remain unheard as the action renewed Harry's fury and caused him to stab a fork into the man's hand. He hadn't even registered that he was still clutching a fork.

The entire Great Hall watched in stunned silence as the Boy-Who-Lived stomped out, rage written in every movement.

"Oh dear, he blew up my jam." Luna pouted, wiping a bit of the raspberry mess from her face and leaving the table. If there was no more jam to be had, then she might as well go help her friend calm down.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry hadn't gone very far, only to the first empty hallway.

He was leaning on the wall and taking deep breaths, trying to ignore the incessant prickling of his runes, when Luna found him.

The sight of her with raspberry jam splattered all over her face put a crack in his anger and he couldn't help laughing at her pout.

"You blew it all over my face Harry." She chided. "It was supposed to go in my mouth."

Harry continued to laugh breathlessly as his anger drained away, wondering if Luna was deliberately using innuendo or if she was honestly clueless.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry had no illusions that he would be getting away with what he'd done scot free, so the summons by Dumbledore came as no surprise.

"I hope you realize that your actions in the Great Hall today were unacceptable, Harry." The headmaster said gravely, staring into the boy's green eyes.

He attempted a brief touch of legilimency, but received only a confusing kaleidoscope of impressions that made no sense to him. It was remarkably similar to what a person experienced if they ever found themselves in a fidelius protected location without knowing the secret. What had happened to the boy over the summer to change his mind in this way? How did he even function?

Harry felt _Aul'El_ prickle on his forehead and saw the flicker of confusion on Dumbledore's face. He had to quickly clamp down on the surge of anger it made him feel. He'd already suspected that the headmaster made a habit of reading minds when he could get away with it. It made the advice of his grandparents all the more relevant. Dumbledore was not to be trusted.

"Yes sir." He answered.

He was finding it hard to regret what he'd done to Malfoy and Lockhart, but he knew that he couldn't keep throwing goblets or stabbing with forks every time he got angry. He had to find a way to control himself. _Da'Roir_ would obviously only do so much to help him in that regard. In fact, it was doing less than he had hoped. His memory was much improved, but his emotions were far from under control.

Occlumency was supposed to help with controlling one's emotions, so maybe it was time to start learning that? He'd neglected to try it so far because the book said that it took a long time and using a rune seemed so much easier.

"Good," Dumbledore said with a nod, deciding not to mention the multitude of points that Ravenclaw had lost over this incident since he knew that the boy didn't care about the house cup. "then you will not object to having detention with Filch for a week or to making a public apology to Mr. Malfoy and professor Lockhart."

Harry's face twisted in anger. The detention he'd expected and wasn't going to object to even if it would cut into his personal time, but publically apologizing to those two blowhards?

"Are _they_ going to apologize to _me_?" He asked back.

Dumbledore blinked at the cold tone, wondering where all this anger was coming from. Harry hadn't been nearly this difficult the previous year.

"Whatever for, Harry? You were the one who assaulted them."

"I didn't do it for fun." Harry retorted sarcastically. "Malfoy was deliberately provoking me and Lockhart grabbed me."

"Surely you realize that you cannot attack fellow students over schoolyard teasing, or attack a professor simply for placing his hand on your shoulder?" Dumbledore asked pointedly.

Harry did know that, but that didn't mean that he was going to apologize for it. "I'm not going to apologize for attacking them if they don't apologize for what they did."

"Harry, I thought you were more mature than this." Dumbledore rebuked, his entire manner radiating disappointment.

"It's hard to be mature when you're dealing with idiots." Harry retorted, not caring one whit about the old man's disappointment at this point. "Either everyone apologizes, or nobody does."

Harry knew – in a distant sort of way – that he was being more than a bit unreasonable here. Though Draco was undeniably a tragic waste of air, he hadn't done anything worse than countless other children who thought that getting someone else in trouble was fun. Certainly nothing to deserve getting a metal goblet to the face. Lockhart was a similar case, except that in his case it was a fork stabbing. He could only thank his lucky stars that it hadn't been Snape or McGonagall. Lockhart was quickly shaping out to be comic relief and was therefore inconsequential.

Unfortunately, he was having to deal with his rune enhanced temper and digging his heels in seemed like a perfectly fine thing to do.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

While Harry did briefly attain legendary status among the Gryffindors for managing to toss a goblet at Malfoy, stab a professor and get a lengthy detention on his first day back in Hogwarts, that was no comfort to him when he had to spend several hours every day doing manual labor with Filch.

He could vaguely recall needing to do age inappropriate chores at the Dursleys, but it had been a long time since he'd done any kind of mind numbingly repetitive physical labor. The whole experience was made worse because Filch kept pontificating on the kind of punishments he'd like to use on students.

Seriously, how did a man that wanted to use a cat o' nine tails with barbed metal tips on children work in a school?

The issue of the public apology had stalled since nobody actually wanted to do it and Harry was quite sure that whatever forbearance Snape had found for him last year had now evaporated. The Potions master had spent a large portion of the previous year looking at him as if he was a puzzle, but now he'd reverted to back to his full nastiness.

Harry suspected that he had given some pointers to Filch on how to make detention more unpleasant. At least it was the last day. The only reason his temper wasn't getting away from him again was because he'd expected it to happen and resigned himself to it. He definitely needed to get a handle on that problem though, and fast.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Uh, Harry?" Ginny started uncertainly.

"Yes?" The boy in question asked, not looking up from his book.

"Weren't you supposed to be in detention?"

"Why would I be in detention?"

"Because you called professor Lockhart a..." Ginny paused for a moment, blushing. "...a bucket of warm piss and stomped out of his classroom?"

"I did not." Harry protested, his own face going red. This new temper of his was starting to become a serious problem. "I said that he's about as _qualified to_ _teach_ as a bucket of warm piss."

"Okay, but shouldn't you be in detention for that?"

"According to Lockhart, yes, but I'm not going to waste my time helping that idiot answer his fan mail."

"Do you, um, want to go for a w-walk around the lake then?" Ginny stuttered out, her previous blush returning with a vengeance.

"I have homework to do." Harry replied, going back to his book.

"O-oh, maybe some other time then!" She said in a rush and ran off, hiding her crestfallen expression.

Harry released an aggravated sigh. Why oh why couldn't she tell that he was simply not interested?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

" _Come ...come to me...Let me rip you...Let me tear you...Let me kill you..._ "

Harry paused on his way back to the Ravenclaw tower from one of his late night excursions to the Restricted Section, a chill going down his spine at the malicious voice.

"Hello?" He asked softly.

There was no answer and it was a much disturbed Harry Potter that returned to his room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Are you sure you weren't just hearing things?" Ginny asked sceptically the next day, after being told about the voice.

Harry paused for a moment to consider that. It was not _entirely_ impossible that he might have been sleepy and imagined it, but he was getting that feeling of foreshadowing for plot related information over this. It was certainly ominous enough.

"No, I'm sure it was another voice and I definitely wasn't imagining it."

"Don't worry about it Harry, I hear voices all the time." Luna added reassuringly. "If your voice comes back, we could introduce it to my voices and they could be friends."

"It didn't sound like the type of voice that would have friends." Harry replied, amused.

Luna looked genuinely upset by this. "Oh. Maybe it's just lonely?"

"Luna, this is serious!" Ginny said with a scowl. She hadn't been sleeping well lately and wasn't in the mood for Luna's games.

"I know." Luna agreed wholeheartedly. "Loneliness is a terrible thing."

Ginny looked like she wanted to hit something.

"I'll be sure to try befriending the voice if I hear it again." Harry interjected, still amused. "If it still wants to kill people after that, I can point it at Malfoy and Lockhart."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _Hogwarts staff room, September 30th._

A new year had arrived, meaning another start-of-year meeting between the headmaster and the four heads of house.

Most of the relevant topics ranging from school brooms to the new first years had already been discussed, leaving only things of special importance.

"Albus, you really must do something about Lockhart. The man is a menace." McGonagall said in exasperation.

"I would like nothing more, Minerva." Dumbledore replied with a sigh. "Unfortunately, I am out of options. There is literally nobody to replace him with."

"There is something of a minor revolt brewing among my house because of him." Flitwick added, a touch amused. "Apparently, Mr. Potter's dramatic exit and refusal to attend any more of the man's classes has planted the idea in many of their heads that they would be better off not attending the class at all. Ms. Lovegood and Weasley have already stopped and are using Mr. Potter's notes from last year to learn the material."

Snape made a derisive snort. His opinion on Harry Potter had taken a sharp dive since the start of the year when the boy had thrown his temper tantrum. Oh, the boy was certainly nothing like his father, but he was still a brat.

"Were you not going to convince him to attend the DADA lessons again?" Dumbledore asked.

"I tried, but he told me that he may not be able to stop himself from another stabbing if he had to answer one more question about Lockhart's favorite color." Flitwick answered. "Sadly, I cannot blame him."

This time it was Sprout and McGonagall who snorted. They couldn't blame him either. There was a reason why the boy had gotten off so lightly, mostly because all the professors had been silently gleeful at seeing Lockhart dance around with a fork sticking out of his hand. Even Poppy had been rougher than strictly necessary when she removed it.

"Have any of you noticed that Harry seems to be rather...angry this year?" Dumbledore asked, deciding not to pursue the issue of DADA attendance. Lockhart would serve as a placeholder professor just as well whether he had any students to teach or not, which was really the only thing that had ever been expected of him.

"Yes, it's the strangest thing really." Sprout said. "I remember him as being very even tempered last year, but I've seen him visibly clamp down on his anger several times in the past month."

Flitwick and McGonagall offered their own observations, which were just more of the same. Harry was occasionaly exhibiting anger management issues.

Snape let the other three heads of house debate the matter for a few minutes with the headmaster before he simply couldn't tolerate their blindness anymore.

"Has it perhaps escaped your attention that there is more going on with the boy than merely a few angry outbursts?" He asked cuttingly.

What do you mean, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

"He has been ogling the older girls when he thinks that nobody is looking."

"Surely not...he's only twelve!" McGonagall said.

"An early bloomer then?" Dumbledore opined with a smile. "He _has_ been having a bit of a growth spurt recently."

Severus' observation came as no small comfort for the old wizard. He had feared that this was a result of learning the prophecy, so the possibility of it being merely growing pains was a great relief. Powerful wizards often made for volatile teenagers. Dumbledore could well remember his own explosive temper when he had been growing up. He had not truly calmed down until Ariana's death had shown him the danger of rash actions done in anger.

"It seems a bit extreme to be merely puberty." Sprout said dubiously. Her Hufflepuffs were a generally calm sort.

"You wouldn't be saying that if James Potter had been in your house." McGonagall countered, vividly recalling the truly ridiculous amount of trouble that James and Sirius had been once puberty hit them.

"Or Lily." Flitwick chuckled. While the redhead had not shown overt interest in boys through her Hogwarts years, her temper had been a fearsome thing.

Dumbledore twinkled.

Snape sneered at the mention of his childhood nemesis and brooded at the mention of his lost love.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was Halloween and Harry was once again shunning the feast in the Great Hall by eating in the kitchens, but this time he had company.

"I wonder if the heliopaths in the Ministry celebrate Halloween." Luna mused, gorging herself on pudding.

"Maybe." Harry replied idly as he continued to eat. He was pretty sure that heliopaths didn't exist, but why argue about it? Better to just change the subject. "What was up with Ginny today? She seemed kind of worn out."

"Oh, she was just upset that you wouldn't go to the feast with her." Luna told him airily. The redhead kept on trying to get Harry romantically interested in her no matter how many times Luna told her that Ginny's larval bizzwhizzlers simply weren't catching the attention of Harry's creeping lickbiggles.

Harry grumbled a bit at that. The redhead's ongoing crush had transformed from silent blushing to the occasional stuttering invitation to do this or that thing that he had no interest in. She was alright most of the time, but he had to struggle not to snap at her whenever she got it into her head to make another attempt at asking him out.

" _...rip...tear...kill..._ "

Harry's head snapped as the familiar malicious hiss reached his ears.

"I can hear that voice again!" He said.

"Let's go find it and make it it our friend!" Luna proclaimed, grabbing some more pudding for the road.

The two Ravenclaws tore out of the kitchen, following what vague directions Harry could give.

" _...so hungry...for so long..._ "

"It's moving up!" He said.

"What is it saying?" Luna asked.

"Something about being hungry."

"Do you think it likes pudding?"

Harry snorted. It didn't seem very likely, given how homicidal the voice sounded.

He suddenly stopped at that thought, abruptly realizing that chasing after a murderous disembodied voice may not be the wisest course of action.

"Why are you stopping, Harry? Our new friend is getting away!" Luna called, running ahead.

" _...kill...time to kill..._ "

"Luna!" Harry yelled and started running again, though this time it was with the intent of stopping her from potentially getting herself killed.

They sprinted right past the ground floor and further up, onto the second floor.

" _...blood...I SMELL BLOOD!_ "

"Oh, I guess Mrs. Norris found the voice before we did." Luna said plainly, staring at the petrified form of the much disliked cat that was currently hanging from a torch bracket by her tail.

On the wall, a message was daubed in foot high letters in something that looked suspiciously like blood.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED, ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.

"Luna, I think we might want to get out of here." Harry said nervously, realizing how suspicious this would look to any passerby.

Naturally, The Halloween feast just happened to have ended a short while earlier, flooding the corridor with students. Harry and Luna quickly found themselves surrounded and subjected to a lot of pointing and whispering.

"Enemies of the Heir beware! You'll be next mudbloods!" The distinct voice of Draco Malfoy broke through, they blond Slytherin himself having pushed his way to the front.

Filch was the next arrival, his mood quickly turning murderous upon seeing his beloved cat petrified. He was just about to attempt strangling Harry when Dumbledore showed up.

"Hello headmaster." Luna greeted cheerfully. "Did you hear the voices too?"

"Voices?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Harry heard a voice and we chased it up here." Luna explained, not seeing Harry's frantic signaling to stop.

"I think both of you had better come with me." The old wizard said after a moment.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Now Harry, would you care to tell me what your friend meant by 'voices'?" Dumbledore asked once they were all settled in his office.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to talk about it. Unfortunately, Luna had not really left him with the option of keeping things to himself.

"I heard a voice moving through the school, talking about how hungry it was and about killing something." He admitted.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever heard this voice before?"

"Once, late at night." Harry replied, not mentioning the location since he'd been breaking curfew at the time.

"From your bed in the Ravenclaw tower?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling.

Harry nodded jerkily, fairly sure that the old wizard didn't believe him but unwilling to just outright admit it.

"Very well, could you describe this voice to me."

"It was..." Harry paused, not sure how to describe a voice. "cold, I guess. And it had a hiss to it."

Dumbledore's brows furrowed in thought, a suspicion growing in his mind.

"Would you like to help me test something, Harry?" He asked.

"Sure, I guess." Harry agreed cautiously.

Dumbledore nodded and took out his wand, pointing it at his desk.

" _Serpentsortia_."

Harry jumped at bit as a snake materialized on the desk, staring wide eyed at the reptile.

"Try talking to it." The headmaster prompted, noticing that young Ms. Lovegood was starting to bounce in her seat excitedly. She clearly knew what was being implied.

Harry gave him an odd look, but did so.

" _Hello._ "

The snake perked up and looked directly at him. " _Grettings Speaker._ "

"It talked back." Harry said in amazement.

"You're a Parselmouth!" Luna proclaimed, just as amazed.

"A what?"

"A wizard who can speak to serpents." Dumbledore explained, vanishing the conjured snake. "It is a rare gift that tends to pass through bloodlines."

"Did one of my parents have it too then?" Harry asked in interest.

"No Harry, they didn't, but Voldemort did. It is possible that some of his power was transfered to you that night." Dumbledore said, avoiding the issue of the Horcrux that was lodged in the boy's scar.

Normally, he would not be telling this to anyone besides Harry, but he was hoping that the shared secret would make their friendship tighter. Giving Harry extra reasons to feel obligated to fight Voldemort was always good.

Harry frowned at that. It sounded a bit farfetched, but who could really say what kind of price his mother's blood contract had exacted from the Dark Lord when he attempted to violate it? It could very well have torn away a piece of his magic when it failed to kill him completely.

Voldemort's not-quite-death still bugged him. The only thing he knew of that would allow an unscrupulous magic user to survive the destruction of their body was a phylactery, but Voldemort had still been a living wizard and not an undead Lich. Then again, he had no idea how magic of that sort worked in the real world, or if it was even possible to make a soul jar. He hoped it was something else. If Voldemort _had_ made a phylactery and was at all smart, he'd hidden it in some remote corner of the world that nobody would ever think to look. It would make killing him for good hellishly problematic.

"Does that mean that I was hearing a snake of some kind?" He finally asked, focusing back on the topic at hand.

"It is possible." Dumbledore admitted with some reluctance, not wanting the two children getting mixed up in this any further. "You had best get back to the Ravenclaw Tower and get some rest. Also, I would urge to keep your Parseltongue ability a secret. Voldemort has given it a bad reputation in Britain and the other students may not look kindly upon you for having it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When the two children left his office, Dumbledore began pacing in worry.

When the Chamber had first been opened half a century ago, they had never fully resolved the mystery. Hagrid had been blamed for it, but Dumbledore knew that the groundskeeper had not been the culprit.

Tom Riddle had always been his primary suspect, but there had been no proof.

He had done a great deal of research on the subject of permanent petrification, trying to figure out how it had been done.

There were potions that could do it, but forcibly administering a potion to unwilling students or a cat would be quite a feat. Especially in the positions they had been found in.

Dark magic was also a possibility. There were spells that would petrify people permanently. That had in fact been the assumption that Dumbledore had been working from. Tom Riddle had been an exceptional student and might have been capable of it, though he had desperately hoped it wasn't him.

There were some creatures that could petrify people, but most of them were automatically ruled out as being unable to survive since the time of Salazar Slytherin or because they would have left obvious markings on the bodies.

None were snakes.

He had not considered that the creature in question might have a Killing Gaze. He had thought that Myrtle had been an aberration in the pattern, not that the others had merely been hideously lucky.

A quick use of his pensieve confirmed what he had already feared would be the case. All the other petrified students from fifty years ago could have conceivably seen only a reflection. Mrs. Norris was a cat and would have likely kept her eyes on the ground and Dumbledore recalled that the hallways had been flooded slightly. The water would have reflected the eyes.

There was only one serpent that could have lived for a thousand years beneath the school. It was also the only serpent with a Killing Gaze.

A basilisk. The oldest one in known history. One so old that its gaze had become powerful enough to affect people even through indirect eye contact, something that had never been seen before. It must be gigantic by now.

In retrospect it was terribly obvious that Salazar Slytherin might have bred such a beast, an observation that made Dumbledore feel foolish for overlooking it.

But who was commanding the beast? Despite being a parselmouth himself, Harry had an alibi that the house elves could easily verify. Not to mention that the boy had apparently been unaware of his gift until now and Dumbledore didn't believe that he had any reason to be loosing the basilisk on the school to begin with.

They were obviously clever enough to freeze the portraits and take various other precautions that would make finding them difficult. They had even killed Hagrid's roosters, another indication of what the beast was. Roosters were not difficult to find, but the basilisk unfortunately was.

He hoped that he could find the Heir before he or she struck again. He hoped that nobody would die. He hoped that it was not Voldemort's doing. He hoped that Harry would not be targeted if it was. The boy was not ready to face his nemesis yet.

Dumbledore kept pacing in his office under the watchful gazes of past headmasters, too many hopes and too many worries weighing on his shoulders to let him sleep. It was only when Fawkes returned with his soothing phoenix song from wherever he went on these trips of his that the old wizard was able to relax enough to get some rest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry and Luna found themselves on the receiving end of a lot of pointing and whispering for the next few days after that incident. Thanks to Luna's comment about hearing voices, there was a general concensus that they were both a bit loony.

Well, _more_ loony. Harry had never quite fit in – in no small part due to his own actions the previous year and because he was more interested in magic than people– and Luna was...Luna.

This kind of reputation might have attracted bullies in most situations, but they managed to avoid that scenario.

Harry was well known to be exceptionally talented with practical magic, making him an unappealing target for people his own age and the upper years had better things to do than pick on a second year. Not to mention that his spectacular blow up in the Great Hall at the start of term made people just a bit wary of his temper.

Luna _would_ have been an appealing target for bullies on her own, but several factors prevented that from happening. Her friendship with Harry was one of those, but only to a point since he had little to no interaction with the current first years aside from Ginny and Luna.

It was actually Ginny that was the main reason for the lack of people trying to pick on Luna. The spacey blonde was not a particularly forceful person and wouldn't have retaliated against bullies, but Ginny had grown up with six older brothers and had no problem asserting herself. Those very same older brothers were another reason why they were generally left alone. Nobody wanted the Weasley twins targeting them specifically.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The school year plodded along. Classes were had, Quidditch was played, magic was learned.

Harry focused most of his efforts on learning Occlumency, desperately wanting to regain full control of himself. It was slow going without a teacher, but there was nothing else for it. He'd nearly lost his temper several times since the start of term and if the smirk that one sixth year girl had given him, his newfound appreciation for the female form had not gone unnoticed.

He'd also gotten some comments on his height, which was fast approaching the territory of being abnormally tall for a twelve year old. On a personal level, Harry was highly pleased by this. He knew that it was going to get him some very pointed questions when he didn't stop growing, but he would just have to deal with that as it came.

Lockhart occasionally made a nuisance of himself, but was otherwise a non-factor. His class attendance continued to drop steadily, with a large portion of those who stayed being starstruck girls.

The matter of the Chamber of Secrets remained a popular topic of gossip, with increasingly outlandish theories being bandied about as a form of entertainment. Nobody had liked Mrs. Norris, so nobody was overly concerned about the whole thing despite Draco Malfoy's best efforts to frighten the muggleborn students with his sneering.

Right up to the point when Colin Creevey was found petrified and things suddenly became serious.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Poor Colin, I knew him well." Luna said mournfully.

"Did you just quote Shakespeare?" Harry asked incredulously. Since when did wizards know anything about muggle literature?

"No, I actually knew Colin well. He came to ask me if I could get you to take a photo with him at least once a week." Luna answered in a confused tone. "Who's Shakespeare?"

"Where did they find him?" Ginny interjected, her face pale and frightened.

"Fourth floor, probably looking for the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower. The creepy little stalker." Harry grumbled. Colin's persistent hero worship had been so annoying that he couldn't even bring himself to feel ashamed of his relief at the boy's petrification. Maybe it would be different if he'd been killed, but as the annoying Gryffindor would only be playing statue for a few months, Harry was able to take joy in another's misfortune with zero guilt.

"Do you think it'll happen again?" Ginny asked meekly, desperately hoping to hear a denial. She still vividly remembered the blackout she'd had during Halloween and the blood she'd found on her fingers when she came to. She would never hurt Colin or even Mrs. Norris, but that was a pretty suspicious situation by any stretch.

"Probably. I doubt that this 'Heir of Slytherin' character would start something like this only to stop before any real harm was done." Harry answered. There was also Dobby's warning to consider, which he was now certain had pertained to current events. If only he could figure out who Dobby's master was, then he could make a reasonable guess at the perpetrator. He'd already asked the Hogwarts house elves and they hadn't been able to tell him anything.

He'd briefly entertained the idea that Draco Malfoy might be the culprit, but dismissed it quickly. Not even Draco would be stupid enough to keep running his mouth about the Heir 'purging' the school of mudbloods if he was responsible for this. Not to mention that it apparently needed to be a Parselmouth, which Draco wasn't as far as anyone knew.

And people _would_ know. The blond Slytherin would have bragged about it far and wide the moment he learned that he was one.

Ginny gnawed at her lip in intense worry.

"Don't worry Ginny, I'm sure that Harry will be able to make friends with the basilisk as soon as we find it." Luna tried to comfort, only making the redhead girl pale further at the mention of the Serpent King.

It hadn't taken an exhaustive amount of research to figure out _that_ bit of information after the talk with Dumbledore. There really weren't that many snakes that fit the criteria.

"I really don't think that the basilisk is looking for friends, Luna." Harry said in exasperation, knowing that his argument would likely fall on deaf ears. Again.

While Luna went into a lecture on the horrors of loneliness as it pertained to millenia old snakes that contained only trace amounts of logic, Ginny continued to gnaw at her lip.

She wasn't a Parselmouth, so she shouldn't be capable of commanding the basilisk that was presumably lurking in the Chamber of Secrets, but she couldn't help worrying. She'd blacked out earlier today as well, the same as she had on Halloween.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The duelling club debacle passed with little incident save to further demonstrate Lockhart's incompetence. Harry had been interested but done a 180 as soon as he saw who was hosting it, unknowingly circumventing a large amount of pointless drama.

He had decided against staying at Hogwarts for Christmas this year. He had some things he wanted to do and he couldn't do them at the castle.

Luna was also leaving, which subsequently meant that Ginny was as well since she didn't want to stay in the castle all by herself.

The only oddity about Harry's decision to go back to his foster parents for Christmas was the fact that he had no intention of actually seeing his foster parents. Or even informing them that he wasn't at Hogwarts for that matter.

Instead of getting into an expensive car and driving back to 74 Cromwell Road from King's Cross, Harry wandered into London in search of a library, internet café or something else with public internet access.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry logged in to his account on the website where he posted his arithmancy problems, eager to see what answers he'd gotten.

The answers were there as he had hoped, but he also had a surprising private message from another user. Why would anyone want to talk to him privately?

 _We need to talk. Contact me as soon as you receive this message._

The near demand sent a frisson of worry up Harry's spine. He was starting to get the feeling that his idea about posting arithmancy problems on the internet was not as clever as he'd thought it was.

 _I'm here._ He sent simply, getting back a set of instructions not three minutes later.

Swallowing nervously, Harry followed the instructions that led him to a public chat room. One of those that were frequently used as examples of where innocent young boys and girls might encounter pedophiles in fact.

Coincidentally, this did not make Harry feel any better about the situation. Still, he was far too worried about what this might have to do with his arithmancy to be turned away. Besides, he reasoned that as long as he didn't give out his name or address, it would be fine.

He received a request for a private channel almost as soon as he entered the chat room, from someone with the almost ridiculously stereotypical username of 'xXPussyDestroyer33Xx'.

 _I bet you thought you were being clever by posting arithmancy problems on the internet._ The presumed man on the other end began without preamble. _You probably thought you were one-upping the wizard-raised by using technology to solve problems beyond your own ability. Only a European wizard could be so sheltered and judging by your vernacular I'd guess British._

 _Why European?_ Harry wrote back, not wanting to admit that his caustic interlocutor was right.

 _Well I suppose you could also have been American, but I doubt it._ The other avoided.

 _Why not Chinese?_ Harry asked, picking a country at random.

 _There are no more magical enclaves in China, Mao made sure of it._ Came the reply, the words somehow seeming heavier than mere text should allow.

Harry frowned. He'd never heard of anyone named Mao before. _Who is Mao?_

There was a long pause and Harry got the distinct feeling that he had surprised his conversation partner.

 _You must be very young to not know about Mao Zedong. To summarize, he was once a leader of China and is also responsible for the deaths of some 45-78 million people during his reign, among them the majority of China's magical population._

 _But why?_ Harry asked in shock.

 _Dictators do not like sharing power and the Chinese sorcerers were very powerful. They had perhaps the oldest magical civilization on the planet and were very proud of it. As they were Chinese, Mao considered them to be beholden to him. They were outraged and mocked the man for his stupidity, jeering as they turned him away, secure in their superiority and their millenia of gathered magical expertise. They learned too late that traitors, guns and strength of numbers was more than a match for their magics._

 _Why would wizards turn on their own?_ Harry wrote back, not really knowing what else to say. He remembered his housemate Su Li and wondered if her parents or grandparents had been one of those who'd escaped. Or had they been the traitors?

 _Why else? Because they had been scorned and derided by their own for whatever reason. Mao's offers would have sounded very appealing to them. It didn't take long before they were betrayed in turn._

 _My history books don't say anything about this._

 _Of course they don't. The European magicals like to ignore things they find inconvenient. You won't hear about the same thing happening in Russia with Stalin either. The Frost Sorcerer Cabal protected the country for centuries, sending the Great Winter to break the back of any army that threatened the motherland, but that was not good enough for Stalin. He wanted to control everything and destroyed what he couldn't._

 _What about Japan?_ Harry asked next, hoping to hear that Cho Chang, the pretty Ravenclaw one year above him, was at least a regular immigrant.

 _Bad luck and arrogance. Most of them were in Hiroshima and didn't believe that the warnings the Americans gave applied to them. The nuclear fire wasn't even slowed down by their wards._

 _So there aren't any wizards left in Asia at all?_

 _There are. India was spared any similar madness, though the caste system of magical India is far more oppressive than the mundane one and therefore not somewhere you'd want to live unless you were born at the top._

Harry decided to look into this 'caste' system that the other had mentioned. He also wondered if Padma and Parvati's parents had been born 'at the bottom' and fled the country because of it.

 _There are a number of Japanese magical families in sworn service to their Emperor. These generally live in the capital and avoided the bombs. Russia and China both still have some magicals, but these are mostly focused on keeping the mundane governments from finding the newbloods and turning them into weapons._

 _I won't tell you any horror stories about the Middle East. I'm sure you've heard about Europe's witch trials and Islam is no more tolerant of magic than Christianity or Judaism. Even less these days._

 _Why don't they tell us this?_ Harry demanded, suddenly angry that Binns just kept droning on about the Goblin Rebellions when this kind of crap was happening elsewhere in the world.

 _Like I told you, European magicals like to ignore things they find incconvenient. They don't like to think about how much the world has changed since the Statute of Secrecy was put into place. They have no idea that their precious secrecy has more holes in it than Swiss cheese._

 _What do you mean?_

 _Memory wipes worked fine until the internet was invented. Your Obliviators can wipe all the memories they want, but that video of an idiot wizard wearing a dress and waving a wand around is going to stay on Youtube. The poster's lack of memory is just going to make the whole thing even more suspicious. If the mundane governments weren't running their own damage control for their own reasons, the secret would have been blown wide open years ago._

 _I see._ Harry replied, feeling a bit shaky.

 _Anyway, you should stop posting questions that have obviously magical origins to anyone in the know. Big Brother has eyes everywhere these days. Get a good computer and learn how to do arithmantic calculations with it yourself, but keep it off the net._

 _Alright, I will._ Harry agreed. After what he'd just learned, he was not at all eager to draw any kind of attention to himself.

 _A final bit of advice for you, my young friend. Don't trust politicians; not magical ones and definitely not mundane ones. They will smile and make promises when they need something from you, but their hearts will turn to stone if you ever need their help._

 _Merry Christmas, bratan._

The connection was broken and Harry took a deep breath to take in what he'd just learned. The world suddenly seemed like a much darker place. He wondered who the man he'd just talked to really was and if he'd ever speak to him again.

A quick search on what 'bratan' actually meant only told him that he was probably Russian. Probably a wizard too, given how knowledgeable he was on the subject of Asia's magicals. Harry regretted not asking him about the situation in the rest of the world. If he had the correct feeling for the man's paranoia, then he probably wouldn't be able to contact him again in the same way. Maybe Charlus and Dorea would know something.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As it turned out, Charlus and Dorea didn't know anything.

"I never imagined that the situation in Asia was so bad." Charlus was saying. "I do remember that there was a sudden upswing in immigrants from those parts after the second World War, but I just thought it was better here than over there."

"What about America?" Harry asked, disappointed but not too surprised.

"America has always been something of a touchy subject for Britain." Dorea said with a grimace. "Magical America was a colony of ours the same as muggle America was for muggle Britain. Most of the nobility stayed here, but there were a few families that went searching for their fortunes over the Atlantic, the majority were half-bloods and muggleborns however. All of those families were killed alongside the goblins when America made its bid for independence. Losing control of all that territory to half-bloods and muggleborns would have been offensive enough for the British purebloods of the time, but it's the fact that the Gryffindor line was also snuffed out there that people are really unable to get over."

"I'll bet it is." Harry snorted. He'd already seen how fixated people could be on their bloodlines. Having the Gryffindor family wiped out by rebellious commoners would have the purebloods baying for blood now, much less a couple of hundred years ago when their sense of entitlement was probably even worse.

"Don't expect a warm welcome if you ever decide to visit there." Charlus warned. "I expect that there is no shortage of American wizards that would make themselves your enemies simply for being British, nevermind the fact that you're the heir of a Noble House."

"I'll keep it in mind." Harry agreed, having actually been considering a trip across the sea. "How about Australia then? Can I expect a warm welcome there?"

Dorea's lip twitched at her grandson's dry sarcasm as her husband answered.

"Hard to say. The magical community there is actually the youngest in the world, having only formed properly just before the turn of the twentieth century. The old families thought that the muggles had a grand idea about using Australia as a penal colony, only in our case it was seen as a dumping ground for squibs and the occasional problematic-but-not-criminal wizard. All that dormant magical blood eventually began producing wizards and witches that established their own community." Charlus explained.

"So they're probably resentful but not as hostile as America." Harry concluded.

"I also suspect that the Wizengamot is very quietly terrified of them." Dorea added.

"Why?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"A lot of families have died out since the practice of exiling squibs was put into place, Harry." She explained. "There are likely quite a few wizards and witches in Australia that are now able to claim Lordships of those families. If they decided to do so, they could wield considerable influence in the Wizengamot."

"And the Wizengamot couldn't stop them because the seats are hereditary." He finished, unable to keep from snickering as he realized the full extent of the quandary the purebloods had created for themselves. Australia was filled with an unknown number of potential Wizengamot Lords, none of which were purebloods by their definition or even British.

The Australians could, theoretically, claim all of those lordships and paralyze the legislative body of Wizarding Britain out of sheer spite.

"This is going to be your problem too one day." Dorea told him pointedly. "You do, after all, have a seat of your own on the Wizengamot."

"Fuck the Wizengamot." Harry replied succintly. He had no intention whatsoever of playing the politician. There was so much to see in the world that sitting in a stuffy room and arguing with the inbred social elite of magical Britain held no appeal.

"Harry, language." Dorea scolded.

Harry snickered some more at the absurdity of being scolded by his furniture. It had stung to realize that the portraits of his grandparents were still just portraits at the end of the day, not real people. They were an incredible bit of spellwork to be sure, but anyone that spent enough time talking to a magical portrait eventually realized that they had a limited range of personality and couldn't really adapt to change.

"Leave the lad be, Dorea." Charlus told his wife, grinning openly. "It's not like I haven't thought the same thing every time I had to attend a meeting."

"It's unseemly for the heir of a Noble House to be so crass." Dorea sniffed.

Harry rolled his eyes. He suspected that he would end up doing a lot of things that were unseemly for the heir of a Noble House. He had built up quite a bit of disdain for 'proper' behavior after having to deal with Robert and Katherine since he was seven.

"Anyway, I wanted to get your thoughts on my next ritual..."

He explained to them the runes he intended to use and the effect he was going for. It was one that he was particularly excited to try, as it would work to increase the size of his magical core and make him more powerful over time in the same way that his first set made accelerated his maturity.

Unfortunately, he quickly hit a snag.

"Harry, you can't do this ritual." Charlus said, exasperation coloring his tone.

"Why not?" Harry near demanded. It was perfect! He knew it was.

"Because there is no such thing as a 'magical core'." Charlus explained.

"But my research..." Harry started.

"Yes, I know you've come across the term in your research." The portrait cut him off. "The term 'magical core' is frequently used to describe a wizard's unused, latent magic, but it is terribly misleading. It gives the impression that wizards and witches are born with different sized pools of magic inside their bodies, but that simply isn't the case. Exceptional people make for exceptional magic users, but I guarantee you that any shopkeeper in Diagon Alley has the same magical potential as Dumbledore."

"How does that make any sense?" Harry asked, baffled.

"The exact mechanics of it aren't known to anyone except _maybe_ the Unspeakables, but the gist of it is that people with high willpower, intelligence and a number of other personality traits will also have more powerful magic, whereas simpletons and cowards will invariably be weak. That's why people under great emotional duress can sometimes perform feats of magic far above their usual ability and why there is no such thing as a power enhancing ritual."

Harry rubbed the back of his head, feeling the outline of _Da'Roir_ , the rune that was meant to enhance his willpower. If what Charlus was saying was correct, then it would certainly explain why his memory was noticeably improved with the rune, but the willpower enhancement had always been something he hadn't been sure if it had even worked.

"Why does everyone seem to think that power levels are inborn then?" He asked.

"I suspect it makes them feel better to think that the powerful have an inborn advantage." Charlus shrugged.

Harry snorted. That sounded about right.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

With his plans to do a power enhancing ritual foiled, Harry tried to put together a different one, having wanted to carve a new set of runes into his flesh over the holidays.

Unfortunately, with the internet denied to him as a resource, he simply wasn't good enough with arithmancy to put together a ritual. Not yet. Charlus had taken the subject when he'd been going to Hogwarts, but it had decades since the last time he'd made use of that knowledge and he was more than a little rusty. Neither he nor Harry were willing to chance something going wrong due to impatience.

Though disgruntled by the need to put off any further rituals, Harry relented. He did however make a resolution to buy himself a high end laptop for that kind of thing. It probably wouldn't work under the wards of the manor, not to mention the lack of electricity or Wi-Fi, but he could always camp out somewhere in London if he needed to.

He would have completely forgotten about Christmas if Teeny, Charlus and Dorea hadn't reminded him.

Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but he had actual friends now. Friends for which he had no idea what kind of presents to buy.

After a good bit of headscratching, he decided to keep it simple. He had no better ideas and he didn't want to encourage Ginny's crush.

Seeing as both of them were completely wizard-raised, he figured that getting them something non-magical might count as a novelty.

Luna got a book, more specifically Alice in Wonderland. Talking to her frequently made him question which rabbit hole he'd dropped into and he was also curious what she'd make of the book.

Ginny was a lot more problematic to buy something for, to the extent that he started wondering if sending her a small bag of galleons would be considered rude.

Christmas was so much less complicated when you didn't have friends.

Eventually he gave up on finding something that seemed like a good idea and got her a flower themed hairband that the sales lady had assured him would go well with red hair. He _really_ hoped that she wouldn't take it as a declaration of romantic interest.

He also got both of them a large bag of potato chips, mostly as a silent protest to the lack of salty junk food in the Wizarding World.

He spent most of Christmas day wondering what they would get him and felt more stung than he'd expected to be when no owls showed up. Charlus, Dorea and even Teeny did their best to keep his mind off the fact that his supposed friends had apparently decided not to bother sending him any presents for Christmas, but he still ended up being a bit more surly than normal.

By the time the holidays were over, he'd mostly cooled off, but he was still determined to give both Luna and Ginny a hard time over it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Here is the freshest chapter. Enjoy xD.**

 **Special thanks to Joe Lawyer and his mad pre-reviewing skillz.**

XXXXX

"Hello Harry." Luna greeted as she opened the compartment door.

"Hi." The boy said back, a bit more subdued as he once again recalled the lack of presents on Christmas. It wasn't really so much about the presents as it was about the gesture of it.

He didn't have long to mope about it though, as Luna got right in his face and peered at him in a most unnerving fashion.

"What are you doing?" He asked, leaning back into the seat in an attempt to avoid the scrutiny.

"I'm trying to see what you did to yourself to give my owl such a terrible wrackspurt infestation." Luna replied absently.

"Your owl has...wrackspurts?" He asked, recalling that this was Luna-speak for confusion.

"Oh yes, I've never seen anything like it and neither has daddy. I tried to send you your Christmas present, but the poor thing just flew in circles for a while and then came back." She explained.

"Really?" Harry asked in surprise. That would certainly explain why he hadn't gotten any presents, but it opened up an entirely new set of questions.

It _could_ have been Dobby making a reappearance, but he didn't think so. The house elf had said that he'd tried to intercept his letters, not confuse the owls.

Another – and in his mind far more likely – reason for the strange behavior of the owls was that something about _him_ was baffling them, something that prevented them from using whatever method they used to find him.

Harry was sure that it was all in his head, but he keenly felt the presence of _Arhain_ on his chest. The rune of secrecy could have conceivably done more than merely hide his scars. It wouldn't be the first time that there had been unexpected side-effects from his runes, but he had hoped that the Avariel runes would be less temperamental. He dreaded to think what he might discover about the hidden side-effects of _Aul'El_. He hadn't found any so far, but he was suddenly worried about it.

If he was right about this, then this was both good and bad. On one hand, it would make him much harder to find, but on the other, it would make owl correspondence quite problematic.

"Mhm." Luna hummed and continued her examination of him. "I had to send it to Hogwarts so that I could give it to you when we got back.

"So, how did you like the book I gave you?" Harry asked, scooting away from the blonde girl.

"I really liked it." Luna said happily, sitting down and momentarily abandoning her investigation. "It was a fascinating treatise on many strange magical creatures and events."

"A treatise...?" Harry started with incredulity and then trailed off. "Luna, you _do_ know that Alice in Wonderland is just a story, right?"

"Just because it's imaginary doesn't make it untrue." Luna agued.

"If you say so." Harry capitulated, bemused. Luna made no sense sometimes, but it was impossible to be annoyed by her. She was just too nice.

About ten minutes after that, Ginny showed up, nearly missing the train as was apparently the Weasley family tradition.

She looked much better than the last time he'd seen her. After the petrification of Mrs. Norris, Ginny had started becoming more and more sickly looking and had developed bags under her eyes. It looked like some time away from the castle and its basilisk controlling Heir of Slytherin had done her a world of good.

"Hi." She greeted quietly, self- consciously reaching up to touch the hairband that Harry had given her.

"Hello Ginny, did your owl have wrackspurts too?" Luna greeted and asked.

Ginny replied while giving the blonde a baffled expression. "What?"

"Apparently, owls can't find me for some reason." Harry translated.

"Really?" Ginny asked in surprise. "We just thought that Errol was so old that he forgot how to fly to places he'd never been to before, so we sent your presents to Hogwarts."

XXXXX

Once they got settled back into Ravenclaw tower, they discovered that one other person aside from Luna and Ginny had apparently decided to send Harry a Christmas present.

It was a small package, and mysteriously unsigned.

Harry had the irrational hope that the Headmaster or some other benefactor had decided to give him another priceless magical artefact, despite how unlikely that was.

"Open mine first!" Luna insisted, apparently excited to see his reaction to her gift.

He did so, removing the bright wrapping paper.

"Is that...a necklace of butterbeer corks?" Ginny asked in bafflement, staring at the item in question.

"Yes." Luna confirmed sagely. "It keeps away the nargles."

"Thanks." Harry said with what he hoped was a convincing smile rather than a confused one. He did recall Luna saying something about nargles being thieves, so he figured that her heart was in the right place. Besides, it was the thought that counted when gift giving during Christmas wasn't it? Which kind of made Luna's odd gift better than the randomly chosen hairband he'd gotten for Ginny.

"Daddy was going to give you a free lifetime subscription to the Quibbler as well, but that wouldn't make much sense if owls can't find you." Luna added with a frown.

"That's alright Luna, I can just borrow your copy." Harry told her, secretly relieved. From what he'd seen, the Quibbler was almost like a magical parody of a tabloid. Occasionally funny, but not something he'd want a lifetime subscription to.

"Mine now." Ginny piped up, pushing the gift into his hands.

Harry started unwrapping it, but the redhead was apparently too nervous to stay quiet about it.

"I wasn't sure what to get you, especially after you got me this beautiful hairband." She babbled, making Harry stop and stare at her.

"Ginny..."He started slowly, finally getting an inkling as to why she kept fingering the item. "That hairband is nothing special, I got it for you because I didn't know what to get you either. It's a bit nicer than average, but muggles pretty much mass produce them."

It hadn't quite dawned on him at the time he was buying it that there was no such thing as an assembly line in the Wizarding World. He wasn't sure about the food, but all of their clothes and jewelry were handmade. To someone who'd never had contact with the non-magical world, a machine produced accessory would probably look a lot more expensive than it actually was.

"Oh." Ginny blinked. "You mean there are more hairbands like this in the Muggle World?"

"Thousands, probably more." He confirmed.

Ginny felt a strange mixture of disappointed and relieved by that. On one hand, it meant that her gift wasn't going to look subpar in comparison. But on the other, it also meant that the boy she had a crush on hadn't been making a show of affection.

" _The Charmingly Charmed Book of Charms Theory_?" Harry read the title of the book he'd just unwrapped, staring in bemusement at the animated stick figures dancing energetically across the back cover. Sometimes, wizards really didn't know when to stop spelling, enchanting, jinxing, hexing or otherwise magically altering stuff.

"I know you like to read and you're really good at Charms, so I thought you'd like it."

"Thanks."

"Err...my mother also got you a present." Ginny continued reluctantly, handing him a lumpy package with even more reluctance.

Blinking, Harry took it and opened it, revealing a thick, emerald green sweater with a big golden 'H' sown into the middle.

"She made me a sweater?" He asked, baffled. That was usually the domain of grandmothers with the annoying habit of pinching cheeks from what he knew, though he had fortunately avoided that particular childhood experience.

He had to admit that it was a nice sweater though. It would no doubt be very warm, if one could ignore the embarrassment of having a giant initial plastered across the front of it.

"It's a Weasley sweater, she makes one for each of us every year. I guess she decided to make one for you this year too." Ginny explained, flushing with embarrassment at the antics of her mother.

What she didn't mention was that her mother had made Ginny one that was very similar and was obviously meant to be part of a set. She might have a crush on Harry, but her mother's unsubtle insinuation was far too embarrassing to ever see the light of day. Her matching emerald green sweater with a big gold 'G' on the front was going to stay at the bottom of her trunk until the end of time.

"That's awfully nice of her. You're lucky to have a mother that loves you so much, Ginny." Luna said with a dreamy smile.

An awkward silence followed, both Ginny and Harry being well aware that Luna's mother had died in a botched magical experiment a couple of years ago. The blonde girl was not particularly skittish about the subject, but she always became even more spaced out than usual whenever she thought back to it.

"Alright, lets see what this last one is then." Harry said with a bit of forced cheer in his voice.

Both girls were equally curious about the mystery present and leaned in closer as Harry opened it.

Ginny flushed bright red as the mystery was solved.

"Oh my, she has a very nice pair of boobies." Luna ascertained scientifically, peering at the moving magical photo with rare intensity.

Harry nodded in agreement, staring at the image of a seventh year Ravenclaw doing a little dance in a sexy nightie that was a least a size too small. A distant part of his mind noted that she'd probably bought the item in a muggle lingerie store. Either that, or the Wizarding World took the 'secret' part of Victoria's Secret literally. Most of his attention was captured by the flesh being displayed by the curvy seventeen year old with brown hair and blue eyes however, rather than where'd she'd gotten the see-through garment. His runes prickled even as the blood rushed southwards.

"Who is she?" Ginny asked, her tone accusatory and jealous despite her best efforts.

"I don't know her name." Harry answered truthfully. He _did_ know however, that she was one of the girls that had caught him staring and had raised her eyebrows at him pointedly. He'd been glad to escape being glared at at the time.

The thought that she would send him a sexy picture had never even crossed his mind as a possibility. Sometimes, life was good.

"You need to get rid of it." Ginny stated.

"That would be very rude." Luna countered before Harry could object to the redhead's declaration. "She obviously wanted Harry to have it. What if he threw away your gift? How would that make you feel?"

"It's not the same thing!" The redhead insisted, her voice rising in pitch in her desire to combat Luna's logic.

"Why not?" Luna asked cluelessly.

"Because...because it just isn't!"

"Well that's not much of an argument, is it?" Luna frowned.

"Hey look, there's a note!" Harry interjected, wanting to end the brewing argument. He was inclined to agree with Luna though. A lot of that agreement originated in the fact that her reasoning would end up with him keeping an animated photo of a sexy girl, but still.

"' _Have fun polishing your wand._ '" Luna read out. "How did she know that your wand needs polishing?"

Both Harry and Ginny flushed bright red, quickly understanding the euphemism.

"Did she find you polishing it during one of your free periods, Harry?" Luna continued.

"NO!" Harry exclaimed in a near panic with his face burning, forgetting for a moment that Luna had meant that literally. "I mean, no. I'm sure she just assumed that it...errr...needs polishing." He finished awkwardly.

How in the six hundred and sixty-six pits of the Abyss was Luna not making the connection between the sexy girl, wand polishing and masturbation, he had no idea, but he'd be damned if he was going to explain it to her.

"I could help you if you don't know the proper technique." The blonde offered innocently.

Amazingly, Harry felt the erection he'd gotten from the moving photo withering from the sheer volume of blood rushing to his face.

"That's alright, Luna. I'm sure I can do it myself." He answered painfully. A quick look at Ginny let him know that the redhead had long since lost the power of speech and would be of no help in ending this conversation.

"Are you sure? Daddy showed me how he polishes his before I left for Hogwarts you know."

Harry's face shifted from bright red to a sickly green. He knew, he _knew_ that Luna hadn't meant it that way, but there was no blocking out the mental imagery.

"I think I'm going to go lie down for a bit." He said, forcibly derailing the conversation.

"You are looking a bit peaky." Luna agreed.

XXXXX

The next morning found Harry in his room, reading the book that Ginny had given him and munching on a pre-breakfast sandwich that Blinky had brought him. The house elves were all well aware of his appetite by now and seemed to be extra fond of him for the additional work it gave them.

The book itself was actually surprisingly good in a 'Charms theory for dummies' kind of way. Granted, it _was_ meant for children ranging from eleven to fifteen in age, but Harry found it a bit simplistic after slogging through the tomes in the Restricted Section. It did provide a bit of insight into things that the more advanced tomes assumed the reader already knew however, such as a few focusing exercises for casting magic properly.

He shut the book with determination and held up a pen, focusing on his desire for the pen to levitate.

After the amount of practice he put into it, the writing implement did so easily. Then, as per the suggestion of the book, he sent it on a slow, looping glide across the room. It wasn't something he'd thought of doing before, but it was surprisingly difficult to keep it focused in a single direction instead of having it flail every which way. It was a jerky and uneven flight as he struggled to keep his focus on the multiple elements required for a smooth one, but it got easier the more he practiced.

Technically, the book said to do this with a wand, but Harry was as determined as ever to avoid looking ridiculous by waving that silly stick about. It would undoubtedly have been worlds easier, but he was rather leery of the idea of being deprived of magic by something as simple as having his wand taken away.

Also, he still hadn't been able to stop thinking of his wand as some kind of magical penis ever since last night. The act of doing magic with a wand felt kind of like giving his magic a good wanking at the moment. A minor issue really and one that would be easily ignored during classes, but it did give him a little extra incentive to master wandless magic.

A knock on the door sent his pen clattering to the floor.

"Come in." He called as he picked it up.

Ginny stuck her head inside, giving him a smile that might be classified as 'overly bright'.

"Morning." She greeted cheerily. "Want to get...breakfast? Harry, why do you have a sandwich in your room?"

"I like to have a little snack before breakfast." He defended.

"A little?" Ginny asked disbelievingly, walking up to what looked to be the remains of a considerably sized sandwich.

"I'm a growing boy." Harry simultaneously lied and told the truth.

"O...kay." Ginny conceded, having heard that one from more than one of her brothers over the years. "So, want to get breakfast?"

"I'm waiting for Luna to get up. Speaking of which, why are _you_ up already? You usually sleep in."

"I just felt like getting up early today." The redhead said a bit defensively.

"Alright." Harry shrugged and dropped the subject. It was none of his business if she wanted to change her sleeping habits.

"So, um, what did you do with...you know... _it_?" Ginny asked awkwardly, blushing madly.

Harry knew what she was talking about instantly. He was also reminded of a very interesting 'wand polishing' session during which the sexily animated girl in the magical picture had done a striptease for him.

Magic was so awesome. And perhaps his fame had some upsides to it too.

"That's none of your business." He said quckly with a heavy blush on his face, wanting to cringe as soon as he'd said it. He might as well have told her exactly what he'd been doing with that picture last night.

"Harry, you have to get rid of it." The redhead said, disapproval permeating her tone.

"Why?" He asked back, his own tone stiffening. "Luna had a point last night, the girl obviously wanted me to have it."

"It isn't right." She insisted. She'd woken up so early exactly because she didn't want Luna around to argue with her about it.

"Why?" He challenged again. No way was he giving up that picture. There was a criminal dearth of erotic material in the Wizarding World as it was. Not that he'd really looked for any, but he hadn't caught so much as a hint of it so far.

"It just isn't!" She yelled in frustration. "You shouldn't be looking at pictures of some tramp that you don't even know!"

Harry just stared at her, trying to contain the urge to yell back at her. Fortunately, he succeeded. He'd spent practically every night since the beginning of term working on his Occlumency for at least a couple of hours before he went to bed and his temper was finally becoming manageable.

He was still pretty pissed off though. He'd thought that Ginny was getting better about the stupid crush she had on him, but apparently not. He most certainly did not owe her anything and wasn't going to pander to her jealousy.

"I'll look at whatever the hell I want." He snapped.

"Fine then!" She snapped back tearfully. "Keep your thrashy picture if it's so important to you!"

With that, she stomped out, slamming the door for good measure.

"It's not about the damn picture anymore." Harry muttered to himself with a long sigh.

He hadn't been too enthused about Ginny at first, but she'd grown on him after a while. He wasn't so fond of her that he would be willing to give in to her jealous tantrums though.

XXXXX

Ginny grumbled in her sleep as a weight settled itself on her midsection.

Then she batted her hands at whatever was poking her in the cheek.

"Psst! Ginny. Wake up."

The combination of irritating pokes and the voice brought the redhead out of slumber, causing her eyes to slowly open.

And see the form of Luna sitting on her stomach, smiling at her. The gloom, combined with Ginny's sleep addled mind, made her look very creepy.

Naturally, Ginny screamed.

"Hello." Luna chirped, apparently unperturbed.

"Luna?" Ginny hissed, voice heavy with incredulity. "What are you doing here?!"

"I seem to be sitting on your stomach." The blonde answered in all seriousness.

"Why?!"

"I needed to talk to you and you've been avoiding me and Harry all day."

"And why do you need to talk to me so badly." The redhead grumbled sourly, reminded of the blow-up she'd had with Harry in the morning. His obvious determination to keep hold of that slutty photo had put a serious hole in her image of the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Because you've been avoiding me and Harry all day. I want to know why so that I can fix it and we can all be friends again."

Ginny sighed in resignation and slumped back into the bed. "Could you get off me now?"

"I could." Despite saying that, Luna made no move to actually do so.

"Luna, get off."

"Okay."

The blonde clambered off the redhead and settled herself on the mattress. An awkward silence ensued for a while as Luna waited for Ginny to say something, while Ginny didn't know what to say.

"It's about that naughty picture isn't it?" Luna asked shrewdly after a few minutes of silence.

"Yes!" Ginny cried out. "I just don't understand why he wants to keep it so badly."

"She has very nice boobies." Luna reasoned.

"But he's the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"Yes, and boys like boobies."

Ginny spluttered incomprehensibly for a moment, flustered by the utter certainty of Luna's replies.

"But he's a hero! He should find his true love, not...not...stare at a dirty picture that some tramp sent him!"

Luna peered at her closely for a few seconds before replying. "Didn't your parents tell you that boys are more interested in boobies than true love? Daddy told me that the day before I left for Hogwarts."

Ginny flushed in embarrassment. No, they hadn't told her that, but she had heard more than one outraged rant from her mother when she'd found a dirty magazine in Fred and George's room. They must have somehow gotten it from the Muggle World if their mother's rants about the indecency of muggle women was anything to go by.

"But he's not just any boy." She protested weakly.

"But he _is_ a boy, so he must like boobies." Luna insisted. "We can ask him tomorrow if you want to make sure."

"No!" Ginny blurted out, blushing again.

Another few minutes passed in silence, a more comfortable one this time.

"Do you think he'd like my boobies?" The redhead asked eventually, her voice barely audible.

"You don't have any boobies." The blonde trespasser informed her bluntly.

Ginny slumped into herself.

"But don't worry, Harry doesn't seem to be picky about what kind of boobies he likes. He spends a large part of his mealtimes looking at all the ones he can see, so I'm sure that he'll like ours once they grow."

That wasn't really what Ginny wanted to hear. Being just another pair of breasts for Harry Potter's viewing pleasure was a far cry from her dreams of a happily ever after with the Boy-Who-Lived.

XXXXX

A few weeks passed mostly uneventfully. Ginny became progressively more withdrawn, but Harry didn't press her on it, figuring that it was just a consequence of their argument. Luna did try, but was fended off by assurances that she was just tired.

Then the routine was interrupted by another attack, but there was no petrification this time. This time, Terry Boot was found dead in the hallways.

XXXXX

"The Ministry arrested _Hagrid_?" Harry asked incredulously.

They were in his room, as it had become a sort of unspoken private spot for them. They couldn't use one of the girls' rooms because they had an alarm attached to them if a boy tried to enter them. The reverse did not apply for some reason.

"Yes, he was the one to get blamed when the Chamber of Secrets was opened the last time, fifty years ago." Luna confirmed sadly. She liked Hagrid.

"That doesn't even make sense!" Harry said in exasperation. "If they're running on the assumption that Slytherin's Heir hates muggleborns, Hagrid is hardly likely to be the culprit."

"The Ministry doesn't often make sense."

Harry snorted. That sounded about right.

"There's even talk about Dumbledore being relieved of his post as Hogwarts Headmaster and closing down the school." Luna continued. "It's almost exactly like it happened fifty years ago."

"It was me!" Ginny suddenly cried out, her face deathly pale.

"What was you?" Harry asked slowly, staring at the near frantic redhead. She'd been trembling pretty much since Boot was found dead.

"I was the one who opened the Chamber!" She blurted out. "I mean...I think it was me. I blacked out again and then Terry was dead and now Hagrid got arrested..."

"Ginny, slow down!" Harry cut off her babbling, more than a little alarmed. "I think you'd better start from the beginning."

So she did. She laid out pretty much everything from the mysteriously appearing diary of one T. M. Riddle and how it would talk back to her and even show her its memories, to her blackouts and how they always happened during an attack.

"A Tom Riddle was credited as 'exposing' Hagrid the first time." Luna said contemplatively. She had looked into it with her father during the holidays.

"Ginny, could you show us this diary?" Harry requested, getting a terrible suspicion about the item. Simple spellwork wouldn't be enough to make a diary interactive to that degree.

Ginny agreed and shuffled off to her own room to get her bag, coming back a minute later.

As soon as she handed it to him, he felt the insane urge to write something into it despite what Ginny had just told him. He was more than wary enough of it to immediately think of a compulsion charm though, so he resisted. If the diary was a phylactery as he suspected, then writing into it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Now the only thing left to do was decide what to do with it. Something obviously had to be done, but none of them had any idea how it would affect Ginny if it was either destroyed or left intact.

As much as he didn't trust the old man anymore, Harry reluctantly concluded that he would have to talk to Dumbledore about this.

XXXXX

"Professor Flitwick has informed me that you had an urgent matter you needed to discuss with me?" Dumbledore prompted.

Harry nodded, still unsure of the wisdom in going to Dumbledore with this.

Looking around the room, it was obvious that the rumors of the old wizard getting sacked were true. He had been in the middle of packing his possessions and there was an air of sorrow about him. Even Fawkes was looking a bit dispirited.

"I think I might know what's been going on with this whole Chamber of Secrets thing." He admitted at last, seeing no alternative but to rely on the Headmaster for help in dealing with the problem.

Dumbledore sat up, suddenly looking far more intense than before.

"Then by all means, tell me."

It was presented like a gentle prompt, but the sudden pressure of Dumbledore's magic made it an order.

Harry swallowed, this was the first time that he'd felt another wizard's magic pressing against his own. It gave the old man an aura of power and authority that no amount of grandfatherly twinkling could hope to hide.

"I'd like to ask you something first." He ventured, continuing when the Headmaster gave him a nod to go ahead. "Is it possible for a wizard to make a phylactery?"

Dumbledore frowned, puzzled. The term was unfamiliar to him, but the level of nervousness he could see the boy across him exuding at the question gave it an ominous weight.

"What is a phylactery?"

"An item in which an evil magic user might hide their soul in to achieve a form of immortality, a soul jar in other words."

Dumbledore could feel his insides going cold at the explanation. How was it possible for the twelve year old boy to know of such dark magics? He was certain that he had purged the Hogwarts Library of any mention of Horcruxes.

"Where did you learn of such things?" He demanded, forgetting his grandfatherly persona for a moment. Harry simply couldn't be allowed to turn evil. The Wizarding World would never survive a struggle between Voldemort and another rising Dark Lord, especially one as powerful as Harry was looking to become.

Harry sank deeper into his chair as Dumbledore's presence swelled further. He tried to apply his nascent knowledge of Occlumency to control his fear, but it was hard. The old wizard was so much stronger than him.

"It's a common theme in muggle fantasy fiction." He explained with far too much squeak in his voice for his taste. "An evil wizard sacrificing his humanity in exchange for power and immortality."

Dumbledore blinked and slowly settled down, aided by a calming song from Fawkes that was probably meant for both wizards.

Muggles had conceived the idea of Horcruxes, all the while believing that magic didn't exist? Or had some whispers of the foul creations survived among them from the times before the Statute of Secrecy? It didn't matter he supposed, what mattered was that Harry had seen fit to come to him to ask about it. While the fact that he even knew that it was possible to make a Horcrux was not at all a good thing, it was heartening that the boy had come to him with this. Dark wizards did not in general come to him for advice on how to perform evil magic.

"Am I to take it then that you believe such a object to be behind this year's troubles?" He asked, his mind already making connections. The last Heir of Slytherin had been Voldemort and a Horcrux of the man would certainly be capable of possessing a student and repeating what had happened fifty years ago.

Harry nodded and drew a thin book out of the Mokeskin Pouch that Dumbledore had noticed he always kept at his waist.

The book was placed on the desk, helpfully signed 'T. M. Riddle' as if to confirm his suspicions.

Just to be sure, Dumbledore cast a few diagnostic charms over the diary even though he already knew what they would tell him. Indeed, the thin book was a cesspit of corrupt magic.

"You have done a great thing to bring this to me, Harry." He said eventually.

He meant it too. Now he _finally_ had confirmation that Voldemort had indeed created Horcruxes. He had only been able to speculate before this. Though the Dark Lord's soul was no doubt a shattered and mangled thing from the abuse he'd put it through with his evil acts, a piece of it would not simply fly off and attach itself to Harry's forehead unless there was something more going on.

The diary must have been created while Tom Riddle was still in school and knowing him as Dumbledore did, he doubted that Voldemort would have been satisfied with just a single Horcrux despite the consequences of creating them.

"How did you come to posses this?"

Harry did his best not to squirm. This was the part that he had really been hoping to avoid, but knew he couldn't. He didn't want to land Ginny in hot water, but he had little doubt that the Ministry wouldn't care about her being possessed if they could imprison Hagrid on evidence so flimsy that it was practically non-existent.

"A student had it." He evaded.

"Ms. Lovegood or Ms. Weasley? Ah, Ms. Weasley." Dumbledore said, taking his cues from Harry's expression and body language.

"She didn't even know it was her." Harry hastened to explain. "She just kept blacking out and guessed that it might be. There's also a compulsion on the diary that was manipulating her to do it and keep quiet."

"I know, Harry." Dumbledore interjected, making a calming motion with his hand. "This is a cursed object left behind by Voldemort and an eleven year old can hardly be expected to perceive it for what it is. No blame shall fall on young Ms. Weasley."

"You'll forgive me if I don't believe the Ministry will be that reasonable." Harry replied cynically.

Dumbledore gave a short sigh at the unfortunate truth of that. Cornelius had not listened to his protestations of Hagrid's innocence, wanting to be seen 'doing something', so it was quite likely that he'd jump on poor Ginny as if she were Voldemort himself. A helpless, eleven year old Voldemort of course. Cornelius had regrettably never been brave enough to actually do something as dangerous as act against a real threat.

"You needn't worry Harry, I will handle the Ministry."

They had no time to deal with that right now however, as the current situation had to be resolved quickly before the Ministry did anything _else_ unutterably stupid, such as offering Lockhart the position of Hogwarts Headmaster. Triumphing over Slytherin's basilisk and revealing that it was a cursed object at work would be enough to restore his reputation and reclaim his position.

Not that he had any intention of actually _fighting_ the basilisk. The ancient serpent's hide would be obscenely magic resistant by now, not to mention its powerful Killing Gaze. A quick apparition to grab a rooster would be the most he planned to exert himself.

That just left the problem of gaining access to the Chamber of Secrets. He'd found it some time ago after learning that he was dealing with a basilisk, but had been unable to open the path. The barrier in Myrtle's bathroom was linked to the wards, but not even the Headmaster could open them. No doubt it would take a Parselmouth.

"I realize that you have done much already Harry, but I find myself in a position where I am forced to ask you to do a little more."

"For example?" Harry asked warily.

"I have discovered where the Chamber of Secrets is, but it takes a Parselmouth to open it." Dumbledore explained and continued before Harry could say anything. "Know that you will be in minimal danger and that I have no intention of engaging the basilisk in battle."

"Couldn't we just leave it alone?" Harry questioned. "I mean, we have the diary. If we destroy it, then there won't be anyone left to open it."

"I left the mystery alone fifty years ago and it has resulted in the current situation." Dumbledore said sorrowfully. "I would rather not risk history repeating itself a third time."

He would also probably not regain his position as Headmaster without some significant achievement. The glory of Grindelwald's defeat that had carried him through the last time was much more distant now, nor had he been Headmaster the last time.

XXXXX

"You know, I'm not sure we could make a less epic start to the slaying of a powerful monster if we tried." Harry grumbled as he walked into the girl's bathroom behind Dumbledore, a live rooster in his hands.

"How so, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, amused in spite of the dire situation.

"You're wearing bright yellow robes, I'm carrying a chicken, and we're going into a girl's bathroom." The boy replied dryly.

"Rooster." The much older wizard corrected.

"It sounds like the start of a dirty joke." Harry continued, ignoring the correction. "'A boy walks into a girl's bathroom holding an old man's cock.'"

Dumbledore stopped and looked at his student strangely before finally speaking. "I presume that this is Ms. Lovegood's influence?"

"It _would_ be something she'd say, isn't it?" Harry admitted with a slight blush.

Luna would probably be entirely clueless about the sexual connotations though. Or at least she'd be pretending to be clueless. Harry wasn't sure yet whether his blonde friend was really as oblivious as she acted.

"Indeed. Her father was, and I presume still is, the same."

"Why _are_ we in a girl's bathroom anyway?"

"I have been able to deduce that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is in here, by the sinks."

"Salazar Slytherin put the entrance to his Chamber of Secrets in a _girl's bathroom_?" Harry asked incredulously.

"It would appear so."

"He was either very cunning or a pedophile."

"The truth is a wonderful and terrible thing and probably best left unknown in this case." Dumbledore said, gesturing towards the sink with the snake carving. "Command it to open in Parseltongue if you would, Harry."

Harry focused on the image of a snake in his mind just like he'd practiced and spoke. " _Open!_ "

The circular array of sinks separated and revealed a long tunnel into the dark.

Harry peered into the depths, a question forming in his mind.

"If you knew the entrance was here, why didn't you simply blast it open?"

"Alas, magic is rarely so straightforward." Dumbledore explained. "Had I done so, all I would have to show for it is a ruined bathroom and no secret entrance."

The only reason he hadn't asked Harry for help sooner was a desire to not involve the boy in such a dangerous matter. Unfortunately, his caution had availed him nothing save to place the death of another student on his conscience.

"I will ask you to go no further Harry, but there may be other Parseltongue locked doors in the Chamber." He said, looking down at the boy.

"Let's just get this over with." Harry sighed, staring down into the dark hole.

Moaning Myrtle chose this moment to pop out of her preferred cubicle.

"If you die down there, you can share my toilet." She offered.

"Thank you Myrtle, that is most generous of you." Dumbledore said and jumped into the hole.

Given the choice between a creepily giggling ghost and a dark hole leading to one of the most dangerous monsters in the magical world, Harry swiftly followed.

XXXXX

Harry slid out of the tunnel after a fairly exhilirating ride, shoes crunching on the bones of countless small animals.

"Well this isn't creepy at all." He muttered sarcastically.

"Quite," Dumbledore agreed, quickly casting a few cleaning charms to remove the filth they'd picked up during their slide. "Come Harry, but be cautious. If you see or hear anything, shut your eyes."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Harry agreed and followed the old wizard deeper into the chamber.

It didn't take them long to come across a massive discarded snake skin.

"It is even larger than I thought." Dumbledore said, shaking his head.

"Do all basilisks get this big?" Harry asked, staring at the skin with wide eyes. He hugged the rooster a bit more tightly, knowing that it was the key to this mad venture.

"There has never been a record of a basilisk living this long." Dumbledore explained. "I suspect that they never stop growing."

They moved on and reached another Parseltongue sealed door, beyond which lay the Chamber proper.

"This guy really had a thing for snakes." Harry observed, noting the many serpent statues lining the walkway.

"Indeed." Dumbledore agreed and gestured for Harry to give him the rooster. "The basilisk must be very close now, would you be so kind as to give me back my cock now?"

Harry gave a nervous chuckle as he did so, recognizing the humour for what it was, an attempt to relieve some tension.

They stalked forward slowly, Dumbledore keeping his wand trained on the rooster held in his other hand, ready to compell it to crow at a moment's notice.

"Professor, I just had a thought." Harry said quietly.

"Yes, Harry?"

"The crow of a rooster seems like an awfully specific vulnerability, not really something likely to occur naturally."

"You would not be the first to wonder about that. Despite logic indicating otherwise, that particular weakness is not bred into the creatures deliberately. Rather, it is a result of the nature of its hatching. Something about the process makes a rooster's crow resonate fatally with the basilisk's own magic." Dumbledore lectured.

"So there's no chance of it being immune then?" Harry asked, much relieved.

"No Harry, you can rest assured that my cock is stronger than Slytherin's snake." The old wizard assured, beard twitching with his smile.

Harry snorted in amusement. He might be wary of Dumbledore and the manipulative streak that his grandparents had warned him of, but at least he had a sense of humour.

" _Intruders in the nest? Not the master. Food? So hungry. Smells good._ "

The hiss resonated across the chamber, too low for human hearing but perfectly audible to a Parselmouth.

And also to the rooster, which squawked in reply.

The hissing stopped for a moment before returning with a vengeance.

" _BIRD BIRD BIRD!_ _SERPENT KILLER. NO NO NO NO, WON'T DIE. CAN'T RUN. NOWHERE TO RUN. MUST KILL!_ "

"Get ready!" Harry called urgently, alarmed by the half-mad rambling of the basilisk. "It's coming right at us!"

Dumbledore nodded, hearing the rapid movement of the enourmous snake through the tunnels built into the sides of the Chamber. He waited only a moment longer before casting a compulsion on the rooster and forcing it to crow.

The basilisk let out a hissing roar as the crowing echoed through the Chamber before smashing heavily into the ground off to the side, also making a large splash in the shallow water.

Harry and Dumbledore waited tensely for any sign that the basilisk was still alive. A full minute passed before they relaxed and started moving warily towards the place where they'd heard the crash.

"Do not look it in the eyes, they may still have some power even in death." Dumbledore warned.

"Got it." Harry acknowledged.

They found the massive carcass quickly enough, looking more like a dark grey rock formation than a snake.

"I guess that's it then." Harry said, still jittery with nerves from the oddly anti-climatic finish.

"Almost, there is one more thing to do." Dumbledore said as he handed the rooster back to Harry and drew out the diary.

"What are you going to do with that?" Harry asked.

"Aside from being incredibly potent, basilisk venom is also known to have a corrosive effect on magic. If my guess is correct, it should have the ability to destroy Voldemort's diary." Dumbledore explained.

It would also save him a great deal of questions from the Ministry about unauthorized uses of Fiendfyre.

Harry said nothing and simply watched as the much older wizard approached the basilisk's mouth, taking care not to look at the eyes. With a wave of his wand, he forced open the massive jaw, revealing a mouth full of fangs instead of the usual toothless mouth of a snake. With a quick _Accio_ , one of the fangs was pulled out and driven through the diary. The wail released by the booklet was confirmation that the Horcrux was destroyed.

"What about the basilisk?" Harry asked once it was done, the whole thing once again feeling very anti-climatic. He hadn't expected that prophecy to be resolved quite so...neatly.

"What of it?" Dumbledore blinked, oblivious to the fact that Harry had just assumed that Voldemort was finished once and for all.

"Could we sell it?"

Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully. He'd been so focused on killing the beast and regaining his position as Headmaster that he hadn't thought of it, but the boy definitely had a point. For a basilisk of this size and age, half the Potion Masters and magical leatherworkers in Europe would beggar themselves before it was completely harvested and sold, which was a process likely to take several years. The eyes alone would net an astronomical sum.

Hogwarts could certainly use the funding, not to mention the Order of the Phoenix in the event that Voldemort's return proved impossible to prevent. It would make it easier to regain his Headmaster position if he came bearing gifts.

"An excellent point, Harry." He said.

"You said that the hide is magic resistant?" Harry asked speculatively, eyeballing the craggy dark grey scales. He rather liked the color.

"Extremely so." Dumbledore confirmed.

"I've heard about dragonhide robes, would it be possible to make them out of basilisk hide?"

"It would. They would not be as impact resistant as dragonhide, but they would be much more magic resistant."

"I'll claim enough of its hide to make a few adult sized sets then and samples of any useful ingredients harvested if I ever decide to make use of them, such as the venom. The rest of it we can sell. I'm assuming that my share can easily be delivered to my Gringotts vault?"

"Your share?" Dumbledore echoed, surprised by the mercenary statement.

"Of course, 50%. You found the Chamber, but I opened it and neither one of us can really claim to have done the lion's share of the work since we killed the bloody thing with a rooster. You get to take whatever you want from the carcass before we sell it of course, what with both of us having equal claim to the body." Harry continued happily.

"There is more to life than galleons, Harry." The old wizard sighed, disappointed by the decidedly unheroic greed that the boy was displaying right now.

"And all those other things in life will be much easier _with_ galleons than without them." Harry countered. After getting ripped off by the goblins that first time, he was no longer willing to let easy profit slip through his fingers. "You didn't think I was going to hold your cock for free, did you?"

"I...very well." Dumbledore capitulated and shook his head with a weak smile at the joke. He couldn't afford to alienate the boy over something so trivial, especially when he was entitled by law to claim a share due to his aid in slaying the beast.

XXXXX

"If I may have your attention, please." Dumbledore said just before the evening meal that very same day.

The Great Hall quieted and turned its attention to him curiously.

"I know that the year has been difficult, filled with fear and sorrow, but now it is over. Earlier in the day, Harry Potter and myself have at last unraveled the mystery behind the Chamber of Secrets."

The student body burst into excited murmurs for a moment before settling down again to listen to the old Headmaster.

"The mythical monster said to be hidden in the Chamber was a basilisk, whose lair was most cleverly hidden. Mr. Potter and myself found it and ventured into the Chamber this very morning, slaying the beast in its lair."

"But who was the Heir?" Someone yelled out.

"Voldemort." He replied, resisting the urge to sigh as practically everyone in the Great Hall flinched, yelped, screamed or otherwise displayed an unseemly level of fear over a name. "A cursed object he had left behind had possessed a student and forced them to open the Chamber. The name of the student in question will remain secret unless they wish to inform you themselves."

Another bout of murmuring spread through the students, this time speculation on the identity of the possessed party.

"Additionally, for the next few days Hogwarts will be hosting several wizards and witches specializing in the harvesting of large magical animals. I request that you do not get in their way. That will be all from me right now, thank you."

That should do the trick. The legend of the Boy-Who-Lived would grow, as would the enmity between him and Voldemort. His own involvement and connection to Harry would ensure that he would be able to retain his position as Headmaster without any overt difficulty.

Lucius Malfoy would no doubt try to protest, but Dumbledore knew how to handle Lucius.

It truly was unfortunate that the re-opening of the Chamber had resulted in another death, but he had not dared to close the school. The then-unknown Heir of Slytherin would have been set loose on the world in that case. Terry Boot's death was unfortunate, but it was better than the many other deaths that a resurrected sixteen year old Voldemort would have caused.

XXXXX

Harry, Luna and Ginny had almost made it up the first flight of stairs towards Ravenclaw tower before they were halted.

"Potter!"

Harry's face twitched with irritation at the sound of Draco Malfoy's outraged yell. _Of course_ the blond idiot would take offense to having the attacks on muggleborns ended. Why had he even entertained the idea that Malfoy might be clever enough to be less obvious about his prejudices?

Turning around, the three of them saw the huffing and puffing second year stomping up the stairs, no doubt intending to get in Harry's face about his part in putting an end to the whole debacle.

Harry had no desire to deal with the idiot, so he focused his will and launched a weak, wandless banishing spell at Malfoy's leg.

The leg was thrown back, completely destroying the blond's footing and sending him crashing face first into the stairs. He managed to catch himself with his hands before he actually got hurt, unfortunately.

"Maybe you should learn to walk on even ground before trying to tackle stairs, Malfoy." Harry mocked, taking an inordinate amount of glee in the blond's humiliation. He'd been insufferable ever since Halloween. More insufferable than normal at any rate.

"You tripped me!" Malfoy accused angrily.

"With what?" Harry asked sarcastically, raising his hands to show that they were empty. "My mastery of wandless magic?"

There were some giggles from a few students who'd seen the whole thing, causing Draco to flush in angry humiliation.

Shaking his head in exasperation, Harry restarted his speedy retreat to his room. He had no doubt that everyone and their mother would want to know the whole story and he wasn't sure that his reputation for being unapproachable was going to be a sufficient shield.

XXXXX

Harry closed the door to his room with a feeling of relief.

What in the bloody fucking hell had Dumbledore been thinking, announcing that to the entire school? He'd felt like a germ under a microscope with the way that people had stared at him all the way through dinner. Luna and Ginny's stares had been the worst, silently willing him to explain. At least he hadn't said anything about sending Moldywarts off to his final death with the destruction of the phylactery.

Was this supposed to be some kind of payback for the 50% share of the profits on the sale of the carcass he'd claimed?

His stewing was interrupted by an insistent knocking on his door.

Harry sighed, knowing exactly who was on the other side.

Resigned he opened the door and was placed into bewilderment as a tiny redhead grabbed him in a tight hug.

"Thank you." She mumbled.

"You're, uh, welcome." Harry replied with an akward pat on the back. Ginny had been a bit twitchy ever since he'd taken the diary away from her, so he could guess that its destruction had helped her somehow, but he still had no idea how to deal with this.

"Did you really have to kill that poor, lonely basilisk, Harry?" Luna asked sadly.

"It was going to eat us." He said dryly, recalling the creature's mutterings before it had detected the rooster.

"Oh poo, and I so wanted a basilisk friend."

Ginny finally let go at that point, looking up at him curiously despite her blush. "How did you even kill it?"

"Dumbledore got a rooster from somewhere. It wasn't as dangerous as he made it sound."

"Could I have an interview, Harry?" Luna asked excitedly, her previous dismay over the serpent's death forgotten. "Daddy is sure to want to write an article about how you and Headmaster Dumbledore used your cock to slay Slytherin's ancient snake."

Harry turned his eyes skyward with a sigh, somehow not even surprised that Luna had once again managed to be so innocently crass. He'd been expecting it really.

XXXXX

 _February 14th_

Harry had barely left his room for the whole day, rightly fearing the level of attention he would get on this day.

Ginny had been acting extra weird for the past few days. No doubt she'd be upset about his refusal to even show his face on what was supposedly the most romantic day of the year, but that was her own problem. Her crush had somehow managed to become both better and worse after the diary situation was resolved.

Better, because she was less obvious about it most of the time and worse because it had apparently solidified into some kind of emotional jawbreaker. He rather thought that the girl needed counseling to deal with the fact that her body had been used to kill someone, but the Wizarding World had apparently never heard of psychiatry. Instead, Ginny seemed to have convinced herself that everything would be fine as long as he was there. Seeing as his paricipation in destroying the phylactery had been minimal, this belief seemed a tad unjustified to Harry.

Ginny was just going to have to learn how to deal with the disappointment, because he simply had no romantic interest in her and didn't see that changing. Her bouts of sullen jealousy were even starting to put a strain on their friendship despite Luna's best efforts at playing the intermediary.

The cause of much of this jealousy was his continued interest in the older girls, especially the one who had sent him that picture.

He didn't even know her name, but he had trouble looking her in the eye. Ever since Dumbledore's announcement, she'd been prone to winking at him whenever she caught him looking at her. She clearly had no trouble with her self-confidence, but Harry had no idea how to deal with it, so he tended to just blush in embarrassment.

His rune enhanced libido made him want to talk to her and see what happened, but he _was_ still twelve. Talking to a seventeen year old girl that had given him a naughty picture was way outside of his comfort zone.

Either way, he had dreaded Valentine's day and decided to avoid any embarrassing situations by keeping himself locked up in his room.

He'd spent most of the day eating the steady stream of snacks provided by the house elves and meditating.

According to the book he'd found there were two ways to learn Occlumency. The quick way and the slow way.

The quick way involved getting a skilled Legilimancer to brutally and repeatedly violate your mind until you developed an instinctive defensive reaction and threw the invader out of your mind.

Aside from _Aul'El_ preventing this approach, Harry had not been overly keen on the idea even if he could have found someone to do this to him. It sounded incredibly unpleasant and wouldn't even help to achieve his goals. He didn't need to train his subconscious into a viciously territorial attack dog, he needed to tame it.

The slow way involved a lot of sitting still and trying to clear your thoughts.

Harry had been at it for months and would have long since given up if he didn't know that there was a point to it.

The meditation had helped to control his angry outbursts to some degree, but so far he hadn't managed to sink into the trance-like state that the book had described.

Until now that was.

After hours of struggling with the concept of 'letting go', Harry had just been so _tired_ of it all.

His irritation with Ginny's crush, the embarrassment having gotten caught staring at several of the older girls, the frustrated lust of a pubescent boy that was exceedingly unlikely to get fulfilled anytime soon, the restless desire to explore magic away from the restrictions of Hogwarts and the Ministry, the impatience at his slow progress with wandless magic, the yearning to perform another ritual and countless other things.

In his frustration with all the messy complications of life, his mind had wandered. He'd started thinking about how ultimately pointless it all was. Humanity was just one species, on one ball of rock, orbiting one star, in one galaxy. They could all get wiped out tomorrow and the Universe wouldn't even notice.

Somewhere during his ruminations, he'd left his worldly concerns behind and begun drifting lazily through a comfortable emptiness. It was like a mental safe place where nothing could reach him.

A good twenty minutes later, Harry came out of the trance and smiled even as the ache in his lower back and the hunger in his stomach ruined the sense of peace he'd felt.

He had managed the first – and arguably the hardest – part of Occlumency.

XXXXX

 _June 2nd_

Potions class had become almost pleasant for a while after the basilisk was killed, mostly because Snape was in an ebulient mood over getting to experiment with fresh basilisk parts that Dumbledore had given him access to. Even more so when the headmaster also gave him access to phoenix tears to neutralize the venom's magic destroying properties and see what could be done with it.

It hadn't lasted long of course, as this _was_ Snape we were talking about. The dour man's relatively good cheer dissipated in about a month, returning him back to his default factory setting.

Still, Harry couldn't really complain too much about Potions. Yes, Snape was kind of a bastard and unnecessarily harsh with students, but he was still better than Binns or Lockhart. Even a bastard with no idea how to teach properly could impart some of his knowledge, whereas Binns was basically a sleeping spell given form and Lockhart would have been better served giving fashion tips in a Witch Weekly column.

The usual tense atmosphere that Snape imparted to a classroom was shattered by a disgustingly cheerful knocking.

Snape had only a moment to glare at the door and wonder which idiot thought it a good idea to interrupt his lesson before the idiot in question simply barged in.

"Good day, Professor Snape." Gilderoy Lockhart said jauntily, oblivious to the mood. "Please excuse the interruption, but I'm sure you'll understand once I've told you what this is about."

"I quiver with anticipation." Snape drawled coldly, displeasure dripping from every syllable.

It flew straight over Lockhart's head. "I've arranged for myself and Mr. Potter to have an interview with a reporter from The Daily Prophet regarding the events of the year, so I'm sure you'll see fit to excuse him from his lesson."

Snape turned his menacing black eyes on the boy in question, a string of insults and mockery already on his tongue.

"You arranged for me to have an interview without even _asking_ _my permission_?" Harry demanded with his face flushed angrily, beating Snape to the punch. "Were you born this stupid, or did it take specialized training?"

Lockhart seemed taken aback by the hostility, clearly unable to understand how anyone could be upset about being able to talk to reporters.

Snape was mildly impressed by the venom and disdain that Potter had managed to put into his retort, not that he was ever going to admit it.

"Go with him and handle this, Potter." He said instead. "I'll thank you not to let your fame intrude on my lessons in the future."

Snape observed the boy's thunderous expression with interest. This level of provocation would have resulted in an explosion earlier in the year. Albus was clearly correct. Potter _was_ practicing Occlumency.

XXXXX

" _... Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, has been receiving private tutoring from famed author and monster hunter, Gilderoy Lockhart..._ **"**

Harry fumed as he read the article that the baboon of a DADA teacher had contrived to put into the Daily Prophet.

After getting sent out of class by Snape, he'd summarily ditched Lockhart and gone to the library, leaving the fop to deal with the press himself.

Clearly, the man was so desperate to leech off his fame that he was willing to risk outright lying. Well, two could play that game.

XXXXX

 _Ministry of Magic,_

 _Depatment of Magical Law Enforcement_

 _To whom it may concern,_

 _I have recently become worried about certain goings on in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and felt that they should be brought to your attention. I have reason to suspect that the current Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, one Gilderoy Lockhart, is abusing his position of authority in order to extort sexual favors from the sixth and seventh year female students._

 _He has proven himself an inept teacher over the course of the year and many students across all seven years have stopped attending his classes. Those who remain are mostly girls, which seems suspicious to me._

 _It may be that the troubles experienced by Hogwarts earlier in the year are making me see foul deeds where there are none, but I implore you to investigate nonetheless._

 _Signed,_

 _A concerned student._

Harry finished writing the letter with a sense of vindictive satisfaction. A similar letter going out to the Daily Prophet would make sure that it _would_ be investigated even if the DMLE was initially inclined to dismiss the letter.

The reporters would tear strips out of the Ministry if such a claim wasn't investigated and they would tear strips out of Lockhart regardless simply because they were reporters.

The charges were entirely fabricated of course, but that made little difference. The media shitstorm would almost certainly cost Lockhart his job and reputation even if the man was squeaky clean(which Harry strongly doubted was the case).

That would show that pompous windbag to try using him to boost his own fame. He'd been trying to get Harry alone ever since the year started, but had redoubled his efforts since the fiasco with the basilisk. The surprise interview he'd attempted to spring had simply been the last straw.

XXXXX

"Following a brief but thorough investigation by the DMLE, Gilderoy Lockhart has been charged with numerous illegal uses of the memory charm, as well as abuse of his position as a Hogwarts Professor." Dumbledore was saying to the Great Hall.

The students launched into a flurry of murmuring, whispering and general speculation, stopping only when the Headmaster cleared his throat to once again get everyone's attention.

"As he will be spending the next sixty odd years in Azkaban, the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor is now vacant. Seeing as the school year is nearly over, there is little point in replacing him, but I am sure that you will be able to manage the remainder of your studies on your own."

There were several loud snorts at this, not all of them from the students. Anyone who had gotten anything DADA related done this year had done it on their own.

"As a final note, the Ministry would like to thank the concerned student who alerted them of this and are offering a reward if they come forth and are able to prove their identity. That is all, tuck in."

While the rest of the Great Hall once again erupted into furious conversation, Harry merely looked stunned.

The 'fabricated' charges he'd leveled at Lockhart had actually been true?

"Blimey."

XXXXX

 _Last night before the students leave._

The door to Harry Potter's room opened quietly and then closed with equal silence.

The late night intruder who had done the opening and closing padded over to the bed on silence charmed feet. There was a short rustle of cloth and then the intruder grabbed the edge of the quilt and very slowly lifted it away from the sleeping boy.

Harry had never had any reason to be a particularly light sleeper and so remained firmly unconscious.

He continued sleeping even as the bed dipped under the extra weight of another body and the quilt was pulled back over both of them.

It was only as a mildly cold hand was dragged over his ticklish abdomen that he began waking.

His thoughts were decidedly foggy for a few seconds, having stayed up fairly late because of his Occlumency practice and only slipping into a deep sleep a short while ago as a consequence, but he did eventually cotton on to the fact that his bed was rather more crowded than normal.

"Hello Harry." Said the witch who had shown such concern about the polish of his wand with her Christmas present.

"Hi." Harry replied in the cracked voice of emerging manhood. He most definitely did not squeak and anyone who said otherwise was spreading slander.

"I've seen you looking at me, Harry." She whispered into his ear hotly, rubbing one of her bare legs across his.

"Uhm, sorry?" Harry managed, any sense of eloquence lost. From what he could feel, she was wearing the very same nightie that had been the fuel of so many wand polishing sessions this year.

"Well aren't you precious?" She chuckled, running her hand over his chest. "Were you this shy when you faced Slytherin's basilisk?"

"That was different." He rallied, not liking being called shy in typical teenaged fashion even if he wasn't one quite yet according to his age. "I had a cock with me."

The innuendo only dawned on him once it was too late.

Her hand slipped into the boxers that served as his sleepwear and wrapped around the one part of him that was fully at attention. "Feels like you have one with you right now."

Harry went as rigid as if he'd been hit with a pretrification spell.

"You might be wondering why I'm here." She went on with a smile that was barely visible in the dark, gently fondling what she'd grabbed earlier.

That had been a distant question in his mind. As far as the rest of him was concerned, the unannounced visit of a pretty girl in his bed was not to be questioned, especially after she'd stuck her hand in his underwear.

He wasn't really up to speech anymore, but he did manage a nod.

She pressed herself closer up against him and her fondling became more vigorous. "Well, I just thought that you deserved a proper reward. Do you want it?"

Nod nod.

"I want to hear you say it." She insisted huskily. "Tell me that you want it."

He swallowed thickly, embarrassment at an all time high. "I want it."

"Louder Harry, say it like you mean it."

"I want it!"

"Good, good. Now just relax and let me take care of you."

He did as he was told and very quickly made a mess in his boxers.

Harry drew in deep breaths as she continued to squeeze her fist every other second, making his discharge run over her fingers.

"You wouldn't happen to have had anything to do with Lockhart getting arrested, did you?" She asked after a few minutes.

"I was the one that sent the letter to the DMLE." He admitted instantly.

"How did you know that he was fooling around with the upper year girls?" She asked curiously.

"I didn't, I just wanted to get him in trouble." He once again admitted instantly.

She let out a giggle. "And here I thought you were protecting our virtue."

Harry flushed at her teasing tone. "I would've sent the letter sooner if I'd known."

"Don't worry about it, Harry. Those bimboes have no one but themselves to blame for buying into his lies."

All this talk about a teacher sleeping with his students brought Harry's mind around to the fact that he was twelve and that what had just happened was almost certainly illegal.

"Er, you won't get in trouble for, um, _this_ , will you?" He asked nervously.

"Were you going to tell on me, Harry?" She teased.

"No." He was quick to assure.

"Such a gentleman." She teased some more, though Harry wasn't sure if he could really be called a gentleman in this case. "But no, there won't be any legal trouble even if someone does find out. The magical world has a much looser interpretation of the age of consent than the muggle one and it's also assumed that strapping young wizards like yourself wouldn't refuse the attentions of an older witch in any case."

Well, that explained the lack of gender wards on the doors of the boys rooms. Lockhart must have gotten in trouble for it because he was a teacher then.

"That's good to hear." Harry said for lack of anything better. He was keenly aware that she had not yet removed her hand from his member.

"I'd best get going." She said about half a minute later, removing her hand from his underwear, reaching for her wand and using a quick _scourgify_ to remove the mess on it.

Harry stared openly as she bent over to pick up her robes, giving him a very nice view of her rear end in the process.

Being famous definitely had its upsides.

"I don't even know your name." He said once she was dressed.

"Probably better that way." She replied instead of answering the implied question. Then she leaned over him and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips.

"I hope you enjoyed the wand polishing lesson, Harry." She teased, smirking at his stunned look. "I hope the 'supplies' I gave you for Christmas help you keep it in top shape."

She left after that, leaving the shocked Harry to stare after her for quite some time before he snapped out of it.

Maybe it was because he'd just woken up, or the fact that he hadn't had any control of the situation, but the kiss had somehow had more impact than the handjob.

Based on the concealing robes, Harry had figured that the Wizarding World was full of prudes. While he had never been more glad to be wrong, this definitely bore further investigation.

XXXXX

"What are you smiling about?" Ginny asked on the train ride back to King's Cross.

"Just a pleasant memory." Harry answered, his smile not fading.

"It must have been quite relaxing." Luna observed. "You're not usually this mellow. "

"You could say that." He agreed after a moment, inordinately proud of himself for not blushing.

"What was it?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Something magical." He joked.

"Fine then, keep your secrets." Ginny huffed.

That was exactly what Harry intended to do, even if telling the redhead that he'd gotten a midnight handjob would probably put her off the silly crush she was still nursing. It was equally likely that it would make her all indignant and outraged, or worse, determined to invade his bed in the middle of the night as well.

XXXXX

"There's my daddy." Luna said happily, pointing at a tall and thin man with shoulder length hair that was completely white and who somehow managed to dress even more eccentrically than Dumbledore.

"And there's my parents." Ginny chimed in, pointing at two redheads. Not that it was necessary, seeing as another four Weasleys were making their way over to them.

"Come on, Harry. I want to introduce you." Luna chirped, dragging her friend over to her father.

"Okay." Harry agreed bemusedly. Luna wasn't usually so forceful, so he figured that she must really want this.

"Daddy." She squealed once she was close enough to hug her father, letting go of Harry's arm in the process.

"Hello again, turnip." The man replied, returning the hug gladly.

Harry watched the whole thing a bit awkwardly, but still smiled. The two were obviously close, which was not something he could really relate to, but he was happy for his friend.

"This is my friend, Harry Potter. And you already know Ginny." Luna said after a few moments, gesturing to them.

"Wonderful! I'm Xenophilius Lovegood, call me Xeno. Would you like to go snorkack hunting with us over the summer?"

"Errr..." Harry stammered, completely taken aback by the sudden invitation. At least it wasn't the usual Boy-Who-lived reaction that he'd grown to dislike so much. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm afraid I can't. I've got a lot to do over the summer."

"Same here." Ginny quickly added.

"Some other time then." Xeno said cheerfully. "It was nice meeting you, Harry."

"Likewise, Mr. Lovegood." Harry replied.

"Xeno." The man corrected.

"Xeno." Harry repeated agreeably, finding himself liking the strange man's manner.

Luna and her father made their goodbyes after that and left.

"Right, let's go meet my parents then." Ginny said after a moment.

Harry simply nodded, not at all looking forward to that. Molly Weasley's semi-frequent howlers hadn't given him a particularly grand impression of the woman. It would be rude to avoid it though.

They didn't even make it to the gathering of redheads before the twins started in on their routine.

"Well look who it is!"

"The Ravenclaw Weasley-"

"-Come to mingle with us simpleminded Gryffindors."

"We are honored by your intellectual presence, m'lady!"

"Shut up!" Ginny yelled at them, embarrassed by the teasing.

"Fred, George, lay off." The plump matron warned

"But of course, mother." They chorused and continued on regardless.

"We wouldn't dare embarass ickle Gin-Gin-"

"-in front of _the_ Harry Potter."

Harry aimed an annoyed look at them. The twins might be good for a few laughs, but sometimes they really didn't know when to stop.

"Then you are...?" The father of the bunch breathed, further annoying Harry with his awed reaction.

"Yes, Harry Potter." Harry interjected. "It's been a pleasure meeting you Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but I'm going to have to run. My ride is probably getting impatient."

Molly looked like she was about to say something more, but apparently decided against it, allowing Harry to escape the family of redheads without any further fuss. He could still hear Ginny voicing her displeasure at the twins even as he stepped through the portal to the muggle side of the station.

Ginny had already asked him if he wanted to spend part of the summer at the Burrow, and he was more glad than ever to have refused. He was sure that the Weasleys were good people, if a bit too pushy at times, but living in the same house as them would have quickly driven him spare. If the lack of privacy didn't get him, it would be the lack of quiet.

Besides, if he hung around with them, how was he supposed to get anything technically illegal done?

XXXXX

 **Though his name for me invokes images of Jay and Silent Bob, Salma Hayek doing a striptease, George Carlin playing a cardinal of all things, a shit demon and a threat-of-apocalypse-by-technicality, I think we can all agree that Alan Rickman made a great Severus Snape in the HP movies. RIP and all that.**

 **Until next time.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I've made a minor but relatively important edit to the previous chapter. Namely, I've changed it so that Harry is now convinced that Voldemort is dead since his phylactery(the diary) is destroyed. It was pointed out to me that he would have no reason to think that Voldemort would – or even could- have more than one. This may or may not have any effect on the story as it goes forward, but it was a blunder on my part that needed to be corrected.**

 **This chapter was a pain in the ass to write, which is why it took so long. Special thanks to Joe Lawyer, who was instrumental in refining it.**

XXXXX

Harry walked through the door of his foster home with a faint sense of resignation. He would have much rather skipped the hollow reunion routine that Robert and Katherine were no doubt going to be intent on going through even though there was nobody to see it.

"I'm home." He announced without enthusiasm.

He heard them coming a second later.

"Welcome...back?" Robert said, trailing off in confusion as he took in the changes in his adopted son.

"What are they feeding you at that school of yours?" Katherine asked, sounding genuinely amazed. "You're huge!"

Harry shifted awkwardly. The Weasleys hadn't commented on his size, probably out of politeness and Xeno Lovegood may not even have registered anything strange, but he knew that he was too big for his age. He might be just shy of thirteen years old, but he looked closer to fifteen thanks to the runes. He'd even caught the first hints of facial hair growing on his chin a while ago. To the Shaws, who hadn't seen him for ten months, the difference in his appearance must be massive.

"Just a growth spurt I guess."

Katherine came closer, reaching out to touch the mess that was his hair. It too was growing faster than normal and now hung just above his shoulders. It was currently at that annoying midway length where it was long enough to be annoying, but not quite long enough to be put into a ponytail.

"And your hair is a complete mess again." She fussed. "We'll have to get it cut soon."

Harry leaned away from her, not even bothering to be annoyed anymore. Of course she'd be worried about appearances right away. He'd stopped hoping for a hug by the time he was nine. That, and her perfume was stirring up his libido, which was still creepy.

"I was actually thinking of growing it long." He told her, taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in the appalled expressions it got him.

"No son of ours will be going around looking like some long-haired hooligan." Robert said firmly, his wife nodding in agreement.

Harry's expression brielfy twisted in irritation at their narrow-mindedness. Fortunately, he'd prepared some countermeasures ahead of time.

Not for the sake of his hair mind you, but it would be a good test.

Taking a deep breath, Harry used the months of Occlumency practice to suffuse his mind with a feeling of _calm_. Then he focused it and sent a pair of wandless calming spells at his foster parents.

"It's really not that big of a deal." He said in a conversational tone that hid his anxiety to see if it had worked. "We're not in the 1950s anymore, lots of men wear their hair long these days."

"I guess it won't be a problem if you style it properly." Katherine agreed with some reluctance.

Robert was still frowning however, clearly more resistant to either the idea or the effects of the spell. "I still think it would be better to keep it short."

Harry sent another calming spell at him, feeling incredibly pleased with the fact that it produced no flashy jets of light.

"Men frequently wear their hair long in the Wizarding World. It's tradition."

A tradition for Heirs and Lords of Noble Houses that had pretty much died out and which Harry didn't give two shits about, but he needed to test how much he could bend the wills of his nominal guardians. If he could use this to talk them into not objecting to him keeping his hair long, then he might also be able to use it to dodge any kind of responsibility for the whole summer.

Illegal? Mildly.

Immoral? Definitely.

"Alright." Robert capitulated, being a proponent of tradition. "But only if you get it styled into something elegant instead of the rat's nest it is now."

Convenient? Extremely.

XXXXX

Harry stared at the row of hair products in consternation, wondering if long hair was really worth it if he had to bother with all that crap. Maybe the Wizarding World had some kind of enchanted soap that simplified hair care? It probably did, he'd noticed a trend in the differences between the magical and non-magical. The magical world made small things incredibly convenient, but lacked wide scale sophistication, whereas the non-magical world excelled at large projects but contained numerous day to day inconveniances that couldn't simply be magicked away.

His introduction to the inconveniances of the non-magical female had been arranged by his foster mother. Calming spells might have worked to convince her that there was nothing wrong with a boy having long hair, but that was because she'd been upset about his refusal to comply and her personal dislike of the practice.

Convincing Katherine that it didn't need to be fastidiously taken care of would have taken an Imperius. She had seemingly decided that if he was going to keep the long hair, then they were going to make a day of it.

Harry had not been that bored in a long time and spent most of the day practicing his Occlumency. How women could find that enjoyable was beyond him. He had to admit that he _had_ enjoyed having a pretty hairdresser massaging his scalp though, slightly embarrassing though the trip to the obviously female targeted business had been.

At least he'd managed to buy that high-powered laptop he'd been meaning to get in addition to learning entirely too much about hair care. Now if only he could figure out how get a charger running in Potter Manor. Enchanting an object into being some kind of self-propelling dynamo wouldn't be a problem for him at this point, but putting together a gizmo to take advantage of it would be.

XXXXX

Charlus and Dorea had been eager to hear how the Chamber of Secrets business had been concluded and were amazed that Harry had participated in the slaying of an ancient basilisk, even if it was with a rooster. They were also quite proud of him for making a profit out of instead of letting Dumbledore claim the entire carcass.

"Whoever slipped your friend that cursed diary must have been a Death Eater." Dorea theorized.

"And Dobby was probably their house elf." Charlus added.

"Probably." Harry agreed.

"I can only be thankful that their foolishness resulted in Voldemort's soul container being destroyed." Dorea said with a shudder. "It does not bear thinking of that he might have returned if such things function as you said, Harry."

"No mention of soul containers in the Black Library?" Charlus asked.

"There very well might be, my family would certainly not think twice about keeping knowledge of such foul magic alive." Dorea replied with a distasteful frown. "It was not something I had ever considered reading up on, nor did my Head of House at the time allow me free access to the library since I was not of the main line."

"I guess we should just be glad that Voldemort didn't get a chance to regain his body." Charlus said with a sigh.

"Would I be able to access the Black Library?" Harry asked thoughtfully. He knew that creating a phylactery himself more than likely carried a steeper price than he was willing to pay, but he still wanted to learn about it. Dumbledore was the only person who seemed to know anything about the subject and asking him didn't strike Harry as a smart thing to do.

Neither Charlus nor Dorea were too happy about the direction of Harry's interests right now, but they weren't really people. They were portraits, and family portraits are always made to help the still living members of the family. Since Harry was the last Potter, they were compelled to obey his orders and answer his questions regardless of their own opinions.

"No, you were never keyed into the wards. The war with Voldemort has not been kind to the House of Black; most of its members are dead and the rest in prison. I believe that Sirius is next in line to become Lord Black, but he is currently rotting in Azkaban." Dorea finished bitterly.

Harry had done some investigating into his parents and their friends after being told about them by his grandparents. That was why he knew that Pettigrew was dead, that Remus Lupin had seemingly vanished off the face of the Earth and that Sirius Black was in Azkaban for betraying his parents to Voldemort, as well as the murder of twelve muggles and Peter Pettigrew.

Sirius had been like a son to her and Charlus, they would have adopted him if it wasn't for inter-House politics. The idea that he would have betrayed James and Lily to Voldemort was ludicrous. The memories that Harry had unlocked after performing his second ritual had only reinforced that belief. After all, why would Sirius have just given Harry to Hagrid if he had really been in Voldemort's service?

No, whatever had happened that night, they were certain that Sirius was innocent of betraying the Potters. The charges of murdering Pettigrew and twelve muggles were harder to dismiss however, especially if Pettigrew was the real traitor. Sirius had always been a hothead and it was far from impossible that he might have thrown out a careless blasting curse in the throes of rage.

"You must have been quite the school hero for the rest of the year after that." Charlus said with forced amusement, trying to move away from the depressing topic.

"You could say that." Harry grumbled a bit, though a smile pulled at his lips. Most of the school might have been annoyingly curious, but his mysterious late night visitor had certainly made up for it with her particular show of gratitude.

"Did any girls get crushes on you?" Dorea teased.

Harry shrugged, though he couldn't quite keep a tinge of pink off his cheeks. Aside from Ginny, he wasn't aware of any crushes, but that wasn't what he was thinking about.

"I know that look." Charlus said with a grin. "James and Sirius always had the same shifty look on their faces when they'd just been having a discussion about witches and didn't want us to know about it. What happened, Harry? Did a pretty girl show you her gratitude with a kiss?"

"Yes." Harry admitted, electing not to mention what had happened _before_ the kiss.

"Who was she?" Dorea asked curiously.

"I, er, don't know."

"How can you not know?" Charlus asked, baffled. "Surely she didn't just walk up to you, kiss you, and then leave without ever introducing herself?"

 _No, she just snuck into my room in the middle of the night, gave me a handjob, kissed me and left without introducing herself._ Harry thought to himself with a mental snicker despite his embarrassment.

He could only give another shrug to Charlus though, having no idea what to tell the man without outright lying, which he was reluctant to do.

"Harry, how old was this girl?" Dorea questioned suspiciously.

"Errr, she was a seventh year." He admitted with a nervous fidget.

"Going after the older girls, eh Harry?" Charlus chuckled while Dorea muttered disapprovingly.

"She went after me." Harry corrected, lips being pulled into a grin. "Said that she wanted to show me how much she appreciated my efforts."

"Women do like poweful wizards." Charlus said, exchanging a sly look with his grandson.

"Men." Dorea huffed, hiding her own amusement.

XXXXX

Harry spent the next couple of weeks in intense study, desperately trying to bring his knowledge of mathemathics and arithmancy up to the point where he would be able to perform another ritual. Learning how to use a computer to help with that pursuit also took up some time, but all in all he felt that he was making good progress.

It was fortunate that unlike spells, rituals were fairly structured things and he could re-use a lot of the work from his previous two. The task of precisely defining the movements of the knife was time consuming and difficult with only a miniscule margin for error, but it did not contain any of the bizzare variables that magic introduced into spellcraft. It was essentially pure science, reliably predictable and math heavy, whereas crafting a new spell was oftentimes more of an art.

Robert and Katherine occasionally tried to drag him off to some social event or another and kept making plans for turning his birthday into one.

Judicious application of calming spells and what weak compulsions he could cast kept things under control for the most part. Any sense of guilt that Harry might have felt at magically messing with their heads was overshadowed by his relief at having a means to get them to bugger off.

He received no letters from either Luna or Ginny, which was to be expected given his little owl problem. He still had no idea how he was going to deal with that, if it even _could_ be dealt with. The three of them had agreed not to bother with letters over the summer due to a combination of that issue and him not having an owl of his own, but there was another letter he was expecting that would probably turn out to be problematic when it couldn't be delivered.

Namely, his Hogwarts supply list for third year. In all likelihood, he would need to explain himself to an irate Deputy Headmistress come August when the school owls found themselves unable to deliver anything to him.

Filling his days with nothing but sleeping, eating and study quickly began to make Harry a dull boy however. He still kept at it in spite of that, which turned him from a dull boy into a frustrated one and then an angry one, at which point he became about ready to set his notes on fire if he had to look at one more symbol.

Seeing as this would be incredibly counter-productive, he decided to take a day off instead.

XXXXX

Standing in a bus on the way to the cinema, Harry debated whether he should praise or curse the capricious whims of the weather.

The July temperatures in London usually hung around 20°C, but 2013 was turning out to be an unusually hot year. Furthermore, July 22nd was turning out to be an unusually hot day in an already unusually hot year, with temperatures going over 30°C.

Harry had not yet mastered wandless cooling charms and was reduced to sweating it out like everyone else. At least the bus had air conditioning.

On the up side, he was standing next to the seat of a pretty girl that was perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old, who was wearing a pair of very short jean shorts and a black tank top that gave him a perfect view down her cleavage. The Wizarding World could boast about a lot of things, but sexy female clothing was not one of them. He hadn't even realized what he was missing until he saw the barely perceptible sheen of sweat on a pair of firm teenaged breasts. The compulsive power of rune enhanced puberty kept his eyes glued to the sight of them.

The girl looked up. She saw him staring.

"See something you like, Green-Eyes?" She asked, both as a warning and challenge.

 _Shite. I really need to stop getting caught doing that. Time to dip into the excuse box, Potter._

"I'm sorry," He began with an awkward smile. "I go to a boarding school with a very strict dress code and I don't get to see pretty girls in anything but stodgy uniforms for most of the year."

The girl snorted, either amused or unimpressed. Harry couldn't quite tell.

Harry bit his lip, an idea popping into his mind. He'd gotten used to having friendly company around, which was why he'd decided on going to the cinema instead of staying in his room and fooling around on the internet or gaming like he usually did, but it still wasn't the same as having Luna around(or even Ginny).

This girl was a complete stranger and might very well be mildly pissed at him for the staring, but they were already sort of talking and he could use the company. As a bonus, she was quite pretty, had almost certainly never heard of the Boy-Who-Lived(the chances of her being a witch or having a magical relative had to be insanely remote) and would probably assume that he was only slightly younger than her instead of the not-quite-thirteen year old that he actually was.

"Listen, I'm sorry about the staring. How about you let me take you to dinner and a movie as an apology?" He offered, employing his hard earned skill at Occlumency to keep any hints of nervous stutter out of his voice and the much resented etiquette lessons that Robert and Katherine had forced on him to sound smoother than he felt.

She looked up at him again, this time speculatively. She had a small metal stud in her nose and another one in her tongue if his eyes did not deceive him. Her eyes were a very dark brown and her hair was obviously dyed black. Aside from her jean shorts and tank top, all she had on her were a pair of scuffed trainers and a deliberately beaten up looking tan green bag that sported a plenthora of doodles depicting what he guessed were band signs.

His foster parents would have been horrified if they knew that he was associating with someone like her, which just made it better as far as he was concerned.

"Are you asking me on a date?" She asked.

"I guess I am." He replied evenly, doing his level best to keep the blood away from his face.

She stayed quiet for a while, deliberately prolonging his torment.

Most of her already mild irritation at his peeping had dissipated when he'd apologized, so she was not entirely opposed to his suggestion and it wasn't like she'd had any plans for the day in the first place. The black haired boy was more polite than what she was used to and a bit on the young side, but not at all bad looking, had the most gorgeous green eyes she'd ever seen and probably had money to spare if his mention of going to a boarding school was true. As far as random date requests went, this one was actually quite appealing.

"Alright, Green-Eyes, I'll go on a date with you."

"Harry." He introduced himself with a smile, offering her his hand.

"Zoe." She smiled back, taking the hand.

XXXXX

Harry had already learned with Luna that being around people that didn't expect anything from you could be fun. He learned with Zoe that just goofing off for a while was very liberating. He couldn't even recall the last time he'd felt so relaxed.

They went to an 'all you can eat' type restaurant first, where he decided to show off a bit by eating enough for three grown men, much to his date's disgusted awe and fascination.

After that they went to see a movie, where Harry learned that Zoe was one of those people that liked to point out plot holes, logic failures and inconsistencies rather than watch quietly. They didn't make any new friends there.

Harry mentioned reading somewhere that the Headmaster of his school enjoyed ten-pin bowling, which had Zoe suggesting that they go do that since neither of them had ever tried it. As it turned out, they both sucked at it.

Harry paid for everything without really giving it much thought. He'd grown up rich, but rarely spent anything until recently. He remembered what it was like to be poor all too well and had no desire to return to that through careless spending, no matter how unlikely it was. He hadn't expected to have this much fun on their date and the last thing he wanted to do was spoil it by being cheap.

The day had to end eventually though and the two of them set off toward home, though it was long after it had gotten dark.

"I can't believe that you're stuffing your face again." Zoe was saying in exasperation, staring at the subway sandwich Harry had picked up a short while ago.

"I'm a growing boy." He replied with the standard excuse.

"You'll be growing sideways if you don't watch it, you plonker." She threw back with a wide grin.

"You're just jealous." He retorted smugly.

"Damn right I'm jealous!" The girl exclaimed loudly, scowling playfully. "You've been shoving food down your gob the whole bloody day like it's nothing. If it tried that, I'd be the size of a bus in a month."

"A double decker." Harry agreed with a laugh.

"Prat."

They lapsed into silence for a while, just waiting for their respective buses to arrive to take them home while Harry finished off his latest meal.

"Harry, listen..." Zoe started, suddenly nervous. "I had a really great time today..."

"So did I." He replied, wondering what she was trying to say.

"...But I don't think we should be doing this again."

Harry blinked at the sudden serious turn the evening had taken.

"I didn't really expect us to." He admitted after a moment. "I don't get much free time. Today was an exception because I was overworked, but I'm going to be busy for the rest of the summer and then I'll be off in my school for ten months. I like you, but I never expected this to be more than a one time thing."

And that wasn't even mentionning that he had to keep magic a secret from her. He had no idea what the protocol was for bringing someone new in on it, but he suspected that it was pretty draconian. Not that he had an abundance of respect for the Ministry's laws, but he _did_ have respect for the consequences of those laws.

"Yeah...I kind of have a boyfriend already anyway." She admitted, scratching awkwardly at the back of her head.

Harry blinked again and stared at her for a long few seconds.

"Won't he be upset that you went on a date with me?"

"We're having a bit of a break right now, so it's cool."

"Huh...okay then."

They lapsed into silence again, a significantly more uncomfortable one this time.

"So...this school of yours gives you homework to do over the summer?" Zoe asked after a minute.

"Yep, quite a lot of it actually." None of which he'd even looked at yet. The preparations for the next ritual had consumed all of his attention.

"Barbaric."

"Absolutely."

"We can still stay in touch though, right?" She asked brightly. "You can never have too many friends."

Harry winced. Staying in touch while he was at Hogwarts would be quite the feat. Owls and the Floo Network were the only ways for students to communicate with the outside world and neither would work for talking to someone that didn't know about magic.

"That might be a problem." He said after a few seconds. "The school I go to is seriously isolated. I'd be shocked if there's so much as a phone anywhere within fifty kilometers of it."

In fact, he knew that there wasn't one.

Zoe's face fell into a sad expression.

"You don't have to lie, Harry. If you're mad at me for not mentioning my boyfriend, then just tell me."

"I'm not lying." Harry insisted. "There really isn't any phone or internet access at my school."

"Where the hell do you go to school, the middle of the Atlantic?" She asked sarcastically, not at all convinced.

"Some Scottish Highland in the ass end of nowhere actually." He admitted ruefully.

"You're serious?!" She asked incredulously.

"Afraid so."

"What could they possibly be teaching you up there without any technology, the best way to shag a sheep?"

Harry snickered, having a bizzare mental image of McGonagall transfiguring a desk into the aforementioned animal and tutoring them in the proper technique to shag it in true Scottish fashion. It certainly gave him a new perspective on the possible alternative uses of transfiguration.

"It's a very...traditional...sort of place." He evaded, rapidly developing an appreciation for how much bullshit the non-magical family members of wizards and witches had to shovel to keep magic a secret.

"Keep telling yourself that, sheep shagger."

"I'll have you know that everyone there is very right and proper, they would've been scandalized by your pierced tongue and poor manners." Harry retorted lightly, knowing that he was probably right. The wizard-raised would be both baffled and horrified at the idea of having a metal stud in one's tongue.

"So it's a bunch of snobbish sheep shaggers?" She asked.

Harry gave it a moment's thought before giving a slow nod. He could easily imagine Draco Malfoy with his nose up in the air even while shagging a sheep. He wished he hadn't imagined it, but it was too late for that now.

"A lot of them _are_ snobby."

"I'm actually kind of surprised that _you_ aren't." She admitted.

"Why? Because my foster parents are snobby twats?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Foster parents? I thought they were your real parents."

"Nah, my real parents were murdered by a psychotic neo-nazi when I was a year old." That was as good a description for Voldemort as any.

Zoe recoiled in shock despite his casual tone and stared at him in horror.

"Don't worry about it, it was a long time ago. I've gotten over it." Harry assured her.

 _Well, I've_ mostly _gotten over it._

"I guess that explains why you're not a snobby rich kid, haha." She said, giving a nervous (and quite fake) laugh.

"Sorry, probably shouldn't have just blurted it out like that."

"It was a bit of a surprise." She admitted and they went silent again.

"I think that's your bus." Harry said about a minute later, seeing the vehicle in question approaching.

Zoe bit her lip at that, suddenly looking a bit indecisive for a moment before her face firmed in resolve. The next thing Harry knew, she was mashing her lips up against his.

Eyes going wide in shock, Harry responded on a clumsy autopilot, feeling the now familiar shiver of magic pulse from his runes as his arousal rose. He was barely aware of his hands going around her to grab her rear end as he began to respond more enthusiastically.

"My mum isn't coming home until tomorrow." She whispered into his ear when they separated, the invitation clear.

Later on, Harry would have liked to say that he had considered this offer carefully and thought about various factors such as his brief acquaintance with Zoe, her uncertain relationship status, his youth and several other things.

In reality, most of his higher reasoning had migrated south along with his blood. Indeed, his most complex thought was something along the lines of ' _I'm getting laid!_ '.

Inexperienced with this kind of situation and unsure of how to accept, he merely gave her butt a squeeze and leaned in for another kiss.

XXXXX

They got on the bus together and spent an impatient ten minutes touching in a way that didn't really help with the waiting.

Then they made a B line towards the apartment building where Zoe lived with her mother, her father not being around for reasons that Harry had felt it unwise to press her on. An interesting session of heavy elevator snogging and a short walk down the hallway later, they were through the door of the flat.

Harry had only a few seconds to take in the small-ish living space as Zoe led him to her room. It was fairly tidy, but the pile of towels on the couch, a few dirty dishes in the sink and traces of dust in places betrayed the fact that the people living here were not as obsessive about neatness as he was used to. Teeny would have a nervous breakdown at the thought of a mess being left anywhere in a place that people lived and Robert and Katherine would turn their noses up so high that they'd be able to collect rainwater with their nostrils.

The thought of his foster parents penetrated the lust currently fogging his brain and he recalled that he had to do something.

"Hang on a second." He said, pulling out his phone. "I need to call Katherine and tell her that I'm not coming home today."

"They don't like you slipping the leash?" Zoe smirked, toying with the waistband of her shorts.

"You could say that." Harry grumbled. "I wouldn't put it past her to call the police and make a huge scene."

And not out of worry that he'd been kidnapped or something either, since it would hardly be the first time that he'd slept over in Potter Manor. No, she'd do it for the publicity. Then she would spend the next month or so milking the 'I was so scared' card before it got old. She _probably_ wouldn't do it since it might also make her look neurotic, but it was best to not give her an excuse.

Sometimes, Harry got the distinct feeling that Robert and Katherine were actually _hoping_ that someone would kidnap him, just so that they'd have a legitimate reason to plaster themselves all over the news.

"Go ahead then." Zoe said, still smirking and starting to take off her clothes.

Harry had some trouble finding the name of his foster mother with the impromptu striptease going on in front of him. To be fair, the mismatched pair of black bra and blue thong was a lot more interesting. He did manage to call her eventually though.

" _Hello?_ " Katherine answered with her usual overdone sense of poise.

"Katherine, hi. I'm not going to be coming home today." Harry said without preamble, the majority of his attention fixed on Zoe.

" _Sleeping over in the magical house your parents left you again?_ " Katherine asked rhetorically, a fair bit of bite in her words. " _Robert and I would really like to see it one day, you know._ "

Harry did know, the two of them hadn't stopped wheedling about it since they'd learned that he actually owned something. Call him paranoid, but Harry wasn't keen to let them anywhere near Potter Manor. He feared for the antique furniture at the very least, even if two non-magicals didn't really have any right to them according to wizard law. Both Robert and Katherine had a sense of entitlement to rival any wizard and were sure to attempt getting their mitts on anything they could. He didn't even want to think about their reaction to the vaults full of gold he had in Gringotts.

"You know it's not that easy." He said back, a trace of irritation seeping into his own tone.

Zoe looked at him curiously and suddenly developed a mischievous grin.

" _Yes, so you said. These wards of yours that are supposed to repel non-magical people._ " Katherine replied, dubiously. Not that she doubted their existence, merely their ability to affect her. She was just about arrogant enough to think herself too strong willed for that." _But it's your house. Couldn't you disable them or something?_ "

While Katherine had been talking, Zoe had taken the opportunity to yank his shorts down to his ankles, leaving him suddenly and unceremoniously exposed.

Harry gaped at Zoe in shock at the unexpected move. She winked back up at him from her kneeling position and pushed him to sit on the bed.

" _Harry, are you still there?_ "

"Wh- yeah, I'm still here." He said, sounding much more flustered than before.

" _What happened? You sound strange._ "

Inwardly cursing nosy foster mothers who couldn't just end the fucking call already, Harry made up a quick excuse.

"Um, the carpet grabbed my leg."

Zoe slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from bursting into giggles at what probably sounded like an outrageous lie to her.

" _Animated carpets. Honestly, I will never understand why anyone would use magic for something like that._ "

Neither would Harry to be perfectly honest, but he was for once glad that wizards and witches were generally insane enough for pretty much anything to sound plausible.

"Me neithER!"

" _What was it this time?_ "

"Stubbed my toe." Harry answered with strain in his voice.

He hadn't of course, since he was quite stationery. The real reason was that Zoe had apparently gotten impatient and decided to start him off with a blowjob, though the amused gleam in her dark eyes suggested that she was also doing it to add some extra difficulty to his phone call.

" _Figures that you'd be clumsy with how fast you're growing. I read that people that grow quickly tend to be less aware of their body._ " Katherine commented, oblivious to the fact that her audience couldn't care less if he tried.

"That's great." Harry replied, not sure if he was saying it to his foster mother or the girl currently demonstrating the uses of a tongue stud during oral sex.

" _You must have hit your toe really hard, you sound like you're in a lot of pain._ "

"Yes, pain." Harry agreed, clenching his teeth tightly as Zoe suddenly hollowed out her cheeks and began sucking on him earnestly. "Listen Katherine, I really need to do something about this."

What he really needed to do was warn Zoe that he was about to blow and he could hardly do that with his foster mother still on the line. He'd already tried to tug on her hair but she didn't seem to be getting the message.

 _"Alright, but do look into lowering those wards later._ "

Unable to hold back any more, Harry resigned himself to getting yelled at for unloading in a girl's mouth without warning her.

" _Harry?_ " Katherine asked, no doubt hearing his heavy breathing through the nose as Zoe kept on sucking through his orgasm, apparently unbothered by the lack of warning.

"Yeah, I got it. Talk to you later, Katherine." Harry said and ended the call, trying not to sound too relieved when Zoe popped his oversensitive cock out of her mouth.

While Harry took a moment to catch his breath, Zoe took a tissue and a bottle of water from her bag, spat the semen she'd so industriously extracted from him into it and then gulped down a few mouthfuls of water.

"Sorry." He apologized with a wince.

"Don't be, you taste a lot better than Jeff ever did. Man eats too much cheese." Zoe replied with a shrug.

Not exactly the response he'd been expecting, but Harry made a note to investigate the effects of food on the taste of his sperm.

"I meant for not warning you." He clarified.

"Oh Harry, you really think I couldn't tell?" Zoe chuckled, stepping closer until panty clad crotch was practically rubbing against his nose. There was a small spot of wetness on the blue fabric that made her own arousal clear. "It was obvious, even if you did cum as quick as a virgin."

"I _am_ a virgin." Harry admitted, resisting the surprisingly strong temptation to bury his nose in her crotch. The runes had settled down a bit after his orgasm, but the faint smell of her arousal was quickly bringing his own back and the magic with it.

"Really?" There was a hint of incredulity in Zoe's voice that baffled Harry. He looked fifteen at most and she couldn't possibly be more than seventeen, though she was probably sixteen. What was so strange about being a virgin at that age?

"Really." He confirmed, looking at her a bit oddly.

"We'll have to do something about that." She said with a smirk, pulling his shirt off, unclipping her bra and sliding her thong down her legs to expose her recently shaved crotch. "But first, how about getting me ready?"

It was quite obvious what she wanted and Harry wasn't opposed to it in the slightest. The smell was certainly enticing.

He leaned in closer and hesitantly dragged his tongue across her slit, unsure what to expect. To his mild surprise, there wasn't much of a taste to her sex aside from the salty tang of her sweat from the hot day and a very faint musk that corresponded to the smell of her.

Zoe's hands went into his hair as he continued his slow exploration of her lower lips, getting bolder every time she made a sound of pleasure. He kept it up for a minute or two before becoming dissatisfied with the position. With him sitting down and her standing in front of him, he had fairly limited access and he wanted to change it.

Zoe made a small sound of disappointment when he nudged her to get on the bed, but she did it anyway, settling herself on it and spreading her legs for him. She looked like she was about to say something, but stopped herself when he once again went for her crotch with his face.

"You're doing pretty well for a virgin." She said with a pleased sigh, running her fingers through his hair. "Most boys don't like licking a girl, they just stick it in and start hammering away."

Buried as he was in muff, Harry couldn't respond, but he couldn't for the life of him understand why anyone would dislike this. Sure, he was almost painfully hard, but there was nowhere he'd rather be right now. Besides, she'd sucked him off and it seemed only right to return the favor.

"Higher." She directed, tugging on his hair.

Harry obliged and moved upward, leaving her vaginal opening alone for now.

"Just a little bit higher."

Puzzled as to why, he nonetheless did as he was told and moved his tongue a little bit higher. He figured that his tongue had nearly completely left her nether lips when she suddenly bucked with a quickly indrawn breath.

Intrigued by the powerful reaction, he dragged his tongue over the same area again.

"Yes! Right there." Zoe gasped, her hand clenching in his hair almost painfully.

That was exactly what he'd been about to do either way, so Harry was more than happy to follow her directions again. Several more long licks over the area revealed a little nub of some sort that appeared to elicit an especially intense reaction, so he began to focus on it exclusively.

This quickly had Zoe panting her way to an orgasm, squeezing her legs around Harry's head to stop him from abusing her overstimulated clitoris any further.

"Wow...not bad." She breathed. "You were a bit clueless at the start and a bit too rough at the end, but not bad at all. I give you a six out of ten in licking pussy."

Wiping the spit and other fluids off his jaw, Harry shot her an amused look. "You have a scale?"

"Oh yes." She confirmed with a giggle. "'one' is 'painful and not at all pleasant' and 'ten' is 'explosive squirting'."

Harry didn't really know how to respond to that, so he just ran his hand across her still spread legs and shuffled closer, lining himself up with her opening.

"Wait." Zoe stopped him, reaching over to a small nightstand and pulling out a condom. "Put that on. I'm on the pill, but we wouldn't want to have any accidents, would we?"

This ended up being Harry's introduction to the frustration of dealing with condom packaging.

"Give it here." Zoe said in exasperation after seeing him fumble with the prophylactic for a full fifteen seconds without success. With easy motions that betrayed a lot of practice, she quickly ripped the packaging and wrapped the latex tube around his shaft.

"Come on in." She beckonked once that was done, spreading her legs lewdly in invitation.

Feeling a mix of eagerness and nervous anticipaton, Harry moved forward and placed his hands on the enticing pair of breasts that had started this whole sequence of events, sinking into her wet warmth at the same time.

Once he was completely inside her, she suddenly pulled him down on top of her, wrapping her legs around his waist and grabbing the back of his head to whisper in his ear.

"Your virginity is mine now, Harry, and you're never getting it back."

He looked at her incredulously and she burst out laughing, apparently unable to keep a straight face.

"Sorry, I've always wanted to say that." She explained with a giggle. "Now get to the shagging, and try not to blow your load in thirty seconds again."

XXXXX

Ever since he'd completed his first ritual and discovered the unexpected side-effects, Harry had occasionally pondered what a rune like _Uruz_ would mean for his sexual stamina. He hadn't noticed any particular difference during his many wand polishing sessions, nor had he lasted long during the surprise handjob at the end of his second year, but he hadn't wanted to dismiss the possibility.

He finally had a definite answer.

"Why are you hard again? _How_ are you hard again." Zoe asked plaintively, exhaustion evident in her tone.

"Must be magic." Harry quipped, snickering at his private joke.

He may not have lasted very long the first couple of times, but his recovery period was turning out to be inhumanly fast. He'd also built enough stamina that he was lasting a much more respectable length of time by round six, which was now.

"Well you and your magical cock are going to have to calm down because I'm running out of condoms. I can't use them all on you, in one night no less."

"I'll buy you as many as you want tomorrow." He offered, flicking his tongue over one of her nipples.

"You're damn right you will, but I'm tired." Zoe continued in the same plaintive voice as before. "And sore. And sweaty. I just want to take a shower and go to sleep."

"Want me to wash your back?" Truth be told, he was pretty tired himself and wouldn't mind a shower and sleep either, but teasing the girl he'd exhausted was making his ego skyrocket.

She snorted. "Nice try, but our shower isn't even close to big enough for that."

"Aww."

"Tell you what, Harry. I'll give you another blowjob in the bathroom if you stop poking me in the arse with that thing." Zoe offered tiredly.

"Okay." Harry quickly agreed.

He might be tired, but a blowjob was a blowjob.

XXXXX

The next morning, Harry left Zoe's apartment block with a skip in his step after leaving behind a twenty pound note to pay for the amount of condoms he'd used, feeling subtly different than when he'd gone in. For all the effort he'd put into learning Occlumency, his hormones had still been all over the place ever since his first rune set. They were _still_ all over the place and would continue to be until his accelerated puberty was over, but the sex seemed to have made it a bit better. The magic in the in his runes felt a bit less chaotic.

Or it could just be that he was in a good mood and was imagining things.

XXXXX

Harry got back to work on his ritual after that, finding it much easier now that he was no longer wound tighter than a steel cable.

He resisted the urge to do more with Zoe than send an occasional text, regardless of the understandable urge to focus on the pretty girl instead of the preparations to carve a set of symbols into his skin with a knife. All the reasons for why getting too close to her was a bad idea were very valid and he'd checked the Ministry guidelines for introducing an uninformed and unrelated muggle to magic. It was exactly as draconian as he'd suspected it would be.

Basically, if they weren't immediate family such as a sibling, spouse, parent or child, then it was illegal to tell them. Meaning that unless he married her(which he obviously wasn't intending to do, considering his actual age and their brief acquintance), he'd have to keep Zoe in the dark or else be charged with violating the Statute of Secrecy if he got discovered. Naturally, they'd wipe her memories as well, including her memories of him. Harry wasn't so confident in his ability to fool the Ministry that he'd be willing to risk it and that wasn't even taking into account how Zoe herself might react to the notion of magic.

On the home front, his foster parents continued their attempts to use his birthday as an excuse to organize something, only to run afoul a constant stream of calming charms and mild compulsion spells from him until it was too late. Harry could only breathe a sigh of relief at getting through his birthday without any fuss for a change.

As expected, he received no owls, not from Luna or Ginny for his birthday and not from McGonagall for his school supplies.

He wasn't surprised when she showed up personally the next day.

XXXXX

"Would you care to explain why the Hogwarts owls seem unable to locate you, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked once they were settled in the sitting room.

"I couldn't say, Professor." Harry said evenly, being well prepared for this conversation. "All I know is that it's been going on since Christmas. Luna and Ginny weren't able to send me their presents either."

"And you did not think to inform anyone of this?" The old witch asked in a displeased tone.

"I didn't think it was that big of a deal." Harry shrugged.

"Having an Owl Ward set up around you without your knowledge or your magical guardian's permission is indeed a 'big deal'." McGonagall huffed and pulled out her wand.

Harry sat still while she waved it over him and muttered to herself. This was the most nerve wracking part of the experience, where he could do nothing but trust that _Arhain_ would be able to frustrate her efforts at determining the truth. He would have very much liked to tell her that he didn't want anyone casting diagnostic spells on him, but he knew that it would only serve to make them suspicious. Dumbledore, being his magical guardian _in loco parentis_ , would probably force the issue and Harry would be legally forced to comply.

Even the more progressive laws of the mundane world didn't really consider thirteen year olds as _people_ in the legal sense. Rather, it considered them as something very close to the property of their guardians, similar to pets really. Sure, it was to protect them from making any hugely stupid decisions due to their youth, but it still rankled.

"That's strange." McGonagall said, looking perplexed. "I can't find any trace of an Owl Ward."

Harry resisted the urge to say something dismissive. Being cheeky about it was not the way to deflect suspicion.

"What is it then?" He asked instead, politely.

"I don't know." She answered with a frown, making another few swishes over him with her wand. "I'm not detecting anything out of the ordinary."

Harry held back a relieved sigh. _Arhain_ was working.

"We will need to have the Headmaster and perhaps Poppy examine you further when you return to Hogwarts."

And there was the downside. Unexplained mysteries made people curious and nosy.

XXXXX

A few days after McGonagall's visit, Harry happened to be passing through the living room where his foster parents were watching TV when he caught sight of a very interesting article on the news.

" _Mass murderer Sirius Black has escaped from prison and is considered armed and extremely dangerous. If you see him, contact the police immediately. Do NOT approach him._ "

The article was accompanied by a picture of the man looking quite deranged, with an elbow length tangle of hair, pasty white skin, sunken eyes and rotten teeth. He was much changed from the few memories of him that Harry had, but it was undoubtedly his godfather.

There was no information on which prison he'd escaped from, which gave Robert something to complain about, but Harry knew which one it was. He would keep a wary eye out for any unusually large black dogs this year. Even if he was almost positive that Sirius had nothing to do with the deaths of his parents, there was still a good chance of him actually being guilty for the other crimes he'd been imprisoned for and there was no telling what state the dementors had left him in over the past twelve years.

XXXXX

 _Mid August_

Harry pushed away from his desk and thrust both his arms into the air victoriously, a feeling of deep satisfaction filling him.

He lowered them after a few seconds and slumped into a lazy, relieved slouch.

It was finally done. The symbols were chosen, the arithmancy checked out, everything had been triple checked both by himself and the computer. The ritual was ready.

Seven words, this time in kanji. He'd not quite realized how much trouble that particular alphabet would give him when he'd chosen it, but he hadn't wanted to back out of using it simply because it would be difficult.

Unlike the Norse or Avariel runes, kanji characters were far more complex in appearance and often had multiple characters per word, making them take more cuts to carve as a result, but they were not as ambiguous in meaning and thus far more predictable. He would be glad to have them carved and get it over with.

Tomorrow. Right now it was time for a nap so that his brain stopped hurting.

XXXXX

Sorcery

Poison

Cleanse

Lungs

Kidneys

Liver

Intestine

Harry kept these seven words firmly in mind as he stepped into the ritual circle and felt the built in petrification spell take hold.

The purpose of this rune set was simple. To increase the speed at which poisons and foreign magic was purged from him. The downside of it was as obvious as it was simple. It would also work against beneficial magic and medicines, as healing spells were still foreign to his body and medicines were really nothing more than targeted poisons. He deemed it a fair exchange.

" _Majutsu._ "

The knife rose and began carving the two character word into his right shoulder. It took longer than any of his previous runes because of the complexity, but that was how it was. Harry ignored the pain as best he could and sank into an Occlumency trance, focusing on the meaning and purpose of his newest rune.

When it was done, he felt his magic move into the freshly carved wound and settle into a tense wait. It wasn't a latent bit of magic anymore, but something that had been given a purpose that needed to be fulfilled. Harry smiled. The same had happened with _Raido_ , so he knew that it was working as it should.

" _Doku_."

A single character word this time, carved into his left shoulder. His magic settled into it just as easily, but the sense of anticipation grew.

" _Kiyomemasu._ "

A four character word, carved into his upper breastbone. This time, the magic already held in the previous two runes joined the latent magic flowing into the new one, taking further direction from it.

Now to tell it where to go.

" _Haizō._ "

This one was a bit different than the three before it. He had two lungs, so two sets of the two character rune were carved into his chest, where the organs in question were.

As soon as it was done, he felt the previously prepared magic rushing into his lungs.

Harry gasped in wonder, getting a true feel for his lungs for the first time in his life. A shiver of sensation ran through his first set of runes and he could feel their magic joining that of the ones he'd just carved, instinctively knowing that their healing effects were being put to work to undo what little damage his lungs had accrued over his short life.

" _Jinzō_."

The knife moved to his back and began carving another two set of two character kanji over his kidneys. His magic filled them the same as it had his lungs, repairing any damage to them and enhancing their natural purpose of purifying the blood.

Another important bit of information came back to the forefront of Harry's mind as this happened.

The lungs did not have pain receptors.

The kidneys did however, as Harry learned when he felt a dull burn flare up in them as they were magically enhanced beyond normal capacity.

Knowing that there was no choice but to keep going and hope that it would pass quickly, he hurried on with the last two parts of the ritual.

" _Kimo._ "

The knife made quick work of the single character word and the burn spread to his liver as well.

" _Chō._ "

The last word was also just one character, which the knife carved into the soft tissue of his petrified, unmuscled stomach. Predictably, his entire intestinal tract began burning painfully.

The ritual dropped him unceremoniously into the small pool of blood that had run down his legs, leaving him groaning pitifully as the burn continued to slowly worsen.

He hadn't anticipated that little wrinkle, for which he knew that Charlus and Dorea were going to give him knowingly pointed looks and Teeny would confine him to bed for the next few days, all the while wringing her hands nervously at her inability to make the pain stop and making him feel guilty for worrying her.

Good thing he'd told Robert and Katherine that he'd be spending a few days with a friend from school. The last thing he wanted was to deal with them while feeling as if his organs were being microwaved.

XXXXX

Harry spent the next couple of days experiencing the joys of his body suddenly having much more effective filtration system, complete with such wonderful features as a burning pain when taking a piss. It fortunately settled down after the initial change, for which Harry was grateful. He had been briefly worried that he'd made a huge mistake and had a lifetime of constant pain to look forward to, but it turned out that all was well as soon his body was brought down to a lower toxin threshhold than it had been at before.

He still felt that the end result was worth it, but he wouldn't soon forget that applying magical changes directly to one's organs _hurt_.

Once that unpleasant experience was over with, Harry suddenly found himself with some free time on his hands before the summer ended. Sure, he still had to do the homework that Hogwarts had assigned him, but that was a day's work at the most. Two if he was slow about it.

Zoe had sent him a few texts that were a clear invitation for another date and later a repeat of their last encounter, but he had reluctantly begged off due to his desire to finish the ritual. There wasn't anything like that holding him back now though.

Mind made up, he took out his phone and started writing the text. Sure, Zoe was technically in a relationship with someone already, but that was honestly between her and this 'Jeff' character that he presumed was her on-again off-again boyfriend. Zoe could tell him to back off at any time, but until then he was going to treat her as if she was single.

XXXXX

Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express early, as had been his habit for the past two years. He wanted to stake a claim on an empty compartment, rather than end up in a situation where he had to sit with strangers.

He'd gotten to meet up with Zoe an additional two times, both of which had ended with sex at her place. Apparently her mother often spent the night with her own current boyfriend, which left Zoe plenty of alone time for her own activities.

It had quickly become obvious to Harry that he was being used for his money as much as for his company, as Zoe had picked out a list of activities that were well out of the sensible budget of a normal teenager on both days and never mentioned the fact that he always left behind more money than a few condoms warranted.

He didn't really mind, truth be told. The expenditure for him was far from huge and it ended in sex. Zoe didn't seem any more interested in making something more of their arrangement than him, for which he was thankful, as it would be simply impractical for him to get involved with a muggle girl at this point. He hadn't expected his spur of the moment date request back in July to formulate into having a summer fuck buddy, but he was certainly not complaining.

At the very least, it had reduced the amount of incidents where he was seized by the sudden urge to bend his foster mother over a table. That had never stopped being weird, even if he'd gotten kind of used to it.

Luna walked in some time after him, followed by Ginny who barely boarded before the train started moving. Luna had some amusing stories to tell about her snorkack hunting adventure, but Harry was far more interested in what Ginny had to say for a change.

"There are animated skeletons in the Egyptian tombs?" He asked with surprised interest.

"Yeah, but some of them were really weird. My brothers said that one of them had two heads because of some curse or other that was in there." The redhead explained enthusiastically.

"You didn't see them yourself?" He wondered.

"No." She scowled. "Mum didn't let me see, said that it was 'no place for a young lady'. Pah!"

Harry's lips twitched into a smile at her irritability. He'd have been angry too in her position.

"So she didn't let you go into any of the tombs?"

"Only the ones that the curse breakers have already cleared, and even then only if Bill went with us."

"Your oldest brother? The one that works for Gringotts?" Harry asked, inwardly wondering why anyone would want to work for the little bastards.

"That's him." Ginny confirmed.

"What kind of claim do the _goblins_ have on the tombs of humans?" He asked further, perplexed.

"Errr..." Ginny stammered, stumped by the question.

"It's part of the treaty they have with the ICW." Luna offered dreamily.

"The ICW gave them free access to the resting places of long dead Egyptian wizards?" Harry asked sceptically.

"The Egyptian tombs hadn't been discovered yet when the treaty was signed. That specific clause of the treaty gives them ownership of any place where the magical dead were interred as long as it is over two thousand years old. Rather short-sighted of them in retrospect, but that's what you get when you don't protect yourself from buzzing grox pixies." The blonde girl explained.

"Why do you even know that?" Ginny wondered, ignoring the mention of yet another potentially imaginary creture with the ease of practice.

"Oh, I've known about the dangers of grox pixies for years." Luna explained.

"Not that! Why do you know so much about some treaty between the goblins and the ICW from hundreds of years ago?"

"Daddy and I were doing research on Egypt to see if we might find any crumple-horned snorkacks there, but it seems that our original thinking was correct instead. They prefer colder climes, which must mean that they have fur."

Harry was a bit confused as to how Luna and her father intended to find a crumple-horned snorkack if they were still guessing about the creature's appearance.

"Luna, how can you even be sure that snorkacks have crumpled horns?" He asked just for the sake of his curiousity.

"Oh, we aren't, but it makes sense." Luna answered cheerfully. "After all, if they didn't have crumpled horns, then they wouldn't be _crumple-horned_ snorkacks."

Harry exchanged a glance with Ginny, both of them silently agreeing that the circular logic was as childish as it was unassailable and decided to drop the subject.

"Sooo, what else did you see in Egypt?" He asked, shifting the conversation back to his main interest.

Ginny was more than happy to talk about her holiday, her crush on the black haired boy still not fully gone, especially since he seemed to be going in the 'tall, dark and handsome' direction.

As he listened to the redhead describing the magical side of Egypt, Harry became ever more determined to see it for himself one day.

Unlike the Weasleys however, he wasn't inclined to only see the goblin approved areas. How hard could it be to slip past the ornery midgets?

XXXXX

The three of them continued to have a sporadic conversation for another few hours, intersped with some reading when Ginny brought up something she'd been skirting around ever since she got on the train.

"Did you hear about Sirius Black escaping Azkaban?"

"No, but I did read about it." Luna replied, looking up from her upside down copy of the Quibbler.

"What about it?" Harry asked, deciding not to respond to Luna's little witticism.

"Aren't you worried?" Ginny asked nervously. "I mean...he was You-Know-Who's right hand man and responsible for...you know."

"The death of my parents?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, inwardly scoffing at the notion.

"Yeah." Ginny said quietly.

"Not really." Harry shrugged. "If he's smart, then he's already left the country."

He didn't really believe that though. The picture that Charlus and Dorea had painted of Sirius Black was of a man that thought with his heart rather than his head and that was assuming that he was still sane, which was far from guaranteed. The only mystery were the man's goals.

The train slowed and jerked to a stop at that point, halting the conversation in the process.

"Why are we stopping?" Ginny asked, knowing that they couldn't possibly be at their destination yet. The Express arrived at Hogwarts in the evening and it was still afternoon. A dark and stormy afternoon, but afternoon nonetheless.

Harry knew this just as well as her and went to look out the window in an attempt to divine the cause of their stop.

"It's getting cold." Luna said quietly, her breath misting.

Harry had noticed that too, but he was far more worried about something else. His constant practice with wandless magic had given him a sensitivity towards ambient magic that he was quite sure most people didn't have. Whatever was causing the temperature to plummet was definitely not natural, but it didn't feel like any magic he'd ever sensed either.

He had scoffed at the notion of magic being divided between Dark and Light ever since the first time he'd heard that there was a class called Defense Against the Dark Arts. It seemed far too much like some idiot's justification for villifying magic they didn't like rather than anything that had a basis in reality. The only way he could describe how this unnatural cold felt however, was capital-D _Dark_.

"There's something moving out there." He said, noticing the dark shapes flitting through the sky, apparently unbothered by the rain and the wind.

"It's the dementors." Luna said faintly, now hugging her legs to her chest.

"But the dementors aren't supposed to leave Azkaban." Ginny protested.

"Nobody is supposed to escape Azkaban either." Luna argued, a note of distress in her tone that her voice didn't usually carry.

"They've boarded the train." Harry interjected grimly, reaching for his wand. He wasn't sure what good it would do in this situation, but it was better than cowering helplessly in a corner.

"How can you tell?" Ginny asked fearfully.

That was a good question that Harry didn't really have an answer for. He hadn't seen them do it, but the sense of _Dark_ felt much closer now and had split off into several distinct blobs.

He was not liking this whatsoever. The cold was more than just a drop of temperature, it felt as if the very warmth of the world was being leeched away, bringing with it a powerful but unnatural fear and depression. His grip tightened around his wand. He'd never much cared for it as anything other than a crutch until he could easily use magic without it, but right now the echo of a phoenix's magic within the feather it held was comforting.

The closest dementor finally reached their compartment, bringing with it the cold and the Dark. It was close enough now to begin affecting their minds much more strongly.

Luna and Ginny both had the misfortune of having some pretty bad memories, Ginny from last year and Luna from the day that she saw her mother die. Both of them had already retreated as far into the compartment as was physically possible and buried their heads into their knees in a vain attempt to block out the memories that came flooding back to the forefront of their minds, some of which they'd blocked out.

Harry had also backed up gainst the window, but was shakily aiming his wand towards the door, somehow knowing that the thing outside it wasn't intending to just pass by as it had all the other compartments.

He was proven right as it slowly pulled open the door and began to glide in.

Harry wasn't spared the misery and memory inducing effects of the dementor any more than the girls, but he did have the advantage of having come to terms with them already. Yes, the memory of his mother's murder was pretty terrible, but he'd seen it a year ago already and put it behind him. He would have liked to have parents, but he'd stopped pining for them a long time ago. Similarly, the memories of his life with the Dursleys and in the orpahange were far from pleasant, but not debilitatingly horrible even with the dementor augmenting them.

He was no keener to have the soul sucking creature coming any closer to him than any other sane person though and sent a powerful gout of flame at it.

The fire guttered out before it could hit the dementor, the draining effect of its aura snuffing out the magic behind it harmlessly.

Starting to get a little desperate to stop the thing from advancing, Harry sent a cutting curse at it. He saw it hit, but there was no effect. It was like his spell had simply vanished, its cutting edge without meaning.

The dementor was well into the compartment by now and Harry was starting to panic. He didn't know any spells that were guaranteed to be useful and he probably couldn't muster the focus necessary even if he did, so he resorted to desperate measures. That being that when in doubt, explosions were usually a solution.

He cast the most powerful blasting curse that he could manage, knowing it was a terrible idea even as he did it. The few feet of distance between him and the dementor was not even close to the recommended minimum for casting any kind of explosive spell. If it worked, it was entirely likely to kill everything in the compartment except the dementor itself.

The spell rocketed out of his wand, the magic frayed and barely formed due to his lack of focus, but powerful all the same.

The dementor was struck center mass, but there was no explosion. The only thing Harry felt was his magic vanishing into the depthless sense of Dark exuded by the creature in the same way as his previous spells, as well as the warmth of the world and the happiness in peoples minds.

Then it was on top of him, its cadaverous fingers griping his head and turning it upwards into the shadows of the hood.

Harry once again heard the screaming of his mother, but it seemed to come from a great distance. His magic felt as if it was freezing, however little sense that made. The runes scattered across his body, where magic was infused into flesh, became so cold that the skin turned blue in seconds. The four organs that he'd runically enhanced over the summer were similarly affected, though much more severely.

But none of that mattered when the Dark was so close.

XXXXX

Albus Dumbledore looked on as Poppy finished working on his most important student, feeling deeply concerned.

It hadn't escaped his notice that Harry was incongruously large for his age. A growth spurt was nothing odd, but the one that Harry was having stretched credulity. Neither James nor Lily had been exceptonally tall people after all, so their son's current size was quite unusual.

He'd been hoping for an excuse to give Harry a thorough medical examination for a while, but this wasn't what he'd had in mind. The strange situation with the owls would have sufficed. Harry nearly losing his soul to a dementor was something he'd have preferred to avoid, convenient though it was as far as excuses went. He had barely been able to keep the information from reaching the ears of the Ministry. The last thing anyone needed right now was for Cornelius to come blustering in and making a bigger mess of things. It was a good thing that Remus had been nearby to drive the dementor away.

"How is he doing, Poppy?" He asked when the Hogwarts matron approached him.

"Still unconscious but stable." She said with a tired sigh. "It's almost like the dementor was trying to freeze him solid. If his lungs, liver, kidneys and intestines had gotten any colder, they would have formed ice crystals and killed him. It was a near thing as it was, my spells didn't work as well as they should, but his body fortunately seemed to recover on its own. I've never seen the like of it, but I've never heard of anyone coming so close to losing their soul and surviving either."

"Will there be any permanent consequences to young Harry?"

"I couldn't say." Poppy replied with a frown. "The organs I mentioned are still saturated with his magic and operating at a much higher level than normal. He also has a similar but less pronounced effect across the rest of his body."

"Thank you, Poppy." The old wizard said with a smile. "When do you think he will wake up? I need to speak to him."

"He needs rest, Headmaster." Poppy said with disapproval.

"It will not take long." Dumbledore assured her.

XXXXX

Harry was mildly surprised when he opened his eyes. Given what his last few memories were, he should be dead. Oddly enough, there was absolutely no emotion attached to his near death experience. He felt the same as if he'd just realized that water was wet.

 _This must be the Hogwarts Infirmary._ He'd never been here before, but only a place of healing could be so obnoxiously white. He'd never understood the reasoning behind that. _I don't think I like it much._

"Good evening, Harry." Came the voice of Dumbledore from nearby.

"Is it?" Harry wondered.

"I suppose it could have been better." The old wizard conceded. "Dementors do tend to ruin one's day."

"There was so much Dark." Harry murmured, mostly to himself.

"I am sorry that you had to go through that, Harry." Dumbledore sighed regretfully.

Harry wasn't really upset about it. He wasn't sure if that was because of the strangely trance-like state he was currently in, or because he'd actually found the Dark strangely comforting in his last moments of consciousness. When the biting cold and grotesque appearance of the dementor had ceased to matter, it had been beautiful in its own way. He had been ready to sink into it and let it have him forever.

"Minister Fudge insisted on a dementor presence despite my objections." The old man went on, oblivious to Harry's thoughts.

"To search for Sirius Black." The much younger wizard said with certainty.

"Yes."

"They won't find him." If he'd slipped past them in Azkaban, then he would certainly have little trouble doing it in the open.

"I agree, but the Ministry unfortunately does not."

"Of course it doesn't, it wouldn't be the government if it wasn't both stupid _and_ incompetent." Harry said, finally starting to shake off the strange lethargy.

"That is a very cynical viewpoint for someone so young." Dumbledore commented.

"I've found that I prefer to be cynical and occasionally wrong than idealistic and constantly disappointed." Harry retorted, sitting up on the bed and grabbing his wand from the nearby table. "What happened after I passed out?"

"Professor Lupin arrived just in time to drive off the dementor."

"Lupin?" Harry asked sharply, recognizing the name of one of his parents supposed friends.

"Am I to take it that you know of him already?" Dumbledore asked shrewdly.

"I've heard of him." Harry said with a shrug, inwardly cursing his own reaction. There was no need to inform the old meddler what he knew and what he didn't.

"The dementor affected you most severely, my boy. I don't suppose you know why?" Dumbledore asked, changing the subject when he saw that Harry had no intention of talking about it. He didn't want to come off as overly pushy and alienate him.

Harry remembered the way that his runes had burned with cold fire in the dementor's presence. As far as he understood it, a wizard's magic was not physically part of their body, so it was no doubt having magic bound to so closely his body that had caused the effect.

Not that he was going to volunteer that information.

"I don't know." He lied. "Frankly, I'm more interested in why it attacked me specifically."

Dumbledore wasn't entirely convinced that he wasn't being lied to. The strange way that the boy's magic was infused into his body and some of his organs did not look like anything he'd ever seen before, nor did it look natural. A wizard's magic simply did not work that way normally.

More to the point, Harry's body appeared to be...too old. It was something of a sketchy assessment since there were no spells that determined the age of a person, but Madam Pomfrey's examination as well as the one he'd performed before the boy had woken up pointed to a level of maturity of someone in their mid teens.

There was an off chance that it had somehow occured naturally, but it was far more likely to be the result of something that Harry had done to himself.

He was terribly curious about it, but once again decided not to push. He needed Harry to trust him, and he'd learned a long time ago that asking uncomfortable questions did not inspire trust.

"I see. Should you should ever discover the cause, I would appreciate it if you would indulge an old man's curiosity. It is not often that I encounter something new."

That would hopefully let Harry know that he did not intend to judge and could possibly even help. If the boy was half as smart as he suspected, then he would catch the implication. It was crucial that the boy see him as a mentor, and for that to happen, Dumbledore had to act like one.

"Of course, sir." Harry lied with a smile, swinging his legs out of the bed. It hadn't escaped his notice that Dumbledore had neglected to answer his implied question about why the dementor had attacked him.

"Madam Pomfrey will be most upset if you leave the infirmary without her permission." The old wizard said, seeing that the boy was intent on leaving.

"That's too bad, but I feel fine and I'm not staying in bed just to make her feel better."

"It is unfortunate that I still need to speak to Poppy about something." Dumbledore said, also getting on his feet, completely unphased by the boy's surly attitude. He didn't much like being a patient either. "I hope that you will not use this opportunity to sneak to Ravenclaw tower while her attention is elsewhere."

Harry raised an eyebrow as the elderly wizard walked off towards the healer's office and then shrugged. If Dumbledore wanted to give him a distraction while he escaped, then that was fine with him.

XXXXX

"Harry!"

The shout greeted him almost as soon as he entered the Ravenclaw common room, attracting the attention of several of the upper years as well.

Ginny all but smashed into him in her eagerness to give him a hug, which Harry returned awkwardly for a moment before gently pushing her away.

"Hello Harry." Luna greeted much more calmly, though it was obvious to anyone who knew her that she was relieved to see him.

"Hi."

"What happened to you?" Ginny all but demanded. "The dementors were pretty hard on me and Luna, but you looked like you'd frozen to death! They had to portkey you to the infirmary."

Harry's eyebrows went up at that. He hadn't known that bit.

"Nearly having your soul sucked out is apparently bad for your health." He joked.

"No doubt." Luna agreed. "Would you be willing to speak about your near-soulless experience in an interview with the Quibbler?"

"That's not funny." Ginny scolded, glaring at them both.

"Err...sure, Luna. We can do it tomorrow." Harry offered, quirking a smile at Ginny's even more pronounced scowl.

He couldn't help but find the whole thing a bit ridiculous. Both Luna and Ginny were a bit on the petite side, which meant that he now towered over them by a considerable margin. Even if he was only a year older than them, it was sometimes hard not to feel like he was hanging around kids that were three or four years younger than him, especially in light of the things he'd been up to during the summer.

"Alright there, Harry?"

The question was accompanied by a hand on his shoulder and he turned to look at the year's Head Girl, Penelope Clearwater. He noted with some shock that the girl who had occasionally come to talk to him back in first year was now actually a shade shorter than him. Granted, Penelope was not prodigiously tall by any stretch, but it was still a bit of a surprise to find himself looking down at someone that had been nearly two feet taller than him only a couple of years ago.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He replied after a moment, giving the girl a smile. It was much easier to be confident around people when you weren't looking up at them.

"Good." Penelope said with a nod, returning his smile. "Try to stay away from the dementors in the future, yeah?"

"I'll try, I'd certainly prefer to kiss girls than dementors." Harry joked.

The Head Girl gave a short laugh, accompanied by a small blush at what could be taken as flirting if you squinted.

"Even _I_ 'd rather get kissed by a girl than a dementor." She joked back, inwardly very pleased at how different he was from the anti-social boy that he'd been in his first year. She'd always felt that Harry was trying too hard to isolate himself back then and it was gratifying to see that he'd loosened up a bit. She had no idea what had caused him to be so prickly with people when he'd started Hogwarts and she wasn't going to ask, but she did like to think that she'd helped him move past it.

"I can kiss you if you want." Luna offered out of the blue.

The joking mood screeched to a halt at Luna's words, everyone trying to figure out if she was serious or not.

"Is she joking or not? I can't tell." Penelope eventually asked, giving up on figuring it out.

"No idea, I can never tell either." Harry shrugged, being less affected due to experience.

"I'm as serious as a crumple-horned snorkack." Luna said firmly.

 _Which tells us nothing._ Harry thought wryly, giving Penelope another shrug when she looked to him for clarification.

"Right." The Head Girl said after a moment, deciding to just ignore the small blonde's strangeness. "You three had better head off to bed, it's past your usual curfew already."

XXXXX

Penny had felt the assessing gazes of several other girls on her ever since Harry's appearance in the common room. It wasn't the first time that this had happened. Curious students had seen her talking to him before and had wanted to know what he was like since the boy tended to avoid social contact.

It felt a bit different this time though.

"So, Penny….." Opened up Bryanna Torres, a dark haired, blue eyed seventh year whose slightly olive skin tone betrayed a hint of medditeranean ancestry a few generations back. "….We saw you talking to Potter."

"Yeah, so?" Penny returned cautiously.

She and Bryanna had never really gotten along too well, the other girl possessing a cunning and ambition that should have by all rights landed her in Slytherin, as well as a beauty that drew many a boy's attention, whereas Penny was fairly plain and straightforward. Not that they were enemies or anything like that, but they hadn't really interacted since third year, when Bryanna had started moving in completely different social circles.

"He's looking pretty good." The other girl noted, too casually to be real.

And with that sentence Penny realized what Bryanna was aiming at.

It wouldn't be the first time that an ambitious girl from a Common House like Bryanna had targeted the younger Heir of a Noble House in an attempt to increase her own status.

It _could_ theoretically happen the other way around as well, but it was much less likely. Witches, even those not of main Noble lines, were guarded far more carefully against that sort of thing. That had taken a while for Penny to wrap her mind around, being a muggleborn as she was. The Wizarding World's only definition for rape was a violent and/or magically compelled man-on-woman assault, which seemed especially strange to her with an equalizer like magic being present. Anyone proposing the idea of statutory rape to magicals received only baffled looks, as if the mere concept was lunacy. Even slipping someone love or lust potions was a legal grey area.

It was frankly astonishing that it happened as little as it did, though Penny knew that might simply be her ignorance on the subject.

The reason for Bryanna's sudden interest in Harry was unlikely to be his looks, but rather his money and status. His youth would only make him a more tempting target because it would leave him vulnerable. Heirs of Noble Houses weren't normally subjected to this kind of thing because they had parents who could easily ruin a girl's family and future in the Wizarding World for attempting to install herself as the future Lady of a Noble House in such a manner.

Harry had no parents to protect him however.

"He's only thirteen, Bryanna." She said disapprovingly in an attempt to get the other girl to back off.

"Funny, he doesn't _look_ thirteen." Bryanna countered with a smirk, abandoning subtlety since it was obvious that her intentions had been guessed.

Penny had noticed that, it was in all honesty hard not to, but it didn't change the fact that Harry Potter _was_ thirteen and thus entirely too young to be dealing with the advances of a girl four years his senior.

The problem was that she couldn't even go to anyone about this.

Professor Flitwick was a great teacher, but he was part goblin and had certain goblin sensibilities. A refusal to meddle in other people's issues being one of them.

Headmaster Dumbledore would just wave it off like he waved off everything. For all the respect that Penny had for the aged wizard, he tended to be extremely hands off. Snape was a good example.

McGonagall would simply refer her to Dumbledore.

Even if she _could_ have gone to anyone about it, it would make her a lot of enemies in Ravenclaw that could make her life very difficult for the rest of the year.

What a mess. She'd just have to warn Harry and hope for the best, which Bryanna was probably expecting her to do anyway. Hopefully her ambitious fellow Ravenclaw was overestimating her own appeal.

Bryanna spent another twenty minutes attempting to get information on Harry out of her, but Penny was for once glad to be fairly clueless. The green-eyed boy was not exactly liberal with information on himself, so she had little to go on. It wouldn't stop them of course, but it wasn't going to be as easy as they'd hoped.


	7. Chapter 7

**Nothing much to say up here this time, except to give credit to Joe lawyer for his excellent beta-ing skillz.**

XXXXX

 _Among the myriad of Dark Creatures in the world, none are as foul as the dementor. Their origins are unknown, though it is speculated that they form in places of great suffering, though it is equally likely that it is the other way around and that it is their presence that makes a place miserable. There are records of their presence in other locales around Europe, but Azkaban is the only place that one may reliably find a dementor in recent times._

 _Several Dark Lords have been able to rally them to their cause over the centuries. Many a Dark Wizard has also lost their soul in the attempt, making any attempted alliance with them a dangerous undertaking._

 _Classified as a Non-Being, the dementor is not truly alive and thus cannot truly die. The Patronus Charm is the only spell known to have any effect on them and it is also by means of this spell that the British Ministry of Magic keeps control of the creatures. Though even the strongest Patroni will not destroy a dementor, it appears to cause them enough discomfort or even what passes for pain that they can be threatened with it._

 _The exact level of intelligence possesed by dementors is unknown, but is presumed to be fairly close to sapience, as they are able to understand speech and recognize certain individuals._

Harry closed the book and stared at it thoughtfully. It had contained far less information on dementors than he'd hoped, but the mention of the Patronus Charm was certainly useful. He would make it his business to learn that particular spell as soon as possible.

Being helpless as the soul sucking abomination advanced on him was not an experience he cared to repeat.

Unfortunately, the book offered no hints as to why it had targeted him in particular. There was a chance that he, Ginny and Luna simply had more traumatic pasts that the other students, but there was no way to verify that short of interrogating all of Hogwarts and there was no guarantee that it was even the reason for the dementor's keen interest in him.

The entire incident had also raised several other questions in his mind that he would now very much like to have answered.

What was a soul? How was it connected to his magic? Why had the dementor's presence frozen his magic? What was the Dark?

Unsettling as the near death experience had been, it had also posed so many fascinating questions about magic and revealed truths that he had previously scoffed at. He now knew with absolute certainty that there was indeed something Dark about magic, which likely meant that there was also Light. He still strongly doubted the popular interpretation of it, but he could no longer discount the entire concept.

His own experiences with the capricious nature of his runes made him equally wary of both. For all that people liked to equate good with Light and Dark with evil, Harry suspected that neither was particularly benign when meddled with.

XXXXX

Harry observed Lupin carefully as the man lectured the class on the subject of boggarts, wondering what to make of him.

According to Charlus and Dorea, Lupin had been a dear friend of his parents, but a few things simply did not add up.

He had no memories of him ever being over for a visit before Voldemort had attacked the Potter home, unlike Sirius and Pettigrew. Furthermore, unlike those two, Lupin had been neither imprisoned nor dead, and yet he had never come to check on the son of his dead friends.

Even assuming that he hadn't known where Harry was, it had been two years now since his return to the Wizarding World. Surely the man could have dropped by? Stranger still, he hadn't even attempted to approach Harry since the school year had begun. The whole dementor thing would have been a perfect excuse, but Lupin seemed content to pretend that Harry was just another student to him.

All around strange behavior for someone that was supposed to have been a very close friend of his parents.

"Who wants to go first?"

The question knocked Harry out of his thoughts as the class formed a line in a sort of ordered chaos.

Most of his classmates had understandable fears, that being all sorts of monsters. There was one Hufflepuff girl whose name Harry couldn't recall that had a giant carnivorous tomato for some bizzare reason though.

Everyone was generally able to turn their fear into something funny and laugh at the transformed boggart, which got Harry to thinking again.

He'd come across the boggart while researching dementors a few days ago and had been puzzled. It was a Non-Being just like the soul sucking monsters currently haunting every entrance into Hogwarts, but a decidedly more benign one. Little more than a pest really, as the only conceivable way for a boggart to actually hurt someone was through shock induced heart attack or maybe scaring someone off a ledge.

Yet for all of that, Harry could still feel a little piece of Dark from the shape shifter. It was tiny in comparison to the dementor on the train, but it was definitely there. Fascinating.

He knew what he would see once his turn came up. Aside from a few memorable occasions of nearly traumatising himself with a horror themed video game back when he'd been nine, there was only one thing that came to mind when he thought of his fears.

The boggart transformed into a perfect copy of the dementor from the train, but it was not nearly as frightening. It could change its form all it wanted, but it could not replicate the same sense of Dark. He wasn't afraid of the dementor's outer sppearance so much as he was of what it represented, which was not something that could be faked.

He was shocked however, when he began to feel a familiar misery seep into his mind, ignoring _Aul'El_ and his Occlumency like they were nothing just like the dementor had done. Similarly, he felt a weak chill in his runes and a more intangible chill in his magic. It wasn't even close to being as powerful, but the mere fact that it could replicate even a tiny speck of a true dementor's power implied all sorts of interesting things.

Lupin jumped in front of him then, perhaps mistaking his surprised staring at the boggart for paralyzing fear.

The boggart instantly transformed into the silvery sphere of a full moon, which Lupin quickly turned into a balloon and sent fluttering away.

What a strange thing to be afraid of.

XXXXX

Remus sighed heavily once the third year Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff class left the room, taking with it the son of his friends.

He had no idea what to do about Harry.

He had never seen the boy as a baby, they had already started pushing him away by then, suspecting him of being a spy for Voldemort.

He understood their reasoning. He was a werewolf and werewolves had been Voldemort's allies during the war. The Ministry and its oppressive werewolf legislation made sure of that, though Fenrir Greyback would have undoubtedly allied with him either way. It didn't make the experience any less bitter for Remus though, who would have died for his friends in a heartbeat.

James, Sirius, Peter and later Lily had been the closest thing to pack that non-werewolves could be, and they had cast him out. For all that Remus tried his hardest to suppress and deny the beast within, he could not do it completely. From that place inside his soul where the wolf resided most of the time, it had howled its grief and fury at being so betrayed.

When Harry was born, Remus had been in Germany, ostensibly speaking to the werewolves there about a possible alliance with the Order of the Phoenix or at least staying neutral. In retrospect it had been to get him away from Britain and any possible information that he could have passed on to Voldemort.

When James and Lily had been killed a year later, he'd still been in Germany, though he had long since stopped talking to the werewolves there. He'd grown rather bitter and resentful of the suspicion everyone had of him and decided to simply not go back to Britain if that's how they were going to be. Their deaths, Peter's death and Sirius' betrayal had hit him hard despite the gulf that had grown between them and he'd never mustered the will to go back.

Then came Dumbledore's letter, asking him to teach DADA in Hogwarts. It was a job that he'd never dreamed he'd be able to have with his condition, but he had still been hesitant to return to Britain. The werewolf laws in Germany were better than in Britain. Not by much, but enough that he had been able to keep a job. Not a great or enjoyable job, but a job that allowed him to eat and have a roof over his head.

But he owed Dumbledore a lot and he had always wanted to teach, so he had come back despite his misgivings and now he was faced with Lily's eyes looking out from James' face, both of them too old to belong on a thirteen year old.

Dumbledore had been stingy on the details of Harry's life when questioned, which Remus figured was a ploy to make him actually talk to the boy himself.

But it was so hard. What was he supposed to say to the son of the people who had been like family to him? Family that had cast him out, but who he had still loved.

XXXXX

 _Dinner time in the Great Hall._

"Hey, Potter! I heard you nearly wet yourself in front of a boggart yesterday."

Harry sighed at the continued idiocy of one Draco Malfoy. The blond Slytherin hadn't stopped trying to mock him over the dementor incident on the train since the start of term and had apparently gotten a second wind upon hearing that his boggart was also a dementor.

"I'd like to see what you'd be like in front of a dementor, Malfoy!" Ginny retorted angrily, face beginning to flush with the well known temper of redheads everywhere. "From what Fred and George told me, you ran into their compartment and all but begged them to protect you from it on the train."

"Shut your mouth, Weaslette!" Malfoy shouted at her, his own pale face developing a few blotches of red.

"Excellent comeback, Malfoy. That sure proved her wrong." Harry said dryly, finding the blond idiot's taunts tiresome at best. The whole experience had gotten so repetitive that not even his runes could be bothered to prickle. It was kind of like constantly being bothered by a yippy little dog.

Malfoy's anger swelled further at the dismissive tone. He _loathed_ being brushed off and that was exactly what Potter had been doing ever since first year, treating him like he didn't even matter. Aside from that one incident at the start of second year when he'd thrown a goblet at his face that was.

"It's too bad the dementor didn't Kiss all three of you and remove some of the filth from the world." He snarled furiously.

There was a series of gasps from the Ravenclaws around them, shocked that he would say something like that.

Harry was unphased though, having been exposed to the internet for years and having many an angry twelve year old threaten to fuck his mother or worse. The fact that he had been ten at the time only served to make him feel more mature than his age warranted.

"I could say the same about you and your pet apes, but I won't. But I could."

Draco managed to look even more constipated at Harry's lack of reaction and opened his mouth to say something else when he was beaten to the punch.

During this entire time, Luna had been focusing on her food to the exclusion of all else, but now that her mashed potatoes were shaped like a castle with a little gravy moat, the conversation going on around her finally penetrated her focus.

"Draco? When did you get here?"

Her polite question had the Malfoy scion spluttering in pure rage, believing that he was being mocked by the crazy second year, who was clearly acting like he was so unimportant as to be beneath her notice.

An understandable assumption, but completely wrong. Luna had simply been putting a lot of effort into her potato castle.

The perceived insult had him reaching for his wand, though he wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do with it yet.

"Malfoy!" A different female voice cut into the action. "Ten points from Slytherin and detention for drawing your wand on another student."

"How dare you?!" Draco yelled at her at the top of his lungs, outraged well past the point of reason. The nerve of the mudblood to give him a detention!

"I quite agree with Ms. Clearwater, Mr. Malfoy." Flitwick chimed in from where he'd approached behind the Slytherin. "Drawing a wand on another student outside of a classroom and without the supervision of a professor is a serious offense."

"When my father hears about this….." Draco seethed, putting his wand away and stomping off.

Harry shook his head in disbelief at the antics of the blond idiot. If there was anything that proved that the Sorting Hat could be convinced to sort according to a student's wishes, it was Malfoy's placement in Slytherin. The boy was clearly a Gryffindor.

He raised his goblet of water towards Penny in a mocking sort of toast for helping to get rid of the pest, exchanging amused smiles with her. No doubt the muggleborn Head Girl had taken her own measure of enjoyment in smacking down the uppity pureblood.

His eyes went further up the table towards the seventh year girl that she had warned him about, seeing her already looking at him. Deciding to be a bit adventurous, he winked at her.

Bryanna's eyebrows shot up in surprise before a smirk stretched across her face. This might be easier than she'd thought.

"Did you just wink at that seventh year?" Ginny demanded in a harsh whisper.

"So what if I did?" He asked back, not liking her tone. If Bryanna was going to do what he suspected she was going to do, then he fully intended to take advantage of the situation and shag her silly. If Ginny couldn't deal with that, then they were going to have a problem.

Taken aback by the confrontational response, Ginny quickly backpedaled. "Uh, nothing…I just, uh, wanted to know why."

That had to be the worst lie that Harry had ever heard, but he didn't call her out on it. He wasn't interested in dealing with Ginny's crush on him and felt more certain that he would never feel the same with every day. She just felt too much like a kid to him for that, even if he was only a year older than her. His accelerated growth was making a mess of his personal relationships, making him too old in physical maturity to fit in with his peers but too young in years to fit in with those older than him. He was doing his best to ignore that bit of discomfort since he knew that there was nothing he could do about it, but he was poignantly aware of it. The last time that he'd felt truly comfortable around another person had been with Zoe, which said a lot about the situation considering their arrangement.

"I just felt like it." He told her, his tone making it clear that the subject was closed.

The redhead went into a sulky silence and started pushing around the food on her plate, appetite gone at being shut down like that.

Luna stared at Harry and started blinking furously.

"Luna, what are you doing?" He asked, looking at her strangely.

"I'm winking at you because I feel like it." She replied, still blinking furiously.

"That's blinking, not winking." He informed her.

"No Harry, it's definitely winking." She insisted.

"Winking is only done with one eye." He reasoned.

"This is double winking."

A laugh burbled up Harry's throat at the ridiculosuness of it all, leaving him chuckling into his goblet for quite a while, made worse by the fact that Luna was still _double winking_ at him like she had something to prove.

"Don't ever change, Luna. Don't ever change." He told her, still chuckling. Whether she had done it on purpose or not, the slightly irritable mood that Ginny had put him in was gone now.

XXXXX

There were two spells that Harry felt he needed to learn as soon as possible.

The first was the standard contraceptive charm that prevented pregnancy, because of the high chance of getting laid. It had once seen some fairly widespread use, but had since been phased out in favor of a potion that needed to be taken once a month.

Both had to be applied to the woman, which presented something of a problem for Harry. He would have honestly preferred a spell or potion that would simply make him infertile for a while, but it apparently didn't exist. Not that he would trust a potion to work on him with his most recent set of runes, but it was the principle of the thing.

He was incredibly grateful for the fact that Zoe had insisted on a condom despite being on the pill. The possibility of getting a girl pregnant at his age made him queasy just thinking about it. He was nowhere near ready to be a father.

He was probably just overthinking it, as both the spell and potion were highly reliable, but he still would have liked to have the extra security.

The second was the Patronus, the reason for which was obvious. The dementors floating around the castle made him nervous.

It was a rather interesting spell with the way it needed to be charged with a happy emotion and there was an extra tidbit of knowledge on the dementors in the description as well.

Apparently, the reason why the Patronus was effective against them was because it was a purely positive force that couldn't feel despair. It was anathema to them. The book didn't explain how a Patronus avoided falling prey to the dementor's ability to nullify other spells, but Harry figured that there was something about the emotion charged into it that blocked that ability.

It was also a very difficult spell because it took some seriously powerful happy thoughts to form it properly. This was a problem, because Harry couldn't think of anything like that off the top of his head. His life was comfortable and pleasant aside from a few irritants like Malfoy, Snape and his foster parents, but it had no outstanding moments of happiness either.

The happiest thing he could think of on short notice was the time he'd spent with Zoe, but he somehow doubted that the memory of a fun day and the physical pleasure that followed would cut it. Still worth a try, but Harry wasn't holding his breath on it.

"That's some pretty advanced magic you're studying."

Harry jumped slightly at the unexpected voice, having been so deeply absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed anyone coming up behind him.

"Sorry if I scared you, I just couldn't help noticing that you were studying the Patronus Charm." Bryanna said with a smile, taking a seat next to him. "Dementors making you nervous?"

"You could say that." Harry replied, wondering what her angle was. Coming up to him and starting up a conversation like this was more than a bit odd considering their lack of previous interaction, but he was willing to play along with it for now.

"Me too, I can't believe that Fudge thinks posting those monsters around a school is a good idea." Bryanna commented.

"He must be pretty worried about Black." Harry responded noncommittally. Everything he'd heard about the current Minister of Magic made him out to be something of a buffoon, but he wasn't going to share that opinion just yet.

"I'm surprised that _you_ aren't."

"I've got a feeling that I'm in a lot more danger from the dementors than from Black." He said wryly.

"You're probably right about that." Bryanna agreed. "Any luck learning the Patronus?"

"I haven't gotten around to attempting it yet." Harry told her honestly.

"Want to give it a try together?" She asked with a smile. "Hogwarts doesn't teach that spell and I'd like to know it just in case."

Harry looked at her speculatively for a few seconds, wondering if she was seriously intending to act like this conversation had happened by mere chance. Eventually he just shrugged and agreed to her suggestion. She seemed smart and her desire to learn the Patronus was probably genuine even if she was using it as a pretense to get close to him, so having her along might help with learning the spell at least with the aid of a wand.

XXXXX

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

The problem, Harry decided, was definitely mustering together enough happiness on demand to cast the spell.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

Not to mention that the book had not been particularly heavy on the details. Was the type of happiness important? Could a sadist conjure a Patronus by thinking of all the people he'd tortured?

" _EXPECTO PATRONUM!_ "

It seemed unlikely that such a twisted form of happiness would work. This consequently meant that the source of that happiness _had_ to be an important component. Following that train of logic, there surely had to be one or more specific types of happy memories that would work better than others.

"You know, learning the spell might work better if you actually _tried to cast it_." Bryanna said peevishly.

"I like to think about what I'm doing before waving my wand around." Harry said back, not really sparing the older Ravenclaw too much attention, making her huff.

A properly cast Patronus called a spectral guardian into existence, so it was probable that thoughts of safety would work best.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

But safety wasn't in and of itself a happy thought. Perhaps thoughts of protection? A strong guardian standing between the caster and the world, someone held close, loved and respected.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

That could be a problem if it was the case. Harry couldn't think of a single adult, or indeed anyone at all, that he would trust to protect him.

"It's not working." Bryanna said in a not-quite whine, clearly frustrated.

Well of course it wasn't. Judging by the frequency of her attempts, she was probably cycling through her memories and hoping to pick the right one by accident, or perhaps she was trying to somehow force the spell into working through sheer repetition. That kind of approach was the province of meatheaded warriors swinging around giant shafts of sharpened steel, not mages. Her frustration at the lack of success had turned into the reason for the lack of success.

 _Weren't Ravenclaws supposed to be thoughtful intellectuals that considered things carefully before acting? I guess you can't rely on stereotypes all the time._

Deciding to finally give the spell a try, Harry stopped pacing the room and drew his wand.

With a deep breath he focused on the most memorable event in his life where he'd felt like an adult could protect him. Ironically, it was a memory that the dementors seemed to enjoy bringing to mind when in his presence, that being the death of his mother at the hands of Voldemort.

Not a particularly cheerful thought, but learning of the lengths that his mother had gone to in order to protect him did bring him a measure of happiness. Deliberately setting yourself up as a sacrifice to protect someone else was the most powerful demonstration of love there was.

A silvery mist left his wand, hovering in the air for a moment before dissipating.

Bryanna stared at him in disbelief.

"How in Merlin's name did you do that? You've spent the past hour just pacing around the room and then you manage to get some results on the first try without even saying the incantation."

"Calm down, take your time and think of a memory where you feel safe and protected, then concentrate on channeling that feeling into the spell." Harry advised.

Bryanna looked dubious, but did as she was told nonetheless.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

A familiar silvery mist left her wand.

"I did it!" She exclaimed happily, jumping to give him a hug.

Harry noticed that she had rather strategically shoved his face into her breasts. They were very nice breasts, a little bigger than Zoe's if he wasn't mistaken. He felt his body respond and his runes tingle, but controlled it tightly.

"Congratulations." He told her once she let go, idly wondering how much of her current behavior was an act designed to sucker a naïve thirteen year old into developing a crush on her. She was acting somewhat differently than how Penny had described her.

"Thanks, now why don't you try it again, this time with the incantation."

"No."

"Why not?" She almost demanded. "If you were able to get a mist out without one, then you're bound to have more success if you try casting it properly."

"I'd rather put in a little extra effort to learn it silently than shout gibberish into the air." He replied dryly.

"I don't understand you at all, it's like you enjoy making things harder on yourself." She said in exasperation.

Harry wondered what she'd think of the fact that he wouldn't even be bothering with a wand if she wasn't here. She might not understand why he wanted to do things the hard way, but he didn't understand why everyone else wanted to cripple themselves by relying on their wands so much.

"Maybe I just like the challenge?" He offered with a small grin.

Bryanna looked at him oddly for a moment and then let out an amused chuckle.

"We've been here for a while, you want to get something to eat?" She asked with a brilliant smile.

Harry's stomach gurgled in agreement with the idea. It had been nearly two hours since the last time he'd eaten.

XXXXX

"….and that's when I learned that combining Arithmancy and Divination doesn't really let you accurately predict the future, especially if Divination is taught by a drunken fraud like Trelawney." Bryanna finished.

Harry hummed in agreement around a mouthful of particularly juicy carrot.

Ginny glared sullenly at the older girl, resenting her presence with the fiery wrath of an insecure preteen who was sure that the pretty seventh year was trying to catch Harry's interest and doing a far better job than she ever had.

"Are you going to put your penis in her vagina, Harry?" Luna asked dreamily.

Harry spat out the half-masticated carrot in surprise.

"What?" He croaked out.

"That's what Ginny's nargles are screaming at me."

"Well, Harry? Answer the girl, are you going to put your penis in my va~gi~na?" Bryanna sing-songed with a salacious smirk, having recovered from her surprise the fastest. The little blonde friend of Harry's was quite the character.

Though caught off guard by the bold question, Harry gamely ignored the heat creeping up his neck and looked her in the eye.

"Anything is possible."

"Truer words have never been spoken." Luna agreed, thinking of all the snorkacks that were just waiting to be discovered.

Ginny rose to her feet in a single violent motion and stomped off.

"What's her problem?" Bryanna asked, knowing perfectly well what the redhead's problem was.

"She might still be upset about not having any boobies for Harry to look at." Luna hazarded a guess.

Harry let out a weak chuckle. He had a feeling that this was going to be the event that ended the friendship between him and Ginny. He'd found the redhead annoying at times, but she _had_ become a friend. He wasn't going to change his behavior to appease her though. It wasn't like he owed her anything and this stupid crush of hers was really the thing that bothered him the most about her. She could either get over it or sulk about it, but it would be entirely on her.

XXXXX

Harry sighed despondently in his Ancient Runes class. It was just so _boring_. He'd already learned all of this on his own back in first year.

An unfair thought perhaps, since the class was no doubt pretty challenging to everyone who didn't have a two year head start, but that didn't chage the fact that he was just wasting his time here. He'd had the same problem in Artihmancy, except worse since he'd needed to study that one even more in depth for his rituals.

"Mr. Potter, stay behind please." Professor Babbling said when the class was over.

Malfoy threw him a mocking look on his way out, which Harry ignored. The blond ponce currently had his arm bandaged as if he'd been grievously injured by that hippogriff in his Care of Magical Creatures class, but everyone knew that he was faking it. Well, Parkinson seemed to be buying it and Malfoy's two pet goons probably didn't have enough brain cells between them to see it, but everyone with any sense knew that he was faking it.

According to Luna, who had heard it from Ginny, who had heard it from Ron, he was playing up the injury to make the hippogriff in question, Buckbeak, look more like a vicious monster than it actually was and get it executed. The ponce had apparently ignored Hagrid's instructions and provoked it and was now looking to get it killed in a spectacular example of pettiness. Malfoy truly did live up to the spoiled rich brat stereotype.

"I've noticed that you don't seem to be paying attention during class." Babbling commented once they were alone.

"I'm sorry, Professor. It's just that….." Harry started, not sure how to word it.

"You already know the subject matter." She finished for him.

"Yeah." He said with a nod.

"I thought this might happen." She said, rubbing her forehead in consternation. "Professor Vector tells me that it's the same with her?"

Harry simply nodded in confirmation.

This presented a problem for both Bathsheda and Septima. Both of them were rather fond of Harry, who they had gotten to know from his occasional visits over the past two years. Both of them had also been looking forward to having him in their class, but it served nobody if his time was being wasted going over things that he already knew. It wasn't often that a student came around who wanted to study ahead and they didn't want him to start resenting the time he spent in their class simply because he was too far ahead to benefit from it.

"If the opportunity were made available to you, would you want to stop attending Ancient Runes and Arithmancy and replace it with private tutoring from myself and Professor Vector?" She asked.

Harry's eyes widened at the offer. Private tutoring would allow him to accomplish more in less time, work at his preferred pace instead of the one set for a class of wildly different ability and actually make progress instead of waiting for everyone else to catch up to him.

"That would be perfect."

It was kind of funny actually. He'd never been this studious before coming to Hogwarts. But then again, he hadn't been learning magic back then either.

"I will need to speak to the Headmaster about this arrangement, but I don't foresee any problems." Bathsheda said, feeling that she'd made the right decision by making him this offer.

It would give both her and Septima some extra work, but they felt that it was worth it. Neither of their classes often got a student that seemed to have a genuine passion for their respective subjects and they were terribly reluctant to slow him down to the pace of the others.

XXXXX

"Harry, could I talk to you in private for a moment?" Ginny asked awkwardly.

Harry was somewhat surprised that the redhead had actually approached him. She'd been avoiding contact with him for a couple of weeks now, ever since that one time that Bryanna had joined them for lunch.

He knew that Luna had tried to play mediator and get Ginny out of whatever funk she'd worked herself into, but there hadn't been any apparent success.

"Alright." He said with a shrug and followed her to an out of the way room that looked like it hadn't been used in forever.

"I've been talking to some people…." Ginny started, her voice full of conviction. "Harry, that seventh year is just trying to get her hands on your money or take advantage of your fame."

Harry stared at her incredulously for a few moments and then started laughing.

"She is!" Ginny near yelled. "Just think about it. _Why_ would a girl that old suddenly start spending time with you?"

"Ginny, I know." He said, still chuckling.

"You know?!" She blurted out incredulously. "Then why are you still hanging around her?"

"I'm waiting to see how far she's willing to go." He told her honestly.

She stared at him uncomprehendingly for a while before it dawned on her what he meant.

"You're just going along with it because you want to see her naked?!"

"Oh, I'm hoping she goes a lot further than that." Harry replied, a smirk pulling at his lips.

Ginny stared at him some more, then started to look almost heartbroken.

"What happened to you, Harry?" She asked sadly. "You didn't used to be like this."

"I believe the technical term is 'puberty'." Harry grumbled sarcastically. Why were people in the Wizarding World so surprised that he wasn't some kind of saint? Oh right, because of those fucking Harry Potter books. Even after knowing him for a year now, Ginny still occasionally made assumptions about his personality based on those. The fact that he was making money off them now was their only redeeming quality.

"Look, I know that you have a crush on me." He started, ignoring the way her face flushed at having it openly stated like that. He'd ignored it the previous year in the hope that she'd get over it herself, but enough was enough. "But nothing is ever going to come of it. I don't like you that way and I never will."

"Why not?" Ginny demanded, looking simultaneously angry and upset. "Is it because my boobs aren't big enough for the _great_ Harry Potter?"

"Essentially, yes." He said bluntly, deciding to ignore her almost Malfoy-esque insult. "You're just a kid."

"I'm only a year younger than you!" She screeched in outrage, reminding Harry poignantly of the time that her mother had sent a howler to Fred and George.

"I like older women." He retorted.

This gained him another outraged scream, though this time it was wordless and accompanied by an angry exit, complete with door slam.

Harry sighed in the empty room, wondering how this was going to play out. At least that silly crush was probably dead and buried now, Mystra be praised.

XXXXX

"So, how goes Project Potter?"

Bryanna looked back at the Slytherin seventh year who had asked the question, seeing the same curiousity in the eyes of the other two as well.

Aside from her, the group consisted of Slytherin Tiana Day, Gryffindor Jade Dawson and fellow Ravenclaw Isabel Morris.

Aside from the two Ravenclaws, they had only become friendly with each other the previous year when they began contemplating the future and finding it lacking. Inter-house rivalries had suddenly started looking petty when faced with the fact that school was coming to a close and the uncertain future that lay beyond it.

None of them had liked the conclusions they'd come to about their likely futures, from which their current plan, jokingly called 'Project Potter', had come together.

"Honestly, not as well as I'd hoped." Bryanna admitted with a sigh. "He's not the bumbling boy I expected him to be, not even close. He's still young, but he must have _some_ prior experience with women. He's too self assured around me not to."

The other girls looked both thoughtful and disgruntled by that, no doubt thinking who that experience could have been with.

"So you're saying that someone already got to him last year?" Tiana asked with a frown.

"I don't know, maybe. Either way, I don't think I'll be able to sucker him into falling for me."

"We could slip him some Amortentia." Jade suggested.

"Don't be ridiculous." The Slytherin girl snapped, continuing with a sneer that was aimed more at the situation than at the Gryffindor girl. "If it gets out that a bunch of 'commoners' dosed the Heir of a Noble House with a love potion they'll feed us to the dementors."

Left unsaid was the fact that if it happened the other way around, it would have merited a slap on the wrist at best.

"It's too bad that Clearwater wouldn't help us with this, she's been friendly with Potter since his first year." Isabel sighed.

"Clearwater's a muggleborn." Bryanna said dismissively.

"True."

They all had a muggleborn or second generation parent and had nothing against muggleborns, nor did they buy into the 'purity of magical blood' claptrap. The problem with muggleborns was that they didn't really grasp the situation in Wizarding Britain until after they left Hogwarts, by which time it was often too late. They had themselves heard it from their parents, but it hadn't truly sunk in until last year.

The old Noble Houses controlled pretty much everything; the government, the law, the money and the media. The Wizengamot was hereditary, which meant that the judicial branch of the government was also hereditary. It was in theory possible to climb the ranks in the Ministry regardless of blood status, but in practice you didn't get very far if you weren't 'the right sort' according to the purebloods that ran it or at least had a powerful patron. Not all of those Noble Houses were bigots, but there were enough of them to cause a lot of problems.

The real problem though, was money. The old Houses had it and everyone else…..didn't. Pureblood, halfblood or muggleborn, all of it was subordinate to the almighty galleon.

The Common Houses consisted of families that had been around for a few generations already, but couldn't really rise in status because the old traditionalists were doing their absolute best to keep the Wizarding World static, usually by maintaining a market monopoly and preventing any uppity Common Houses from getting as rich as them. The only simple way to actually manage a class jump was to marry into a Noble House and there weren't many Heirs that would look twice at a non-pureblood. Lily Evans had probably never quite understood what a lucky break in terms of personal status she'd caught with James Potter, though she hadn't lived long enough for it to really matter.

"Shag him." Tiana suddenly stated.

"What?" The rest of them blurted out in surprise. They were aware that it would likely progress to that point eventually, but this was a bit sudden.

"Shag him." The other girl repeated, keeping her eyes fixed on Bryanna. "If you can't manipulate your way into becoming the next Lady Potter then shagging him is the next best thing."

"I don't know, Tiana. That's a pretty extreme escalation and there's no guarantee that anything would come of it." Isabel said uncertainly.

"It's our last year here and he's the only one we can mess with safely. The only other Heirs we could try to cozy up to that wouldn't backfire on us are Longbotton and Bones. One is a nervous wreck and none of us have a cock to use on the other, not to mention that both Augusta Longbottom and Amelia Bones would destroy us if we moved on them. I'd do it myself, but I can't slip into his room at night since I'm not in Ravenclaw."

"Do you think it would work?" Bryanna asked thoughtfully.

"You can't seriously be thinking of doing this." Jade said incredulously.

"Tiana has a point, this _is_ our last year and it _is_ the best chance we'll ever have." Bryanna replied pensively.

"I think it's worth a try." Tiana interjected before any more protests to the idea could be offered. "If we wait for him to get out of Hogwarts, he'll have women throwing themselves at him left and right just because he's rich and famous, which means that we'd be just another couple of sluts looking to shag the Boy-Who-Lived. If this is going to work, we have to do it before that happens."

"That sounds a lot like whoring ourselves out." Isabel said distastefully.

"You wouldn't be the one doing it!" Tiana snapped peevishly. "You've already got a boyfriend and Jade still thinks she can get Wood to mount her without transfiguring herself into a broom-"

"Hey!" Jade protested indignantly.

"-, however unlikely that is, so she's not going to do it either. That leaves me and Bry and I'll tell you right now that I would much rather shag that boy in every single broom cupboard in this damned castle than end up like my mother, working as a low level clerk for a pureblood boss that keeps taking credit for everything she does but can barely even wipe her own arse without a house elf to help her."

Tiana took a deep breath to calm down after her rant and continued in a much calmer tone. "The fact is that wastes of space like Flint and that little shit Malfoy are going to have everything handed to them simply because inbreeding is popular in this pisshole of a country. Screwing Potter wouldn't be whoring so much as it would be….an investment into the future. Either me or Bry, or hell, even _both_ of us if we can find somewhere out of Ravenclaw tower to do it, shag him nice and lazy, talk him into investing into our little business venture while he's still blissed out and promise him a small stake in our future profits. Everybody wins and all it takes is getting a little sticky with what is actually a pretty handsome thirteen year old. If we're lucky he might even get us off."

While Isabel and Jade flushed in embarrassment like the virgins they were, Bryanna stared back at her Slytherin friend, carefully considering her arguments.

"I'll introduce you to him during the first Hogsmeade weekend."

"Both of us then?"

"Might as well. Better safe than sorry."

"And we can finish each other off if he turns out to be a disappointment?"

"There is also that, yes."

"I'll wait for you in the Three Broomsticks."

"Good, now we just have to find a room with a bed."

"I'll ask the house elves if they know any."

XXXXX

 _Halloween._

"I can't believe he's going to Hogsmeade with that tramp." Ginny muttered resentfully.

"She has-" Luna started, only to get cut off by the irate redhead.

"Nice boobies. Yes, I know."

She'd kept her distance from Harry ever since their argument. She simply found it impossible to get around the fact that he was stringing the seventh year girl along on the off chance that she'd jump into bed with him.

Not that Bryanna was spared her anger, since the older Ravenclaw was actually the instigator of the situation.

It just didn't make any sense to her. Harry was supposed to be a hero! Alright, fine, Ginny was willing to admit that the mental picture of him she'd had before meeting him wasn't entirely accurate, but he still hadn't been like this last year!

He'd defended her on the train when Malfoy had insulted her. He had tutored her and Luna when it became obvious that Lockhart didn't have the first clue about Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had quickly figured out the problem with the diary and helped Dumbledore deal with the basilisk. He might not have been the same Harry Potter as in the books, but there had been no doubt in Ginny's mind that he was a hero.

Now he was suddenly looking to get into a girl's knickers and getting mad at her for bringing it up. She had grudgingly accepted the fact that Luna might have a point about boys, but that had been just looking. The fact that he was actively working towards the goal of having meaningless sex with a girl he didn't even know was beyond her ability to accept.

The fact that he'd called her a kid and that he liked older women was another point of contention, especially in light of the fact that she could barely think about sex without blushing while he treated it so cavalierly.

So she'd distanced herself from Harry and waited for him to come apologize. Her brothers had always apologized to her when she got upset. They might drag their feet sometimes, but they always did it in the end.

But Harry wasn't her brother. Furthermore, he seemed to have no intention of trying to fix their friendship and now he was going to Hogsmeade on what could technically be called a date with a seventh year with no sign of being bothered by the situation.

Now she was starting to worry that there wouldn't be any apologies or making up. Indeed, it was looking as if there wouldn't even be a friendship anymore.

This wasn't how things were supposed to be and she had no idea what to do about it. Confused and upset by the way things were going, she reluctantly decided to write to her mother. She'd held off on it so far, not wanting to go running back to her mother to solve her problems, but she needed advice that wasn't a flat statement about boobies.

Luna was actually very smart beneath her absent demeanor, but she just didn't get it.

XXXXX

Luna watched as Ginny pinned her letter to one of the school owls and sighed.

She could understand the redhead's position, she really could, but it was just silly of her to be upset at Harry for being himself. If he wanted to play with Bryanna's boobies and she let him do it, then Luna could only smile at them and hope they had fun. The fact that Ginny was upset by it baffled her.

But Ginny was also being herself with her attempts to get Harry to stop being himself, so she didn't say anything. Hopefully, her failure would teach Ginny that you couldn't transfigure a person into a different person and they could all be friends again.

No matter how detailed you made a potato castle, it was still just a bunch of mashed potatoes . People could learn a lot from potatoes.

Ginny should have spent more time making and contemplating potato castles.

XXXXX

Harry wasn't quite as enthused about Hogsmeade as the other third years, owing both to his aversion for large crowds and the way that some people stared at him. On the other hand, he had a pretty girl on his arm and was able to feel shamelessly smug about the jealous looks he'd caught amidst the staring. The Hogwarts rumor mill had of course been hard at work spreading speculation about the status of their relationship based on limited information, which was now 'confirmed' by the two of them going to Hogsmeade together. This had seemingly elevated him into some kind of pseudo-legendary figure among the boys in his year and possibly even those in the year above him.

As for Hogsmeade itself, he thought that the little wizarding settlement was very…quaint. It was the only purely magical settlement in all of Great Britain according to Bryanna, which said quite a bit about how tiny the magical population had to be.

She had taken him on a short tour of the village and then suggested they go to the Three Broomsticks for a pint of butterbeer to warm up.

Morbidly curious if butterbeer was actually made of beer and melted butter and having no better ideas, he'd agreed.

Now he found himself sandwiched between Bryanna and a friend of hers that went by Tiana.

Bryanna and Tiana. If Tiana wasn't a pale, curly haired brunette with hazel eyes, they could've been twins with names like that.

Her convenient presence in the Three Broomsticks was unlikely to be a coincidence given that they were friends. The Slytherin crest and green trim on her robes also hinted at the fact that she might be an ambitious schemer.

"So Bry tells me that you've been helping her learn the Patronus." Tiana commented, casually letting her hand fall to his thigh.

"We've been helping each other." Harry replied, trying not to fidget as the familiar prickle of magic passed through the runes on his back, followed by the equally familiar lust.

"Don't be shy now, Harry." Bryanna teased, her own hand dropping to his other thigh. "I wouldn't be half as far in learning it if it wasn't for your insight."

Harry took a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm the dull fire going through his loins. It had been over two months now since his last rendezvous with Zoe and he was discovering that solo sessions of wand polishing were simply not having the same effect anymore. Bryanna's light teasing and seemingly innocent touches since the start of term certainly hadn't helped.

Now he had two very pretty girls giving him some very damned blatant signals and it was a struggle not to grab them by the hair, kiss them and then drag them to the first empty room he could find. He knew that this had to be because of whatever ambition they were hoping to use him for, but it didn't really make the situation easier.

The proprietor of the establishment decided to approach them at that point, and just so happened to be a curvaceous MILF in the first set of cleavage baring robes Harry had seen thus far. It was hard to say how old she was with the way that magic slowed down aging, but she was definitely rocking the mature older woman look.

"Well isn't this a familiar sight?" Madam Rosmerta drawled in an amused fashion.

"Excuse me?" Harry questioned after quickly clearing his throat to prevent any embarrassing breaks in his voice. He was just glad that Bryanna and Tiana had surreptitiously removed their hands from his thighs. That would've made it really hard to pay attention to any conversation.

"I was just reminded of your father and…his friends."

Harry noted the slight pause and correctly guessed that she had been about to mention Sirius.

"They liked to come in here too, often with girls on their arms. Shameless flirts they were."

Definitely been about to mention Sirius. Lupin did not come across as a very flirty individual and Pettigrew had been….unattractive, to put it lightly.

"I can certainly see why they would flirt with you." Harry replied, the words slipping from his tongue before he could even think to stop them.

Fortunately, Rosmerta only burst into laughter instead of taking offense.

"You really are your father's son, aren't you? Except that you're starting even younger. I'm Rosmerta, but you can call me Rosie." She said merrily. "You girls need to be careful around this one."

"I'm sure we can handle him." Tiana smirked, hand snaking out to give Harry's thigh quick squeeze.

"I'm sure." Rosmerta said with an answering smirk and adopted a more professional demeanor. "What can I get you?"

"Three butterbeers please." Bryanna ordered.

"Coming right up."

Harry took the opportunity to check out the proprietor's swaying rear end and found it to be just as appealing as the rest of her. Truly, magic was wonderful for preserving a woman's sex appeal well past the age when a non-magical female would have probably lost it already.

A quick look around the tavern let him know that the other patrons were mostly minding their own business, though Ginny's brother Ron seemed to be staring at him with an angry sort of jealousy from where he was sitting with his Gryffindor friends for some reason. That was pretty random, but it wasn't as if Ron was actually important.

"You know what, Bry? I think we aren't trying hard enough if Mr. Smooth here has time to flirt with Rosmerta." Tiana commented, sliding her hand a bit further up his thigh.

"I have to agree." Bryanna said, mirroring the action.

Harry held back a groan. It was going to be a _long_ day, but like hell was he going to let himself be teased like this without retaliation.

"And what are you going to do about it?" He asked, boldly reaching out to return the teasing with a thigh squeeze of his own. Only to Bryanna though, as he hadn't known Tiana long enough to be quite _that_ bold.

" _Harry!_ " The way she breathed out his name, with a mix of surprise and pleasure, had to be just about the sexiest thing he'd ever heard.

"Tsk tsk, Potter. It's bad form to pay attention to just one of us and ignore the other." Tiana commented from his other side.

Knowing an invitation when he heard one, Harry reached out with his unoccupied hand to give her leg a squeeze too.

"That's better." The Slytherin girl said huskily.

"You three might want to cool off a bit." Rosmerta said as she deposited their butterbeers on the table, making the teens jump in surprise because they hadn't noticed her approach. "You're making _me_ all hot and bothered just looking at you."

"Sorry." Harry said sheepishly, embarrassed by the gentle reprimand. Things really had been going a bit out of hand for a public space.

"I know how it is." She replied wistfully. "I used to be a teenager too once, a long time ago."

"Nonsense, you can't possibly be a day over thirty." Harry responded instantly in a knee jerk reaction that had actually been trained into him by Katherine for when she wanted some older woman to feel flattered by her 'charming son'. Inanely enough, it had been among her more effective schemes.

Apparently it worked on pub owning witches just as well as it did on snobby muggle women, as it sent Rosmerta into a peal of delighted laughter.

"You're quite the sweet talker, aren't you Harry?" She asked with a teasing lilt to her tone.

"I try." He responded with a shrug, not wanting to admit that that last one hadn't been entirely intentional. The flirtatious compliment had been sincere for a change though. Rosmerta might not look as young as thirty anymore, but she still looked damned good, which was more than could be said for almost every other woman he'd said that to before.

"You're succeeding." Rosmerta returned with a flirtatious smile and turned to leave. "Wave me over if you need a refill."

"Should we leave you alone so that you can focus you attention on Rosmerta?" Bryanna asked, amused.

"I was just being friendly." Harry defended, semi-truthfully. He knew that barmaids would often flirt as a matter of course because it kept people coming back, but he did find her undeniably attractive. It didn't help that the two girls on either side of him had gotten him seriously randy and predisposed towards flirting.

"Suuure you were." Tiana drawled out, clearly not believing him.

XXXXX

Sirius had intended to make an attempt to infiltrate Hogwarts on Halloween, but there was one thing that he wanted to do first just in case he failed and ended up being dementor chow.

He had to see Harry, had to see if his godson was alright. He hadn't been able to find him before, but he _had_ to see him. The rage he felt for the cowardly rat hadn't abated in the slightest, but his previous failure had instilled enough caution in him to acknowledge the admittedly high chance that he was going to die in the attempt to extract revenge for James and Lily's murder.

In hindsight, rushing off half-cocked after Wormtail had betrayed them to Voldemort had been a bad idea, but he hadn't been in a particularly rational mood at the time. He still wasn't truth be told, though at this point it was because of twelve years of dementor exposure rather than homicidal rage.

But getting back to the point, he had to see Harry first. He knew that there was always a Hogsmeade weekend before Halloween, which was by far the safest avenue for him to get a glimpse of his godson.

He stayed in his Animagus form and stuck to the woods around the village, keeping his doggy nose up in the air, hoping to get a whiff of his godson's scent. It would undoubtedly be different after twelve years, but he hoped that he could still recognize it.

Hours later, he had all but lost hope and started thinking that maybe Harry hadn't been able to leave the castle for some reason. When the barely familiar scent wafted into his nose, Padfoot accidentally planted his face into the dirt in his eagerness to get a look.

Stalking stealthily through the outskirts of the forest, Sirius caught sight of his quarry as they moved towards the Shrieking Shack and did an almost cartoonish rendition of a canine jaw drop.

Harry was….tall. Too tall for his age. Tall enough that Sirius seriously wondered for a moment whether he'd spent more than just twelve years in Azkaban. He looked so much like James that it hurt to look at him, though he kept his hair at a length more reminiscent of Sirius himself, nor did he wear glasses. Sirius couldn't see color in his Animagus form, but he was sure that the boy's eyes were still Lily's beautiful emerald green.

The fact that his godson had not one but two witches that looked to be seventh years keeping him company nearly overrode his self control and had him running towards the boy to lick his face in a display of pure pride.

Once the initial reaction passed though, Sirius felt a stab of pain in his chest, remembering better times with his best friend. For all that James had been chasing Lily rather obsessively since third year, he hadn't shied away from the occasional date with other witches. He and Sirius would often bring whichever girl they were goofing around with at the time to the Three Broomsticks for a pint of butterbeer and an amusing bit of flirting with the ever delightful proprietor. Their dates would invariably get jealous of the attention they were giving to the older woman, giving the two of them an opportunity to make it up to them later, sometimes in very pleasurable ways. Quite a few broom closets and abandoned classrooms held fond memories for him.

Lost in his grief and memories, Padfoot unintentionally whined loudly.

XXXXX

It turned out that butterbeer was not as disgusting as its name implied. It was in fact rather delicious and had some kind of magic in it that spread warmth over the whole body when drunk.

To Harry's minor annoyance, his runes made quick work of that due to it being a foreign magic. He hadn't considered that when carving them. It wouldn't have stopped him as it really was a minor thing, but the oversight displeased him. It was good to have confirmation that it worked at least.

They had stayed in the Three Broomsticks for a while, having a conversation intersped with flirting and teasing touches. Not as intense as it had been at first since they hadn't wanted to get another warning from Rosmerta, but still enough that Harry felt the magic in his runes prickling in an almost annoyed fashion at the time it was taking to get to the main event.

He had no idea what kind of plan Bryanna and Tiana had cooked up, but he could hardly wait to get to the part where they tried to take advantage of him.

After leaving the tavern, the girls had suggested taking a look at the Shrieking Shack, which was supposed to be the most haunted place in Britain, though nobody seemed able to say why exactly that was.

That was about the time when they all heard a loud, canine whine and turned to look at the source.

A very big black dog was staring at them from between the trees, it's eyes lightly shining.

The three students froze in surprise. The dog froze in surprise.

"Is that….a grim?" Tiana asked slowly, as if afraid that the sound would provoke it to attack.

Harry knew exactly what that dog was and it wasn't a grim. It looked a lot more ragged than he remembered, but it was undoubtedly Sirius' Animagus form, Padfoot.

"I don't think so." Bryanna replied uncertainly, squeezing Harry's arm as if to reassure herself that she wasn't alone. "Grims are supposed to be spectral and this one looks solid."

Harry knew that he had to do something and fast. There was an opportunity here, but he could already see Sirius getting ready to bolt. He still had a few questions about the night that his parents had died and Sirius was possibly the only person who could give him the answers he sought.

"It's Padfoot." He said, making things up as he went. "He's my dog, but I have no idea what he's doing all the way up here."

"Your dog?" Bryanna and Tiana exclaimed in surprise, echoed by another whine from an equally surprised Padfoot.

Sirius had no idea how to react. He'd known that it would have been too much to hope for that Harry would remember him, but it seemed that his godson did indeed remember. He couldn't have known the name of his Animagus form otherwise.

"He wouldn't hurt anyone, would you, Padfoot?" Harry asked pointedly, staring at the dog Animagus. If Sirius had a wand and the intent to use it, then Harry didn't fool himself into thinking that he could take him on in a straight fight, but he'd shown zero aggression so far.

He'd long since deduced that the dementors hovering around the school were supposedly for his protection in case Black went after him, which was in his opinion a completely asinine security measure. If the Ministry was right, then this was the best chance that Black was ever going to get to kill him.

Padfoot let his tongue hang out of his mouth and panted happily, trotting over to the three of them and giving Harry's hand a lick.

"See? He's harmless." Harry said, wiping his drool stained hand on his robes.

"I guess." Tiana said dubiously, still staring at the hulking canine warily.

 _Now what? Asking them to give me a moment alone with a dog would be suspicious and I can hardly talk to Sirius with them around._

It was a strange situation that compelled a teenager to ditch two pretty girls that seemed intent on having their way with him, but that was what Harry found himself doing. Lust simply had to take a backseat this time.

"Excuse me for a few minutes girls, I need to get Padfoot back home." He said to Bryanna and Tiana, making up his mind on a course of action.

"Okay." They agreed, still a bit uncertain about the whole situation but much more composed than they had been before.

"Teeny." Harry said softly.

The small house elf popped in, looking happy at being called.

"You's called for Teeny, master Harry Potter sir?" She asked earnestly, already looking around for things to do.

"I did." He confirmed. "Could you please transport me and Padfoot here back to the manor?"

"Teeny can be doing it!" She proclaimed, not even questioning why he suddenly had a dog.

"I'll be back in a few minutes." Harry assured the girls and vanished with the quiet pop of a house elf apparition.

Bryanna and Tiana exchanged glances

"Didn't he tell you that he lives with muggles?" Tiana asked.

"Wondering about the house elf?"

"Yup."

XXXXX

The three of them appeared in the sitting room of Potter Manor with the same quiet pop that they had disappeared with.

"Is you and the doggy wanting something to eat, master Harry?" Teeny asked a second later, knowing what Harry's appetite was like.

"Not right now, thank you." Harry refused politely, once more wishing that he could have gotten the little house elf to stop calling him 'master'. Unfortunately, her lower lip started wobbling tremulously whenever he tried to bring the subject up and he ended up backing down. She was an expert in emotional blackmail.

Once Teeny had made herself scarce, Sirius transformed back into human form, making Harry tense warily even though he'd been expecting it.

"Harry." The bedraggled man in Azkaban prison robes said, spreading his arms and taking a step forward as if to give him a hug.

"Hold it right there." Harry said firmly, taking a step back and raising his arms defensively. "I'm fairly sure that you didn't betray my parents and that you don't mean me any harm, but that doesn't mean I trust you."

"It was Pettigrew!" Sirius said loudly, looking a little wild eyed now. "He was the traitor!"

"What about the twelve muggles that you supposedly killed?" Harry pressed.

"Also him. He shouted something about me betraying James and Lily when I cornered him and then fired off a blasting curse."

"Alright, I believe you." Harry nodded after a moment's consideration, having already known that the situation was fishy and seeing no particular reason for Sirius to be lying to him. "But I'm still not hugging you, you stink."

Sirius stared at him in shock for a second and then burst into near hysterical laughter.

Harry frowned slightly in consternation. It hadn't been _that_ funny.

"I bet you'd prefer a hug from those two girls of yours, eh Harry?" Sirius ribbed once his chuckles had subsided.

"Obviously." Harry said drolly. "Speaking of which, we'll need to postpone the rest of this meeting for another time. I need to get back before anyone gets suspicious. Stay here and keep out of sight until we figure out a way to get your name cleared, I'm sure that Teeny will be glad to have someone to take care of."

"Wormtail!" Sirius suddenly shouted. "He's in the castle, I have to get him!"

"Wormtail?" Harry questioned, the name(nickname?) being unfamiliar to him.

"Pettigrew!" Sirius spat impatiently. "He's a rat Animagus, been hiding out as the Weasley's pet rat ever since he framed me."

"Scabbers?" Harry wondered, having heard quite a few complaints about Ron's pet rat from Ginny as well as occasionally seeing it at meals. That ugly thing was an Animagus? He'd never seen Pettigrew transform in his memories and hadn't honestly thought that such a weak looking wizard was capable of it.

"Whatever he calls himself!" The escaped convict growled, throwing his hands up into the air angrily. "I have to get back there and kill him for what he did."

"I'll catch him." Harry stated. It shouldn't be too hard since the rat wouldn't expect him. Getting him away from Weasley without anyone noticing would be the bigger issue. Moreover, a living Peter Pettigrew would be exactly the kind of evidence they'd need to prove that Sirius was innocent.

"NO!" Sirius screamed, suddenly lunging to grab Harry by his robes. "He's mine!"

Alarmed and angered by the sudden attack, Harry pried the man's hands off and roughly shoved him to the floor. Not a feat of strength that a normal thirteen year old would be capable off, but he was physically older than his age, had a minor strength boost from his runes and Sirius was so far from being in good shape that it wasn't even funny.

"Don't be an idiot!" Harry spat angrily. "Everyone is on the lookout for you. You'll never succeed without alerting him and then he can just make a run for it. We'd never find him again if he escapes."

"I'm sorry, James." Sirius said contritely from the floor, sounding close to tears. "You're right, we'll do it your way."

Harry ignored the fact that he'd just been called by his father's name. The dementors had obviously not done Sirius' state of mind any favors.

"Stay in the manor and keep out of sight, nobody is going to look for you here. I'll get Pettigrew and then we can figure out how to solve this mess." He instructed, taking a deep breath to dispel the last of his short burst of anger. "I really have to get back, but Charlus and Dorea have portraits up on the first floor if you want to talk to them."

 _Too bad that wards can't be used to keep someone inside them, he's far too unstable for my liking._ Harry thought, holding back a grimace.

That was a strange quirk of wards. They could do a lot of things, including block apparition and portkeys, but keeping someone from just walking past them was something that was impossible to do. It could be set up to trigger effects for anyone doing so, even lethal ones, but that only worked from the outside coming in. Azkaban would have been truly inescapable if it were otherwise. Line style exclusion spells such as the Age Line were the only exception, but they weren't really wards and couldn't be anchored to anything, which meant that they needed to be frequently reinforced.

And on that note, he was going to need to tell Teeny to keep the man from leaving. He wasn't likely to get more than one opportunity to make a grab for Pettigrew and Sirius did not strike him as the subtle type.

Sirius blanched at the thought even as he got to his feet. Talk to James' parents? The people who had shown him nothing but kindness and whose son and daughter-in-law he'd killed with his stupidity? A horde of dementors sounded less scary, even if they were just portraits.

XXXXX

"Got your dog sorted?" Bryanna asked once Teeny had popped Harry back to Hogsmeade.

"Yeah." Harry nodded. "Crazy mutt was all set to make another trip up here and took some convincing to get him to stay put."

"I don't think we have time to visit the Shrieking Shack anymore." Tiana said with a small frown. "It's nearly time to go back to Hogwarts."

"Alright, lets go then." He said, his mind already chewing over the problem of Pettigrew.

"Oh Haaary~." Bryanna sing-songed. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Harry turned to stare at her, seeing both girls holding their hands out for him to take.

Oh, right. _That_ was still happening. Maybe the Pettigrew problem could wait for another day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Guest review responses! I haven't done one of these in a while.**

 **Partha Lahiri: Could you please specify which part of the fic puts such a fire in your crotch? I'd like to know so I can put more of it in. Clearly I must be doing something right if I can evoke such a powerful emotional reaction.**

XXXXX

Living back in Potter Manor after Azkaban had been an emotional experience for Sirius.

He'd nearly cried when Teeny had told him that she'd drawn him a bath and laid out a clean set of robes for him. He _had_ cried when he took his first bite of food in twelve years that didn't taste like it had been scraped off a troll's arse or fished out of the garbage. It had taken him a good ten minutes to convince Teeny that there was nothing wrong with her cooking after that. The Potter house elf had always been an insecure little thing.

It was then that he had decided that there had been enough blubbering. Sirius Black was not some emotionally fragile preteen girl that kept bursting into tears at the slightest provocation. He was a manly man and would act like it.

That resolve had lasted exactly one hour, which was the time it took him to build up the nerve to go talk to Charlus and Dorea's portraits. He'd started bawling again as soon as they told him that they didn't blame him for James and Lily's deaths.

Sirius still felt responsible, but didn't argue. He'd never had it in him to argue with Charlus and Dorea.

XXXXX

Remus spent the majority of the Halloween feast staring at the son of his friends, still wallowing indecisively over how or even _if_ to approach him.

Dumbledore had told him that the boy seemed to somehow know about him already. It would be so much simpler if Harry deigned to make the first move, but he couldn't put that all on Harry without being a hypocrite.

James and Sirius had always been the ones who made things happen in the Marauders. Charismatic James Potter and bold Sirius Black, getting in and out of trouble as easy as breathing. Remus had participated in their antics eagerly, happy to have friends at all with his condition, but he hadn't been a driving force like James or Sirius. Peter had been even more of a follower than him and couldn't even boast the same kind of intelligence and skill that would have made him their equal the same as it did for Remus.

Harry wasn't really much like James in temperament. Not nearly as social or boisterous and too studious by half.

But sometimes he reminded him so much of James that it was hard to keep from calling him the wrong name. Times like now, when Remus had heard that he'd gone to Hogsmeade with one seventh year witch and left it with two. Remus had once been terribly envious of his two friends' easy way with the opposite gender, something that he'd always had to avoid due to his lycanthropy even when the opportunity presented itself. Nowadays it was just another regret among many.

And speaking of regrets...

One of the larger ones was sitting at the same table as him, occasionally shooting a glower at Harry.

Snape had been a favored target for James and Sirius, no doubt a result of James' near obssesive infatuation with Lily and Sirius being the supportive best friend by backing him up. Severus' friendship with her had riled them like nothing else. Remus and Peter hadn't participated in picking on the dour Slytherin often, but they hadn't protested either.

It had felt too good to have someone that he, a werewolf, could feel pity for to do that and Peter had likely had a similar reason, minus the lycanthropy. A shameful realization about himself that had come far too late to be helpful. It was one of the main reasons that he didn't try to retaliate or defend himself from Snape's veiled barbs these days. He deserved them.

Not that Severus had been a helpless victim. He'd given almost as good as he'd gotten in many cases, which was particularly impressive since he had always been outnumbered. In truth, Remus had always strongly suspected that Severus was a more powerful wizard than any single one of the Marauders.

However much he enjoyed teaching, he found himself wishing that he hadn't accepted Dumbledore's offer. There were too many regrets and memories in this place, staring out at him either from the black eyes of a man too bitter, proud and resentful to accept his apologies or from the bright green of a teenager who looked at him with indifferent curiousity at best.

He couldn't wait for the feast to be over. The cheerful armosphere did not suit his mood.

XXXXX

A little further down the table, Snape glowered so darkly that not even Dumbledore attempted to bother him with his infuriatingly inane chatter.

Halloween always put him in a foul mood. Lily had died on this day and the innumerable twits infesting the world celebrating it grated on him. The fact that Potter had deigned to grace the Great Hall with his presence on this day for the first time since coming to Hogwarts made it worse.

Rumor had already reached him of the brat's neophyte forays into the philandering ways of his father and it curdled his opinion of the boy more than anything else could have, along with his mood.

He couldn't wait for the feast to be over. The last of the firewhiskey that Minerva had gotten him the previous Christmas sounded particularly appealing right now.

XXXXX

Oblivious to the regard of the two professors, Harry continued eating as he absently reached into the pocket of his robes to give the note it held a squeeze. The message it held made his blood boil even as it sent a nervous flutter to his stomach.

 _Come to the seventh floor after the feast, the opposite side of the corridor from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. We'll be waiting._

Bryanna had slipped him the note before she'd left, with Tiana following shortly afterwards. He felt almost as nervous as the first time with Zoe. How did threesomes even work?

But he also couldn't wait for the feast to be over. It would be fun learning how they worked.

XXXXX

One the feast was over Harry slipped away from prying eyes and made his way up to the seventh floor. It was less expansive than most of the castle, being as high up as it was, so there shouldn't be any trouble finding the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

Granted, he had no idea what it looked like, but he figured that someone that wizards titled 'the Barmy' would be doing something pretty fucking crazy.

Trying to teach trolls how to do ballet defnitely fit the bill. Why would anyone want to do that anyway?

But the ambitions of insane wizards were really of no importance to Harry right now. What was important was the door on the opposite side of the corridor. Harry cautiously opened the door and froze as soon as he stepped inside.

He hadn't been sure what to expect of this room, but what he got was not it. It was rather large, with several dozen floating candles giving it a warm orange glow. It was somewhat bare of furniture except for the exccessively large bed. Harry absently noticed the deep crimson bedding, but most of his attention was on the two women currently occupying the bed.

Bryanna and Tiana were laying on their sides, facing each other with their legs entangled, echanging languid kisses.

Harry had assumed that the Wizarding World would be as intolerant of homosexuality as it was about a lot of other things, but he was very glad to be wrong for a change. When thinking of it later on, he would eventually conclude that the contempt that magicals had for monotheistic religion was likely the main reason for this surprising tolerance, but he was entirely too distracted to be thinking about that right now.

The girls noticed him at that point and separated from each other.

"Looks like it's time for the main event." Bryanna said huskily, giving Harry a smouldering look.

"Finally." Tiana muttered under her breath.

The two of them had decided to get each other ready just in case Harry was one of those guys that liked to just get to the main event and fall asleep right after, like their first times had been. If he did end up being like that, then they'd at least be plenty wet enough for it to only be disappointing instead of unpleasant.

The only problem had been restraining themselves to just kissing and some light petting and not getting started without him. That would have run counter to the whole point. They weren't really lesbians or even bisexual, but there was nothing wrong with getting a bit of relief with a friend. Especially when the pickings among the male population were so slim.

Harry watched in entranced fascination as they got off the bed and walked towards him. Both of them were wearing sheer nighties that simply _had_ to be enchanted. They looked as though they might have originally come out of a muggle lingerie store, but no regular fabric could shimmer so enticingly as it moved. It looked as though they were made of impossibly fine metal, with Bryanna's being bronze and Tiana's silver. They had nothing but bright blue and green panties under those, an amusing nod to the color of their Hogwarts houses.

He'd just taken in that interesting little detail when they reached him, one after the other giving him a deep kiss without preamble.

"You're overdressed, Harry." Bryanna whispered into his ear as two sets of hands started undoing his robes. "Lets fix that, shall we?"

Busy as he was kissing Tiana and running his hands over her thinly covered body, Harry couldn't respond, but he definitely wasn't going to object.

There _was_ one thing that absolutely had to be done before things went any further though.

"One moment." He said breathlessly after separating his lips from those of the Slytherin girl.

Then he drew his wand and quickly cast two contraception charms.

"Protection, Harry?" Tiana smirked. "That's very responsible of you, but we're already on the potion."

"Better safe than sorry." He shrugged and eagerly leaned back to kiss her before she could respond.

They left a trail of discarded clothing on the floor as they stumbled towards the bed, by which time Harry had nothing but his underwear left on him.

Harry grabbed Tiana's legs when they reached the edge of the bed and lifted her onto it, covering her body with his own immediately after.

 _Guess I get to be first._ She thought humorlessly when she felt him hooking his thumbs into her panties and pull them off.

Instead of having a male member of underwhelming size shoved into her, he had her gasping in surprise as he dived for her crotch mouth first, with every indication that he'd been dying to do just that.

Harry _had_ in fact been dying to do just that, having developed something of an oral fixation with Zoe. Maybe it had been his desire to reach the coveted ten out of ten on the cunnilingus scale, or maybe it was the ego boost that hearing a woman panting in pleasure while he ate her out gave him. Either way, he wasn't going to miss out on a chance to do it.

Seeing her friend making sounds of pleasure that didn't sound faked, Bryanna made a facial expression somewhere between a smirk and a pout. Smirking, because it looked like Tiana's plan to fake their orgasms wouldn't be needed and pouting because she wasn't getting any attention.

Then her expression changed all the way into a smirk as she got an idea. First, she pulled off her own nightie and panties, then she tugged down Harry's underwear to get him completely naked.

With a critical look that she would've kept off her face if he could see it, Bryanna examined Harry's package and nodded to herself. It wasn't really anything to write home about, but it was impressive for a thirteen year old. At the very least it would do more than tickle when he put it in.

Running her hands gently over the exposed genitals, she leaned over to him and spoke in her most throaty voice.

"I'll be expecting the same treatment, so don't exhaust yourself too quickly."

Harry groaned his agreement into Tiana's crotch, incidentally making the Slytherin groan as well. His jaw was not going to thank him for it, but he fully intended to do just that.

XXXXX

 _One hour later._

Bryanna grunted as Harry sheathed himself into her from behind, the entrance being very easy due to her previous orgasm leaving her well lubricated.

Tiana was sprawled on her back next to them, the trickle of semen leaking from her attesting to Harry's own recent ograsm.

An orgasm that he seemed to have already recovered from.

Harry looked down at the witch he was thrusting into, feeling the familiar thrill of power that this position gave him. It was even more pronounced than it had been with Zoe. Unlike his muggle friend, Bryanna had a tangible power within her that he could feel when he was this close. A power that felt submissive to him when he took her like this.

Lost in the moment, he decided to see if he couldn't push things a bit further.

Bryanna leaned her head back eagerly when she felt a hand grabbing her hair. The combination of being taken from behind and having her hair grabbed felt good.

She didn't think much of it when he pulled her head a bit to the side and thrust into her hard enough to nudge her forward.

She did notice however when he started pushing her head towards Tiana's soiled crotch.

"Lick her." Harry ordered with a grunt as he pushed himself all the way into her and stopped moving. "We wouldn't want her falling asleep now, would we?"

Bryanna wanted to protest, but something about the situation made her inner walls clench with anticipation around his shaft. She wanted him to start moving again and damn if his commanding behavior wasn't hot.

So she gave in and set to work on getting her friend off again, ignoring both the taste of Harry's seed and the protesting mewl that Tiana made to the stimulation.

Seeing a witch four years his senior give in to his desire sent Harry hurtling over the edge of his second orgasm entirely too fast, but he didn't fight it and released into her with a drawn out groan.

Drawing in big gulps of air, he watched her arse sticking into the air and a drop of sperm trickle from her opening. He could already feel his arousal returning at the sight. He was going to be hard again in a minute.

He had something else that he wanted to do though.

Not bothering with a wand since neither of the two girls could see him, Harry focused on what he wanted and sent a cleaning charm at Bryanna's crotch.

The Ravenclaw girl jumped slightly as the spell removed not only his own leavings, but also the wetness generated by her arousal.

"Harry!" She gasped, sounding a mixture of scandalized and aroused. " _Did you just cast a spell at my fanny?!_ "

"Get back to licking." He told her with a grin and planted his face in the aforementioned fanny. After all, he'd made her dry again and that just wouldn't do.

Bryanna groaned at having his tongue applied to her again. The spell had been like a jolt of cold power right to her privates, so his hot tongue was feeling particularly good right now. The position was also new and exciting to her. She'd never gotten licked from behind before.

And speaking of licking, she went back to flicking her tongue over the tired Slytherin's clitoris.

Harry had a point. Tiana had no business falling asleep already. Shagging the overly virile third year had been her idea and by Merlin she was going to help tire him out.

XXXXX

 _Two hours later._

Tiana opened her eyes blearily as she heard Harry groan and spurt out what couldn't be more than a few drops of sperm into her abused snatch.

She was currently lying on her stomach and mostly just happy to let the boy do whatever he wanted until he tired himself out.

Bryanna was already passed out next to her, having thrown her under the metaphorical bus earlier and told Harry to leave her alone and use the Slytherin to satisfy himself. The bitch.

Neither one of them had expected Harry to have that much damned stamina. Oh sure, he technically cheated by giving himself breaks and resorting to the use of his tongue , but at the end of the day, he was still the one that had exhausted them instead of the other way around. The after sex business proposition they'd planned was just going to have to wait until morning.

She felt the bed dip as a new weight shimmied between her and Bryanna. She hadn't even noticed him getting off the bed in the first place.

To her great relief, he merely pulled both of them close and settled down to sleep. If he'd tried going anywhere near her groin again, she might have just slapped him. If she could be bothered to lift her arms that was.

Instead she just settled into his side and took a deep breath, taking in the smell of food.

Wait...food?

He'd gotten himself a snack before getting back to bed?

The absurdity of his appetite made Tiana giggle sleepily as she fell back into slumber.

Harry raised an eyebrow a the weird giggle/snore hybrid that the Slytherin girl had just made, wondering what the hell she was dreaming about.

Eh, no matter. He was way too exhausted to really care. He'd almost been too exhausted to eat, but the gurgling emptiness of his stomach would never have let him sleep.

XXXXX

The morning after was greeted with parched throats, full bladders, terrible morning breath and sore nethers.

Fortunately, there was a bathroom attached to the room, the house elves were always happy to provide assistance with anything food related and minor healing spells could soothe the soreness.

Once all of that had been taken care of, they went back to snuggling on the bed.

"Where did you girls find this amazing room?" Harry asked with a sigh, sinking into the deliciously soft pillows.

"The elves call it the Come And Go room, or the Room of Requirement. Apparently you just have to pace across the hallway three times and think about what you want."

"And the castle just reads your mind and makes the room?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Looks like it." Bryanna shrugged.

"Huh, that's interesting."

Very interesting. In fact, Harry was quite sure that he'd just found a new favorite room in the castle.

"So...Harry, what did you think of what we were wearing?" Tiana asked casually, dragging a finger along his chest.

"Those sexy nighties?" He asked with a grin. "I loved them. Where did you find those anyway? It doesn't look like something that you could buy in Diagon Alley and I could feel the magic in them."

"We made them." Bryanna said proudly. "Well, us and two other friends."

"That's quite a talent you've got there." He complimented.

"Thank you." Tiana accepted graciously. "We've been thinking of opening a clothing store that caters to more... _modern_ tastes than Madam Malkin's, but it's hard to start up a business in the Wizarding World."

Harry smiled wryly, the realization dawning on him.

"So you hatched a plan to seduce an orphaned heir to a Noble House and get him to foot the bill." He said dryly.

Bryanna and Tiana exchanged glances and shrugged, giving up the pretense of casual conversation. This had been supposed to happen while he was still mellow from the sex and sleepy. They hadn't counted on him being able to wear them out, but they had to deal with the situation as it was.

"Yes." The Ravenclaw girl said with as much dignity as could be mustered in the situation. "So, will you do it? You said that you liked our work and we have plenty of other ideas for things, not just night clothes and underwear."

"Explain the whole situation to me and I'll think about it." He said, not keen to agree to anything just yet.

"It's fairly simple really." Bryanna began with a shrug. "All four of us are of the opinion that the Wizarding World could do with a fashion update and want to open a clothing store. The problem is that getting the start up capital is damn near impossible and the pureblood pricks running the Ministry start bleating protests every time someone tries to do something different."

Tiana took up the narrative from there. "You might have noticed that it looks like we just took some muggle clothing and enchanted it, which is fairly close to the mark. We haven't figured much of the sewing spells that are used in creating clothes because those tend to be professional secrets, but buying stuff made by muggles, enchanting it and reselling is simple enough if you've got the skill."

"The problem is that some pureblood could easily decide that he didn't like what we were doing, throw some money around and get it classified under 'Misuse of Muggle Artefacts' to make the whole thing illegal. So we were hoping that you would give us the start up gold and let us use the Potter name." Bryanna finished.

"How would using my name help?" Harry asked curiously.

"Lords of Noble Houses get all kinds of exemptions to the law, including the one about misusing muggle artefacts. If they made it illegal for you, then they'd be making it illegal for themselves too." She answered and continued with a mutter. "As if a bra was an artefact."

The two girls went quiet and Harry mulled over their words. He'd never much cared for the ungainly robes that wizards liked so much and was definitely in favor of having alternatives, but he had noticed how tradition obsessed the culture was. They weren't likely to turn a profit for _years_. In fact, the entire venture could quite easily just end up being a huge money sink.

That being said, it could also turn out to be spectacularly successful. The muggleborns would almost definitely like it, just as certainly as the purebloods would hate it. The halfbloods were a toss up. An important toss up as they made up anywhere between 60 and 80% of the population.

"How much would you need?" He asked after a few minutes.

"A few thousand galleons at least." Bryanna said with wince, knowing that it wasn't a small amount of money, but also knowing better than to sugarcoat it. They'd need that money to buy the space, build up stock and advertise, not to mention living expenses since they'd essentially be unemployed during that time. If he refused them, then their only other avenue would be to take a loan from Gringotts and only idiots borrowed money from the goblins. Their interest rates were ruinous.

Harry wasn't too bothered by the number. The basilisk carcass had sold for truly ridiculous sums, enough that he had no worries about running out of funds by the time he reached adulthood even if he became quite an extravagant spender. It wasn't as much as he had in his main vault, but it would probably be comparable to the fortune of a very minor Noble family.

"I'll give you ten thousand." He said, lips quirking at how their eyes widened. "BUT, I want majority ownership. 60%."

"Then you'd be the one owning it, not us." Tiana grumbled. She wanted to be her own boss, not an employee in someone else's business.

"I'm the one taking the risk here, not you." Harry pointed out. "If this idea of yours sinks, I'll be the one taking the hits."

"I don't suppose we could convince you to lower that percentage down to 49?" Bryanna asked coyly, hand reaching to fondle him between the legs.

"I have a better idea." He said with a grin.

"Really?" Tiana asked, clearly sceptical.

"I give you the money and keep the 60%, you wait for me to claim lordship before opening your store and focus on building up stock in the meantime, I keep your business afloat for as long as it takes to start turning a profit. Once it _does_ start turning a profit you start paying back my investment, for which I won't charge any interest by the way. When however much debt you've accumulated to me is paid off, I turn over 20% to each of you."

The girls exchanged contemplative looks. It was, all told, a fairly good deal. They would have needed to wait for him to claim lordship in any case to protect them from any possible legal fiction concocted by the uptight purebloods. The part about not charging interest for the investment and turning simply handing them 40% of the business once it was repaid was particularly generous and not something they could expect to get from anywhere else.

"There are four of us though." Bryanna reminded him, taking note of the fact that she and Tiana would have majority ownership with this arrangement. Not an entirely displeasing idea, truth be told.

"Well I'm not seeing the other two here, so I'm not inclined to give them larger shares." He returned. "Speaking of which...how would you two feel about keeping me company for the rest of the year?"

The girls exchanged another glance at that, knowing exactly what kind of company he wanted. They hadn't really planned for any future trysts, but they didn't want anything jeopardizing their future either and were far too cynical to assume that Harry was a decent enough bloke to not take it personally if they refused, Boy-Who-Lived or not.

"I'm sure that something could be arranged."

Besides, even if Harry wasn't the most amazing lover ever, he was enthusiastic, had stamina and wasn't shy about putting his tongue to work to get a girl off. That mostly made up for his somewhat limited experience. Who knows, he might even learn a thing or two about properly using that cock of his eventually.

XXXXX

Molly read over the letter that her daughter had sent her again and frowned, still unsure how to reply to it.

Ginny had been so excited to have made friends with the Boy-Who-Lived last year and now this had happened.

Molly was well aware of how the heirs of Noble Houses tended to act during the later years of their Hogwarts education. She'd always been fiercely disapproving, but had kept it mostly to herself since it didn't concern her. Aside from that one fool incident with a love potion that Arthur had later forgiven her for, she'd held herself to a higher standard than both the witches throwing themselves at noble heirs and those selfsame heirs taking advantage of their status to bed them.

Now Ginny was asking for advice on how to regain her friendship with one of those types and if she was reading between the lines correctly, also how to catch his interest.

Ron had been rather uncomplimentary of him at the start of his first year, calling him rude and arrogant in his letters, but that had tapered off after that poor muggleborn girl had been killed by the troll. Her youngest son had never been quite the same after that, feeling partially responsible for her death as he did.

Harry had seemed like a nice enough boy when they'd met him at the train station at the end of the previous school year, if a bit terse and oddly tall for his age, so she figured that they'd merely had a rocky first meeting. She'd wanted to invite him to spend part of the summer at the Burrow, but had held off when he seemed to be in such a hurry.

Molly could admit to herself that she was also slightly disappointed to learn that Harry Potter would act like any other entitled lordling. She'd expected better from the boy who had defeated Voldemort. Dumbledore had told her before the start of Ginny's first year that Harry needed a friend, so she'd thought that he'd be a bit on the shy side. Apparently, that had not been exactly the case.

What was she supposed to tell Ginny? That Harry was likely to keep bedding a stream of witches that were no doubt hoping to become the next Lady Potter? That he was probably going to start receiving marriage offers at the first sign of acceptance? That it was entirely possible that quite a few of those witches would settle for being his mistresses?

 _That_ was another not spoken of practice among the Noble Houses that had always grated on Molly's more conservative sensibilities. Marriages in pureblood society were often based on social status or business deals rather than any kind of affection, which naturally led to both the Lord and Lady of a House having one or more lovers on the side. They'd produce the agreed upon number of children, attend social functions together and pretend to be a functional family, but ignore each other the rest of the time in favor of their respective dalliances.

She didn't want that kind of future for her daughter. She would always be grateful to Harry for recognizing the cursed diary for what it was, but she didn't find her daughter's crush on the Boy-Who-Lived cute anymore. She also handily ignored the fact that she had subtly encouraged said crush.

A dark corner of her mind whispered about the Potter wealth and how nice it would be to have access to it through Ginny, but she ignored that. There were more important things in the world than money, her daughter's happiness being one of those things.

XXXXX

 _Prongslet,_

 _We didn't really get a chance to talk, so I decided to write you a letter. Not really sure what to say to be perfectly honest, the last time I saw you, you were turning James' hair green because he tried to make you eat broccoli and now you're practically grown up._

 _I should have been there for you. I should have taken care of you instead of going after Wormtail that night. Charlus and Dorea told me a bit about your life and the people you live with now. You could come live with me once this thing with Wormtail and my fugitive status is settled._

 _I say 'come live with me', but what I really mean is that I could take guardianship of you. The Black family home isn't any more cheery than Azkaban, so I wouldn't subject you to living there._

That was an interesting offer, but Harry wasn't sure if he would be taking the man up on it. Yes, Robert and Katherine were annoying, but they were familiar. He'd learned how to handle them a long time ago and his recent dabbling into compulsion charms made it almost trivial to keep them out of his hair. Not to mention that switching guardianship would likely involve quite a bit of legal wrangling that he was keen to avoid.

On the other end of the spectrum was his godfather. A wizard would certainly make for a more convenient guardian in many ways, but only as long as he didn't actually try to act like a parent. Harry had no more use for a parent, especially one that fancied himself as being _responsible_. Responsible guardians would not let their charges perform rituals of blood sacrifice or give them unlimited access to the more questionable reading material of the Black Library.

Harry had no real interest in becoming a Dark Wizard in the traditional sense, but he very much wanted to get at those books. The Potter family library was nice, but suffered a crippling dearth of anything that smacked of dark magic. The Black family was both several centuries older and far less hampered by morals.

Charlus and Dorea had obviously not said a word about his rituals, which was good. He hadn't had time to order them to keep quiet about those and it was nice to know that they knew better than to blurt out that kind of dangerous secret even if they thought it was for his own good.

On the whole, he was leaning towards rejecting Sirius' offer. He would have to think about it some more, but so far it looked like a lot of hassle for little gain. Sirius didn't have to be his legal guardian to open the Black Library after all.

 _I know that we don't really know each other and a letter isn't a very good way to change that, but needs must, so I'll just go and properly introduce myself._

 _I am Sirius Orion Black, also known as the white sheep of the Inbred and Most Pompous House of Black, and your dogfather..._

After that mocking introduction, the letter delved into Sirius' first meeting and instant friendship with James Potter on the Hogwarts Express, as well as their meeting with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew and some of their adventures.

The words were full of nostalgia and more than a small amount of hatred whenever Pettigew, and surprisingly Snape, came up. At least it explained where Snape's animosity for him was coming from, petty though it was.

 _...I'd like to hear about your own Hogwarts adventure, the friends you've made, the girls you've charmed._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Padfoot._

 _P.S. Don't underestimate Pettigrew. He might not look like much, but he's as slippery as his Animagus form and can be dangerous when cornered. I know that your plan makes sense, but I'm still not comfortable with you going after him alone. Remus would help you if you asked him. Hells, even Dumbledore would probably help you._

Harry snorted. Like hell was he going to ask either a virtual stranger or a manipulative old man for help. He didn't know Lupin well enough to predict his reaction and giving Dumbledore any more information to work with was the absolute last thing he was going to do.

Sirius had spoken about Lupin at length, even talking about his werewolf status as though Harry already knew about it. That was somewhat careless of the man, but Harry did have to admit that the clues had been there.

He was still not going to approach the man, despite Sirius' waxing eloquent about what a loyal friend he was. Lupin meant nothing to him and wasn't someone he trusted, so he would be doing this by himself.

The rat would have no blatantly obvious reason to suspect himself hunted now that Sirius was safely in Potter Manor, which would make taking him relatively easy.

He couldn't take him too soon though, as he would then run into the problem of getting out of Hogwarts with the rat. House elves were exempt from the Hogwarts wards and could apparate through them freely, but they couldn't take passengers through them.

The Christmas holidays would provide the perfect exit, he just needed to grab Pettigrew a short while before then.

Harry supposed that he _could_ have told the teachers about this, but he simply didn't trust them not to bungle it all up. He especially didn't trust Dumbledore. The old wizard should have had more than just an inkling of Sirius' innocence, so his inaction on the matter came either from incompetence or some darker agenda.

No, better to handle it himself and keep it quiet until it was too late for anyone to meddle. If word got out about this, he knew that the Ministry would react in the usual fashion of politicians everywhere. Namely, they would do everything in their power to save face and sweeping the whole thing under the proverbial rug was the simplest way of doing that. Innocent or guilty, Sirius Black represented a problem and an embarrassment for the Ministry.

Before he made any plans for Pettigrew however, it would behoove him to reply to the letter. If nothing else, he needed to get to know Sirius before he could decide on the matter of guardianship.

XXXXX

Somewhat contrary to Harry's thoughts about him, Dumbledore did not have any sinister agendas involving Sirius Black, nor was he even particularly incompetent in this case.

He had not been told that the Potters had switched their Secret Keeper. Hagrid, however big his heart was, did not have the brains to match. When the half-giant had taken Harry from Sirius, he had assumed that the man had given the baby up out of a desire to avoid fighting him right after losing his dark master and had reported that to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore had believed him. It would be pretty hard to fight while holding a baby after all. Furthermore, Black had not known the prophecy. Had probably not known about the measures taken by Voldemort to avoid death.

Dumbledore wanted to believe that Sirius was not so far gone as to murder a baby even if he had fallen into the ways of his family and betrayed his friends to the Dark Lord, so he did. It made him feel better to think that there was still a spark of good even in otherwise evil people.

Assumptions made by people with below average intelligence were dangerous. Assumptions made by optimists were equally dangerous. The entire scenario would have made markedly less sense without one or both of these things.

That was why he had not protested too much when Barty Crouch had told him that Black had confessed and been thrown into Azkaban without a trial. There had been so much work to do then that it was far from the only procedural shortcut taken in the wake of Voldemort's death. If Sirius had in the end seen the error of his ways and confessed to his crimes, then there was no need to make a big procession of it.

Had Harry come to him for help with capturing Pettigrew, Dumbledore would have been ecstatic. Not only would he get to help an innocent man, but he would also get to show Harry that he could be relied on and trusted.

As it was, it never even crossed Harry's mind to tell Dumbledore anything and the old wizard himself spent his nights pondering other problems.

Like how to get Fudge to call off those blasted Dementors and how much truth there was to Harry's supposed 'relationship' with a seventh year girl. Possibly _two_ seventh year girls.

He actually had a fairly good idea of what the truth really was. The broad strokes of it at least.

He could have tried to put an end to it, but frankly, it played into his own plans quite well. Harry getting suckered into a marriage to an ambitious young lady would perhaps be emotionally damaging to the young man, but it would give him the strong tie to Britain that Dumbledore had wanted to establish for some time now.

It might even allow the Potter family to produce a successor before Harry's inevitable clash with destiny, remote though the possibility was. It would be a shame for another old family to die out, so he was quietly wishing the ambitious Ms. Torres and her friends the best of luck.

"Things are progressing rather well, wouldn't you say, Fawkes?" He asked in a murmur.

The phoenix trilled sharply.

"I am trying, my friend. I am certain that I will be able to convince the Minister to recall the dementors before long." The old wizard soothed. He knew that the presence of the soul sucking horrors had not agreed with his feathery friend. Phoenixes and dementors didn't get along. At all.

XXXXX

"Were you planning to be a ward specialist or enchanter, Harry?" Professor Vector asked curiously as she examined his work.

Harry frowned thoughtfully. "Not really. Why do you ask?"

"Because you are quite advanced in the type of arithmancy required for that kind of work, much further than in the fields that deal with spell creation." She explained.

Ah, that would explain her assumption. Harry had needed to figure out the more rigid equations used in rituals and those had quite a bit of overlap with warding and enchanting, but had comparatively little interest in deciphering wand movements.

"I hadn't really thought about it." He answered semi-truthfully. "That type of arithmancy just comes easier to me."

"Hmm, we'll have to give spellcasting theory some more attention. It tends to pop up in the OWL tests more frequently than static magic."

Harry's lips curled brielfy in distaste. He didn't particularly care about a test score on a very stupidly named test. Knowing why this wand movement worked better than that one was of little interest to him. Wandless magic worked on a completely different principle that he was only beginning to understand for all that he had managed to get a few spells to work with it, but he knew enough to know that no arithmantic knowledge of it existed.

"I'd prefer to keep working on general theory and static magic." He said instead of voicing his distaste. "It's much more interesting and I'm sure I'll be able to pass the OWLs either way."

Vector looked uncertain for a moment but then nodded her assent. She'd offered him private tutoring exactly because Harry had been bored stiff in her normal class. He might not get a perfect O in his OWLs by neglecting spellcasting theory, but what he wanted to study featured more prominently at the NEWT level. Nobody cared about your OWL scores if you had a NEWT in the same subject, for better or for worse.

XXXXX

Ginny was dawdling and she knew it.

She'd gotten a response from her mother over a week ago, but had still not done anything about the ever widening gulf between her and Harry.

She'd been hoping that her mother would be able to tell her how to get Harry to go back to normal. A vain hope in retrospect, but one born of seeing her father usually abiding by the wishes of his wife.

Instead, the letter had essentially advised her not to get mixed up in whatever Harry was doing, with embarrassing extra emphasis on not trying to prove to Harry how grown up she was by trying to sleep with him. It didn't say that she shouldn't be friends with him, just that she should let go of any feelings she might have developed for him.

Not exactly what Ginny had wanted to hear, nor particularly useful as far as ways to get close to Harry again were concerned. She'd been angry after their last talk, but she still wasn't entirely willing to give up on him.

That was why she'd been procrastinating enough to put Ron to shame. She'd been stubbornly hoping that the situation would somehow resolve itself.

Surprisingly even to her, it seemed to have done so.

Harry wasn't spending so much time around that seventh year tramp anymore. They still seemed to be on friendly terms, but their interaction was noticeably less frequent.

If Harry was distancing himself from the older girl, then maybe he was seeing the error of his ways? Or maybe he'd simply gotten tired of humoring the gold digging slut. Either way, Ginny felt that this was the perfect time to go talk to him.

As she usually did when she wanted to talk to him privately, she woke up early and made her way to his room, knowing that he too had a propensity for waking up early. Their different schedules and his habit of disappearing at random meant that it was by far the best time to catch him alone.

Just as she was about to knock on the door, it opened.

And revealed the very gold digging slut that she'd thought that Harry had stopped associating with, still in the process of fixing her mussed up hair and crumpled robes.

The two stared at each other in surprise for several long moments before Bryanna carefully shut the door behind her.

"What were you doing in Harry's room?" Ginny demanded, anger leaking into her tone at the discovery that the truth was not as palatable as she'd thought.

Bryanna looked at the redhead incredulously, knowing that it was perfectly obvious what she'd been doing in his room.

Then she smirked, grabbed the younger girl's chin and leaned in close. "I was tutoring him, tutoring him _all night long_."

Not really. She'd fallen asleep after he'd worn her out, only to wake up with his face between her legs again. His strange fascination with licking pussy was going a long way towards making their arrangement pleasant rather than demeaning. Men who enjoyed doing that were just so _rare_. And he was getting better at it too.

The redhead slapped her hand away, obviously fuming. That just made Bryanna laugh as she walked away. The Weasley girl had been acting kind of bratty since the start, so riling her up like this was terribly amusing.

Face burning with anger and humiliation, Ginny fled back to her own room. Before now, Harry's words had only been an abstract sort of thing. Seeing a girl coming out of his room early in the morning and all but admitting to having sex with him really made it hit home.

XXXXX

Pacing alone in the Room of Requirement, Harry pondered his Patronus.

He still hadn't managed to get more than mist out of it. Without a wand, he hadn't managed anything at all.

Perhaps casting such a difficult spell wandlessly was being overly ambitious at this stage. The only spells he had managed to get working without a wand so far were very simple in purpose. Spells to give light, levitation charms, minor compulsions, that kind of thing. Any spell that had more than a solitary component was exponentially more difficult to cast without a wand. He still hadn't managed more than the most minute changes with wandless transfiguation.

There was a certain structure to spells that made it enormously difficult to form them without the aid of a wand. The magic simply fell apart if he tried to shape the spell with nothing but his will.

But it could be done. His limited success proved it. And if it could be done, then he was damn well going to do it. He would unravel whatever mystery there was behind magic, and then he could do away with the use of a wand. The magical focus made him feel more like a cripple every day. How everyone else could be so attached to their wands escaped his understanding.

But getting back to the Patronus, he simply couldn't cast it. No memory that he could dredge up was powerful enough to call forth the guardian. Experimentation showed that he was correct in his original assessment; thoughts of protection and safety worked best. After all, you couldn't be happy if you weren't safe.

He strongly suspected that the popular formula of using the happiest thought you could muster was a direct result of the misery inducing aura of a dementor. A simplistic line of thinking that was in tune with the usually simplistic view that wizards had of magic.

Sometimes, he despaired over how _mundane_ they managed to make magic. The only person in the Wizarding World who had so far kept magic actually magical was Luna. That was probably why he liked her so much.

In any case, he clearly needed to rethink his approach to the Patronus. The memory of his mother's sacrifice was tainted by grief and loss and ultimately unsuited for the purpose. But nobody else came to mind when thinking of protection, he'd always needed to look to himself if he wanted protection without any strings attached.

Himself...there was an idea.

 _It can't be that simple...can it?_

Having nothing to lose by trying it, Harry decided to focus inward instead of outward when trying to call the guardian.

Sinking into the Occlumency trance that he had begun to use pretty much every time that something needed deep contemplation, he focused on the image of what he had seen in the Mirror of Erised during his first year.

He was sure that the mirror would show him something subtly different if he were to look at it again. He hadn't been able to determine the features of his companion then, but now he was certain that it would be a woman.

Luna would be there too of course. He'd gotten so used to the eccentric blonde and her spit-take inducing statements that it was hard to imagine life without her.

Ginny...ehhh, he wasn't sure about her. He'd been willing to let bygones be bygones if she could drop that stupid crush and start acting normally, but she hadn't. She still tended to either avoid contact or look at him as if he'd done something wrong, which he knew he hadn't. At this point, he'd be perfectly happy if she decided that their friendship was over.

No, Ginny would probably not be making appearances in the Mirror of Erised if he looked at it again.

Then there was himself. He'd be wearing something made of basilisk hide, Harry knew. He'd been eagerly waiting for the day when he stopped growing so that he could get some of that stored hide tailored into an article of clothing.

His appearance was secondary however. What really mattered was that he would have all the things that he wanted in life. The freedom to do as he pleased, the company of people he could trust not to attempt using him in their schemes and the power to protect it all, to keep it from being taken from him.

Yes, he would be powerful enough to keep the world at bay, but that was for the future. For now, he would be strong enough to hold off the Dark. He wasn't going to be a snack for the dementors. He still had so much that he wanted to do. They weren't going to take his future from him.

Harry focused on that determination, that desire to protect himself and the things he held dear and pushed it into the spell.

A luminescent raven flew forth from his wand, making a circuit around the room before alighting weightlessly on his shoulder.

He smiled widely at his success, all the while thinking of how very appropriate the animal was. He had always been fond of ravens.

XXXXX

With the Christmas holidays approaching, Harry decided that it was time to make a move on the rat.

He had pondered how to go about this for some time and eventually decided that keeping things simple was for the best.

"You said you wanted to talk to me?" Ron Weasley asked cautiously as he entered the empty room.

He'd received a surprising message from Potter with a request to speak to him privately.

He was wary and suspicious of this, as the Ravenclaw third year had never showed any inclination to speak to him since their first meeting on the train years ago.

Ron didn't trust Potter. Ravenclaws were a weird lot and that seventh year Slytherin girl he was sometimes seen with made him even less trustworthy.

Ron was also terribly jealous of the taller boy, though he didn't admit this even to himself. Potter had wealth, fame and most recently he also had a lot of good looking female company.

He'd encouraged his sister to break off ties with him. Ginny should never have been a Ravenclaw to begin with, she belonged with her family in Gryffindor. There was nothing to be done about her wrong sorting, but they could still get her some proper friends.

"I did." Harry confirmed, looking down at his redheaded yearmate. The quicker this ended the better. Weasley was a loud and opinionated little idiot at the best of times, so actually interacting with him more than necessary was a chore. He was essentially Malfoy-lite; slightly dumber, lazier and a less blatant waste of air, but just as prejudiced in many ways. "I want to buy your rat."

"Scabbers?" Ron blurted out in shock. "You want to buy _Scabbers_?"

His incredulity was entirely justified. Why would anyone want to buy a mangy old rat?

"I do. Ten galleons."

Ron gaped some more. That was a completely stupid amount of money for a mere rat. You could buy a whole swarm of them for that much.

"Why?" He asked, getting some of his surprise under control.

"I've heard it's a very long lived rat. I'm curious." Harry evaded.

"I'm not going to sell Scabbers to you so that you can...dissect him or something!" Ron retorted hotly.

Harry sighed in exasperation. "I'm not going to dissect him. The worst I'll do is cast some diagnostic spells, but you can rest assured that I won't harm him." _The dementors can do that for me._

"He's been with our family for twelve years." Ron said uncertainly, his greed warring with his loyalty to his pet.

"I know, that's why I'm interested. Look I'll give you fifteen galleons for a rat that probably isn't going to live much longer. It's a bargain any way you look at it."

Ron hesitated. "I don't know..." He was still reluctant to part with his faithful rat, but that was a lot of money.

Harry struggled to keep the irritation off his face. Deciding to help the redhead make a decision, he wiggled his fingers and tossed a few compulsions his way.

 _It's just an old rat, he'll probably die soon anyway._

 _That's a lot of money._

 _I want that money. I NEED it._

Ron still looked to be harboring doubts, to Harry's considerable surprise. The annoying little idiot must be more attached to the rat than he thought if he was able to resist that kind of temptation.

"That's more than twice what a new wand costs." He commented idly. "I've noticed that yours was looking a bit worn out. It seems pretty dangerous to me to be using a damaged and poorly suited wand. Probably makes your spells a lot weaker too."

Ron's resistance finally started crumbling at that. He'd always wanted to stand out and the sudden power boost of a new wand would certainly help him with that. He'd even have enough leftover money to buy a few other things as well.

"I'll...I'll go get him for you."

"Thank you." Harry said, waiting for the boy to turn his back. When he did, he pulled out his wand and sent a much more powerful compulsion at the redhead.

 _I better not tell anyone about this. I'll just tell everyone that Scabbers got lost somewhere._

XXXXX

Ten minutes later, Harry had stuffed Wormtail into a pre-prepared cage that was enchanted to be unbreakable, ignoring Ron's protests about Scabbers being house trained and not needing to be caged. If he tried to transform, it would kill him, which would not be as good as having him alive, but the corpse of Peter Pettigrew would still be useful as evidence and Harry was not inclined to be so charitable to the betrayer of his parents as to be overly concerned whether he was handed over to the Ministry alive or dead.

XXXXX

Remus looked on as the students boarded the Hogwarts Express, going home for the Christmas holidays.

Harry was leaving too. Remus had hoped that the boy would stay so that they could finally talk, but it looked like it wasn't going to happen that way.

Not that he was oblivious to the fact that he could have approached the son of his friends at any time in the past few months, but had kept putting it off instead. It was entirely possible that he would have done the same even if Harry had stayed.

Remus was actually quite ashamed of himself. He was waiting for a boy of thirteen to make the first move instead of plucking up the courage to do it himself. It was getting harder too. The longer he waited, the more awkward the whole thing became. By now he was actually starting to think that it might be best to just leave well enough alone.

"I take it that you still have not spoken to young Harry?" Dumbledore asked from beside him.

Remus heard the gentle admonishment in the Headmaster's words, but could only shrug helplessly in response. He'd meant to so many times, but lost the courage every time he saw Lily's eyes in James' face.

"I do not believe that he will reject you, Remus." The old wizard said softly.

"I just doesn't seem like he needs me." The werewolf replied.

"Harry is remarkably mature young man." Dumbledore agreed.

That was what worried him so much actually. Despite having made friends in recent years, Harry still gave off the feeling of being aloof and separate from the people around him. It would not do for the Chosen One to be indifferent to the fate of the people he was supposed to be saving. He needed to be invested in the fate of Magical Britain by the time of Voldemort's return.

Which was why Remus' procrastinating was starting to exhaust Dumbledore's patience enough that he was seeing fit to prod the man along.

"But one can never have too many friends or family."

"After the holidays. I'll talk to him after the holidays." Remus determined.

XXXXX

As he had done the previous year, Harry took the Hogwarts Express to King's Cross, but called Teeny for transportation to Potter Manor as soon as he was somewhere private.

"Sirius, you're looking better." Harry greeted when the man came into view.

Sirius really did look better. Not as gaunt or as pale, his previously matted hair cut to hang down to his shoulders and his beard styled into a neat goatee. Even his teeth had been repaired from their previously rotten state.

"Amazing what some good food and time away from the dementors will do for a man." Sirius replied jokingly, taking the opportunity to get a better look at his godson. "Have you gotten taller again?"

"I hear that happens a lot with teenagers." Harry replied with dry sarcasm.

"But you're almost as tall as I am!" Sirius protested.

Not that Sirius was hugely tall. He'd been the shortest of the Marauders after Wormtail, something that had always privately annoyed him. James had been a couple of inches bigger than him and Remus had been a veritable giant in comparison. They'd caught up eventually, but Remus had remained the tallest at six feet and two inches.

"Yes, I know." Harry replied with a smirk, rather pleased by that. He had no doubt that his growth would slow down soon, but for now he was going to enjoy the height discrepancy.

Sirius looked briefly torn between irritation and amusement before his expression turned grim.

"Do you have him?"

"He's in my trunk, safely locked in an unbreakable cage." Harry said with a nod.

"I need to talk to him before we turn him over to the DMLE. I need to hear what he has to say for himself." The escaped convict growled, everything in his manner speaking of murderous rage.

Harry knew it was probably a bad idea, but he wanted to hear it too. He might have gotten over the deaths of his parents, but he too harbored a deep well of anger for the one who had betrayed them.

XXXXX

They had Teeny strip one of the unused rooms bare to remove any possible hiding spaces. Then they sealed every exit to prevent any escape attempts.

Only once that was done did Harry take the cage out of his trunk, curling his nose in disgust the whole time.

He had not been overly diligent in either feeding the rat or cleaning up after him for the week that he had had him, so Wormtail was in a sorry state by now. He'd given him enough food and water to survive, but he'd taken quite a bit of vindictive pleasure in leaving him to wallow in his own filth.

Wormtail had been living in a state of terror ever since Ron had handed him over to Harry in exchange for a fat sack of galleons. The whole thing had come so out of the blue that there had been no time to think, no time to make decision. He'd been stuffed into a cage before he'd even properly registered the situation and hadn't been let out since.

Worse, he knew that Harry knew the truth. The boy hadn't really spoken to him, but the anger burning in his green eyes was a clear enough indication.

Now he was being unceremoniously dumped out of the cage, but there was no relief to be found in finally being released from his filthy prison. Not with his old friend Sirius in the room with him and looking fit to tear him to ribbons with his bare hands.

"I need a wand to force him back into human form." Sirius said, staring coldly at the cowering Animagus that apparently had no intention of transforming himself.

Wordlessly, Harry handed over his own.

A minute of Wormtail doing his level best to dodge Sirius' spells and Pettigrew was once again in human form for the first time in twelve years.

He was a sorry sight, and not just because spending so much time in his Animagus form had left him looking permanently ratlike. Short, fat, balding, ugly, shifty eyed. It was like someone had designed a human being for the express purpose of looking untrustworthy. His parents must have been really good at not judging by appearances, because Harry himself wouldn't have trusted someone like this to guard a chamber pot. Someone else's chamber pot at that.

"Sirius, Harry." Pettigrew simpered, as if greeting long lost friends.

"Why, Peter?" Sirius demanded angrily. "Why did you betray James and Lily?"

"I didn't mean to!" Pettigrew whined pitieously. "But the Dark Lord... You have no idea of the powers he possesses. Just ask yourself what you would have done in my place."

"I WOULD HAVE DIED FOR THEM! LIKE YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED FOR THEM!" Sirius roared, completely enraged by the insinuation that Wormtail had just made.

Pettigrew flinched back violently, knowing that he'd blundered by saying that. He still had the Dark Lord's wand on him as well as his own, but he dared not use either. Not with Sirius already pointing one at him. He'd never get a single spell out. He tried a different tactic instead.

"Harry, please! Your father wouldn't have wanted me dead. James would have shown mercy." He didn't really believe that, but he was desperate to survive.

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY!" Sirius yelled again, interrupting any response from Harry himself.

"Don't let him kill me, please!" Wormtail begged, scrabbling towards Harry nearly on all fours.

"Get away from me!" Harry snapped in disgust and backed away. Pettigrew was by far the most revolting person he'd ever encountered, both literally and figuratively. The way that the rat was begging for his life was making him so angry that his Occlumency was threatening to be overwhelmed for the first time in quite a while.

Unlike pretty much every other Occlumancer, Harry had almost completely ignored the part designed for defending the mind from external intrusion. Instead, he had focused on enhancing his ability to control his emotions and to improve his memory.

This was generally a terrible idea, as it actually made it easier for a Legilimancer to rifle through a mind that was well organized but undefended.

Normally, an Occlumancer would first learn to clear their minds into blankness on demand. Once sufficient skill in that was reached, it was possible to create a wall of non-thought to keep Legilimancers out. Of course, a Legilimancer could force their victim to make mental associations by projecting their own thoughts and follow that thread of thought into their memories, leaving it up to the individual skill of the practicioner to decide the winner of the mental struggle. Those who were particularly skilled could even section off their minds to present a false front, duping the Legilimancer into thinking that what they saw was the whole of someone's mind and not just another front. That particular skill was pretty much a requirement for a wizard spy.

Only once that was mastered was it advisable for the Occlumancer to begin putting the chaos of one's mind to order. This had great benefits for emotional control and memory, but it wasn't a skill that could ever be mastered. Much like the actual defensive parts of Occlumency, it was an ability that had no real upper limit and needed to be practiced often lest it degrade.

Harry practiced his Occlumency almost religiously, knowing that he was much more at risk of losing control of his emotions than most people.

"Harry! Please!" Wormtail howled as Sirius cast what was essentially an upgraded version of a stinging hex at him, the only difference being that this one felt rather more like a hot stove than a hard slap.

The problem with trying to control your emotions was that the cause of said emotions was often still present and making things harder. In this case, that would be Pettigrew's incessant begging for mercy.

Sirius was quite clearly not getting any calmer either if his progressively crueler spell selection was any indication.

"Shut up." Harry ground out, wanting both of them to just _stop_ until he could shift the fury he was currently feeling to the back of his mind where it could be dealt with later.

But they didn't stop. Sirius had a mad glint in his eye that didn't indicate self-control and was getting disturbingly close to the Cruciatus, heedless of the fact that Harry's wand would carry that spell history.

"I'm sorry!" Pettigrew sobbed.

"Shut up!" Harry repeated, louder and angrier this time. His runes felt like a thousand angry ants crawling over his body.

He was ignored again. Sirius kept on screaming a stream of vitriol at the cowering rat Animagus, intersped with moderate-to-severe torture curses. And of course, Pettigrew was in no state to consider the fact that his begging was only making things worse.

"Make him stop!" He wailed, somehow managing to sound even more pathetic than before. "Lily wouldn't have wanted this! Please make him stop! Do it for your mother, Harry."

Sirius looked about fit to explode with rage at that, pushed completely beyond rational thought at having the traitor invoke the name of the woman he'd betrayed to draw some mercy out of her son.

Harry wasn't much better off than his godfather. He'd been exerting monumental effort to not give in to his rage and join in, but everyone had limits and Pettigrew had just exceeded them.

"SHUT UP!" He roared, thrusting his hand out at the rat and willing him to stop his infuriating begging with his whole being.

Harry had long since noted that powerful emotions made it easier to use magic without a wand. He had also noted that they tended to twist the spells into something different. The more powerful and chaotic the emotion, the more the spell deviated from the purpose intended by its caster.

Harry had only wanted Wormtail to stop talking, but that last sentence had pushed him beyond the limits of his control. His spell came out powered by the full force of his rage and rage was not a precise emotion by any means. Whereas a normal silencing spell might be a scalpel, his rage turned it into a broadsword. This was further compounded by the fact that Harry didn't actually know how to cast a wandless silencing spell, so he had just brutally pushed his magic outward, furiously demanding that it do his will.

The problem was that Harry kind of wanted to hurt Wormtail too.

The spell roared out of his hand, tinted the fiery orange of a blasting curse. It streaked towards the traitor's mouth just as Harry had intended. It also silenced Wormtail just like Harry had intended.

Unlike what Harry had intended, it did so by blowing his head and a good portion of his chest into gory pulp.

The two still living wizards stumbled back from the explosion of gore that painted the whole room in bloodsplatter, expressions of shock on both of their faces.

Sirius looked to his godson and worked his jaw in an attempt to say something, but nothing came out. Wormtail's sudden death had snapped him out of the mad haze he'd been in, but now he was simply so shocked that words seemed wholly insufficient.

Harry was in an even worse state. The rage had gone out of him with the spell and the shock of the fact that he'd just killed someone left him reeling. The disgusting sight of a man's open chest cavity spilling pulped internal organs across the room didn't help. He quickly added to the mess by voiding his stomach on the floor.

 _I killed a man._

 _I_ _ **murdered**_ _a man._

Harry felt something crack inside him at the realization and not in an entirely figurative sense at that. He could feel the change in his magic.

There was no way to describe it with words, no analogy that would suffice. The closest thing he could think of was a pane of glass or a mirror that had been hit hard enough to crack but not enough to break. He could practically feel the newly made cracks in his soul and magic spreading through him as the psychological impact of what he'd just done sank in.

He was distantly aware that Sirius was stammering something but it was all just so much noise. Teeny had showed up at some point too and seemed to be panicking about something. Probably the mess.

The absurd thought made him want to giggle. Judging by the worried looks he got, he might have actually giggled.

Then things somehow managed to get worse.

As the cracks kept spreading, another sensation became known to him. _Arhain_ suddenly began to radiate cold. He barely noticed at first, but then it began to spread. First to _Aul'El_ and _Da'Roir_ , which were part of the same set, then to the other two sets with whom it shared weaker connections, fingers of cold creeping through the anchors of his magic.

And with the cold came the Dark. It seeped through the newly made cracks in his soul, grasping at him and his magic just like the dementor on the train had done.

Harry gasped at the feel of it and damn near panicked when he saw his breath misting as it exited his chilled lungs.

He ignored Sirius and stumbled out of the room at a sprint, wanting nothing more than to get outside. He needed to think and a room that reeked of blood, death, vomit and most recently, shit, wasn't helping with that.

He made it out the front door in record time, falling to his hands and knees as soon as he reached the outside. It was December and the Hogwarts Express had taken a long time to get to London, so the sky was already dark.

"Alright, don't panic. Think." He said to himself, staunchly ignoring the slow creep of Dark through his damaged soul and the chill of his breath that had nothing to do with the season.

It took a little while to force his mind away from the murder he'd just committed and focus on his more pressing problem.

He didn't for a moment believe that this was a normal reaction to a kill, not even to a murder. That meant that it had to be something to do with him and the only thing it was likely to be was his runes.

 _My runes, what did I do with my runes that would cause this? Does it have something to do with the dementor? No, it has to be earlier than that. Nobody else can sense the Dark like I can. They feel the effects of the dementors but not the Dark that makes them what they are._

There was only one rune he could think of that would be responsible for this.

 _Arhain._

Stealth. Secrets. Shadows. The Dark of Night.

He'd only used it for its association with secrets and stealth. He'd thought its association with darkness to be irrelevant. He'd thought of it of course, it was impossible not to, but he'd considered it to be just a pointless bit of fluff. It came out of a game after all. There was nothing scary about the night.

Now Harry looked up into the night sky and wondered how many stupid wizards had made the same mistake, accidentally dabbling with forces beyond all mortal comprehension.

Because now that his soul had cracked open, the Dark had found a way inside. It must have lingered around his magic ever since he'd carved _Arhain_ into himself while thinking of the infinite void of space, just waiting for the day when something happened to put a crack into his soul. It could very well be the reason why the dementors had been drawn to him.

He could feel the Dark clearer now than he ever had and the sheer vastness of it threatened to undo him. It was _everywhere_ , stretching across the whole of the Universe, it's hungry cold presence held back only by the raging fire of the stars. He realized with painful clarity that this must be the reason why magicals constantly kept braying about the dangers of Dark Magic. They had long since forgotten what the real Dark was, but the warning itself had survived.

He knew what he had to do now. Another ritual, this one invoking the Sun and stars, the Light. He'd already been preparing one, so much of the groundwork was already done. It would have to be modified, but not by much. He hadn't thought that the Sun had any noteworthy magic in it when he'd chosen it, now he had to wonder if it hadn't been some magical instinct that had made him decide to use the Avariel runes again, this time invoking an entity in direct opposition to the Dark.

Harry let out a half hysterical laugh. Every book on rituals that he'd ever read about had warned against invoking unknown or disparate forces, now he was deliberately going to do the latter as a counter to his accidental use of the former. It was an incredibly reckless course of action that had a good chance of killing him in a truly spectacular fashion.

But there was no choice. If he didn't do it, the Dark would consume him from within and leave him hollow.


	9. Chapter 9

**To those of you who have asked if I got some of my ideas from reading "With Strength of Steel Wings", yes I did. It was the fic that convinced me to try my hand at a HP story and I recommend it highly.**

 **And for those of you noting the influence from Dark Souls, yeah I've been watching lore theory videos on youtube a lot lately.**

 **Much credit goes to Joe Lawyer for his help in polishing up the rough edges on the chapter.**

XXXXX

Sirius stared at his fleeing godson's back, feeling as if the world had just taken a sharp left turn without warning anyone.

Pettigrew was dead.

The thought was as satisfying as it was horrible.

He hadn't meant for things to go that far, but once Peter had started talking and begging for his miserable life, still making excuses even now, the familiar red haze from twelve years ago had come down. Sirius was actually surprised that he'd limited himself to non-lethal spells, but that was probably more to do with the fact that his mind had been on causing pain and he hadn't been in any state to shift mental gears.

He'd picked up quite a few nasty spells from his family even if he hadn't wanted to and Azkaban had given him a long time to fantasize about using them.

The fact that it would now be much harder to prove his innocence was a distant secondary concern to the fact that Harry had killed someone. Thirteen was way too young to have that hanging over you.

Then was the fact that Harry had cast a lethal spell without his wand. The most wandless magic that Sirius had ever seen had come from Dumbledore, but even that had been just parlor tricks and not really anything too impressive aside from the fact that it was wandless.

But his godson's astonishing achievement wasn't important right now. He needed to go see if Harry was alright.

He found him outside, kneeling in the snow and staring at the night sky with a look that was hard to decipher. It looked like something between shock, awe and a sort of horrified realization.

Harry picked himself up before Sirius could make his way over, his face now hardened into an expression of driven purpose that he'd last seen on Lily's.

"Harry..." He started, not really sure what to say to make this situation better.

"Not now, Sirius." Harry snapped, brushing past him roughly.

Sirius shrank back, incorrectly assuming that his godson was angry at him for losing it with Wormtail.

Not wanting to let things stew, he ran to catch up to the stomping thirteen year old and grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Harry, I'm so-"

He made it no further than that. Harry spun around and grabbed him by his robes, actually lifting him off the ground, much to his incredulity.

"What part of 'not now' do you not understand?!" Harry hissed furiously, tossing him aside and sending him stumbling into a couch. "Whatever you have to say, say it later. I have somethig that I have to do. Until then, don't bother me."

And Sirius obeyed, cowed into submission by a boy twenty years younger than him. He obeyed because Harry seemed so much more than just a thirteen-year old wizard in that moment. Too tall and too strong and too powerful. Age didn't mean much when he could feel the unmistakable pressure of a powerful wizard's magic pressing threateningly into his own, daring him to rise up in challenge.

Worse than any of that though, was the sense of something inhuman staring out from Harry's eyes.

XXXXX

Harry regretted blowing up at Sirius like that, but he was still grateful that it kept the man off his back. He'd apologize later. He had no time to talk about the giant fuck up they had to deal with now. He had no time to deal with the fact that he'd killed a man. He had no time to explain to his godfather about the wandless magic and the runes, which he knew that he was now going to have to do.

The only thing he had time for was to finish preparing for the next ritual and he didn't even have as much time for that as he'd have liked.

His soul had stopped cracking and the spread of Dark had slowed, but it was still spreading nonetheless. He expected that it would always be there even if his next ritual managed to balance it out enough to save him.

What the Void took, the Void kept. Of this he was certain. He had made a sacrifice to that entity, giving it a place in his magic in exchange for power. He had done it ignorantly, unknowingly, but he had done it all the same. It would not leave.

So many questions and theories crowded his thoughts, but he had to focus. He had to hurry before the Dark did more than merely ooze through the cracks in his soul, before it started taking things that could never be regained. Because he was afraid that it would do worse than just kill him. If it wanted that, it only needed to wait. Everyone and everything went to the Void in the end. Harry wasn't sure how he knew that, but he knew it.

What he was truly afraid of here wasn't dying, it was the grim certainty that dementors weren't really Non-Beings at all, but the empty shells of wizards who had dabbled with the Void without taking the necessary precautions. Now nothing more than hollow carriers of Dark, their magic turned into a conduit for the Void, existing to take things from a world that was otherwise protected by the Sun.

XXXXX

A day later, the final preparations were complete and the ritual was set to begin.

Harry could feel that the Dark inside him had grown stronger, but not yet so strong that he was too late. It had been getting harder to focus, harder to feel afraid of what was happening to him. The world now seemed just a touch surreal, as if he was looking at it through a dirty pane of glass. As the Dark grew in strength, his sense of self waned.

Harry wasn't oblivious to the rather disturbing similarities that his situation had with the Dark Souls game franchise. He'd never really played it, but he had had quite enjoyed its quite interesting lore, as well as its surprisingly deep and subtle plot.

The fact that he was now intending to link himself to the Sun in order to stave off the Dark amused him and terrified him in equal measure. He remembered all too clearly what happened to the Chosen Undead if he decided to link the fires in the Kiln of the First Flame.

He _really_ hoped that he wasn't going to set himself on fire doing this. It was going to be his last ritual one way or another, because if this worked then he didn't want to risk upsetting the balance with any further additions.

He had originally been intending to perform this ritual in the Potter ritual chamber like all the others, but it just didn't feel right to do this one beneath the ground.

That was why he was now making his way away from the manor in the pre-dawn darkness, moving towards the east. The light covering of snow crunched under his shoes as he walked and the night was cold and black, seeming even colder and darker because the skies were clear. The moon and stars did nothing to counter that feeling when he could feel the Void pressing in around him.

He turned his mind away from that, knowing instinctively that focusing on it would only make things worse. He focused on making a suitable platform for the ritual instead, using the wand he'd retaken from Sirius on his way out to transfigure a flat stone surface and then inscribing the instructions on it that would allow the knife to act independently.

This time, there was no hesitation as he took off his shirt and began the ritual.

" _Ca'Daith._ "

Grace. Power. Music of the Stars.

A rune to to call on the Light magic that he was now certain was inherent to the stars and also to make sure that he did not rely completely on the Sun. It would be the height of irony to find out that this final rune set only worked during the day. He decided to have it carved just under his left collarbone. It seemed appropriate to have it mirror _Arhain_.

" _Yen'Lui._ "

Balance. Harmony. Chaos.

This rune's sole purpose was to ensure that the clash of Light and Dark inside him didn't have explosive results. He feared that the Sun would burn him out if he did not use this rune. There was an uncomfortably high chance of it happening anyway. This one was carved on the lower end of his breastbone, equidistant from both A _rhain_ and _Ca'Daith_.

" _Sol._ "

The Sun. The Ever Seeing Eye. Consciousness.

This rune was doubled and carved into his temples. He'd been planning to use it to enhance his eyes and give himself the ability to see magic as well as expand his capacity to feel it. That had now become its secondary purpose, but Harry was still pleased that he was able to sneak in one final enhancement.

Once the carving was done, Harry took a deep breath and waited tensely, knowing that the ritual was not over yet. Of the three runes, only _Yen'Lui_ felt active, which was as he had expected. The other two would become active once they were hit by sunlight, which should be any second now if the brightening sky was any indication.

He grunted in surprised pain as the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon and washed over him. He hadn't expected that magic born in the violence of the Solar Core would be gentle, but its fierceness still surprised him. How had wizards ever gotten the idea into their heads that Light was gentle?

 _Ca'Daith_ and _Sol_ burned. _Yen'Lui_ prickled madly as it attempted to temper the violent reaction between Light and Dark.

Harry shut his eyes tighly as _Sol_ executed its purpose. They stung terribly and he felt them bleed from the sudden change. He'd expected that, so it didn't worry him.

At the same time, he felt his perception expand as the rune's power touched his mind. The sensations were jumbled, unfamiliar as they were to him, but what was happening inside him was clear.

Dark gave way before Light as was its nature, but with the understanding that it would still be there, that it could never be pushed out. His other runes broke open and bled as Light burned through them. Where Dark was cold and slow, Light was _fire_ and voraciously consumed all it touched.

Once it had pushed the Dark out of all the runes except A _rhain_ , where a shard of Dark was connected to the infinite Void and could not be burned away, it surged into the cracks in his soul. It didn't hurt in the physical sense, but Harry knew instantly that he had preferred the gentle creep of Dark. Given the slightest opportunity, Light would burn him to nothing.

It was a decidedly uncomfortable experience to feel the Dark slowly relinquishing its grip on the edges of his damaged soul as Light advanced, but there was nothing to do except endure it as _Yen'Lui_ worked to keep things from spiralling out of control.

But there was one chunk of his soul that the Dark had grasped tightly and seemed intent on taking. It had nearly pulled it away from the whole.

 _No, not my soul._ Harry realized, now seeing that the piece did not match the rest of him. It had a dormant quality to it, but it was unquestionably foreign. _That isn't mine, it doesn't belong there. How did a piece of someone else's soul attach itself to me?_

It must have been with him for a long time, to have gone undetected until he'd cracked his soul enough to expose it. Unlike the rest, this one piece felt as if it been rather haphazardly attached to him and had come loose once his soul was no longer whole.

 _Voldemort, it has to be. Something of him must have been left inside me when he tried to kill me._

Not really sure what he was doing, but knowing that he definitely did not want that madman's soul latched on to his own, Harry _pushed_. He focused on that foreign soul shard and began forcing it out. He had been afraid of what would happen if the Dark took any of his soul, but it was more than welcome to the piece of Voldemort.

Its already tenuos grip on him broke once he rejected it so completely and the Dark took it instantly, as it did all unanchored souls.

With that done, the Dark put up no more struggle and allowed Light free reign.

Squinting with painfully stinging eyes, Harry shuffled back towards the manor.

XXXXX

Sirius hadn't been quite sure what to do with himself for the past day. Neither Teeny nor Charlus and Dorea would tell him what Harry was up to, but he was sure that it was something big.

His godson had locked himself in the study and hadn't left it since. His wand was still in Sirius' possession, apparently being considered unimportant, which was an attitude that Sirius had never expected to see from any witch or wizard. Then again, he hadn't expected to see this level of wandless magic either.

In the absence of anything else to do, he had put Wormtail's gruesome remains into stasis and stuffed them into an unused trunk. He was quite unrecognizable, but there were magical ways to determine a dead wizard's identity by his blood as long as they had his magical signature on file, which the Ministry should have. The corpse could still be useful.

Finally, after he had nearly paced a hole into the floor in fruitless worry, Harry had come out of the study.

Unfortunately, all he had done was grab his wand from Sirius possession with a terse warning to stay inside. He'd tried to get some answers out of Charlus and Dorea again, but they merely looked uncomfortable and still refused to speak. The only thing they would say was that it was Harry's secret to tell and that he should leave him alone to do what he was going to do.

Finally, Harry came back, but Sirius couldn't feel anything besides stunned horror at the sight of him.

His godson was only wearing a pair of pants and streaked with blood from head to toe. Even more disturbing were the twin trails of bloody tears coming from his eyes, eyes that were so bloodshot that the sclera had effectively turned completely red and whose green color now gleamed visibly with magic.

"Harry?" Sirius asked cautiously.

"Not yet, Sirius." Harry replied with weary clam. "Let me get cleaned up first, then we'll talk.

Sirius looked worried, but nodded all the same. His godson had been up to something obviously dangerous and quite probably illegal, but it seemed like the worst was over. He could wait a little longer to get answers.

XXXXX

XXXXX

"...and here we are." Harry finished, slouched in an armchair.

Sirius looked at his godson, looking less like some kind of eldritch abomination and more like a human being now that the blood had been cleaned off, his sclera had gone back to white and he was dressed in a comfortable bathrobe. He could almost convince himself that nothing had changed, if only it wasn't for the rune that he could plainly see carved into his godson's forehead now that he'd been told it was there and the shimmer of magic in his eyes that made them a touch brighter than they'd been before.

It had been quite a tale and Sirius wasn't sure whether to be impressed or horrified.

"Harry, don't take this the wrong way, but what the hell is wrong with you?" He asked in a deadpan tone of voice. "What kind of eleven year old is introduced to magic and thinks 'I think I'll ritualistically mutilate myself'?"

"The kind that grew up thinking of all the cool enhancement rituals he could do?" Harry asked rhetorically.

Sirius went on as if he hadn't said anything. "And then, when you figured out that your first set was giving you the urge to shag your foster mother, you didn't think that it might have been a good idea to rethink things?"

Harry didn't know it yet, but this was mildly hypocritical of Sirius. It wouldn't have stopped him either. Well, it would have if it had made him lust after his own mother, who had been a hag in every sense of the word except the literal one, but being attracted to a fine piece of ass like Katherine Shaw would not have bothered him in the slightest, no matter his relation to her.

"It seemed like a fair trade." Harry shrugged. "An overactive libido and a bad temper in exchange for a stronger body and faster maturation? I regret nothing."

"And your second set, the one that nearly _turned you into a dementor_ just now?" Sirius demanded. _That_ had been an unwelcome revelation and he wasn't sure if he believed his godson's claim of dementors being the leftovers of wizards who'd carelessly dabbled with Dark. It was just too creepy for words.

"That one I might have done differently if I knew what was going to happen." Harry admitted.

"Might have?!"

"Despite the close shave, I'm actually pretty happy with the way things turned out. You have no idea about all the things I see and know now." He could see the magic in the manor and in Sirius and he could feel the Sun in the sky. There were so many things that he had been blind to before.

"And Wormtail?" Sirius challenged, becoming frustrated with his godson's recklesness. He'd thought that Harry was a lot like Remus; quiet, studious, thoughtful and he was, but when it came to magic he was a hundred times as reckless as all the Marauders put together.

Harry sobered instantly. He'd been trying not to think of that.

"We might still be able to use him to clear your name, we'll just have to be creative about the cause of his death."

"That's not what I meant, Harry." Sirius said gently.

"I know."

"You don't have to feel guilty. I probably would have killed him myself if you hadn't done it."

"Sirius, I killed a man because I lost my temper. Don't patronize me." And he couldn't even feel too sorry about it for any reason but for the fact that it would make proving Sirius' innocence harder. Yes, he wished that he hadn't done it, but he was not as broken up about it as he felt that he should be.

The worst part was that he didn't know if that was yet another side-effect of his runes or if it was something about him. Were the runes or his exposure to Light and Dark meddling with his sense of morality, or was he simply somewhat lacking in that department to begin with? Either way it was a disturbing thought.

He could feel the potential to cast the Killing Curse within him now. It was such a terribly simple spell, as simple as Lumos. Nothing but raw killing intent given power through magic. No shield could block it because it was so pure in its intent that only something equally pure could block it. Something like a mother's willing sacrifice for her child. It wasn't an Unforgivable because the spell was Dark or evil, it was an Unforgivable because you had to be a killer already to cast it.

XXXXX

That evening found Harry on the highest balcony of the manor, looking to the west.

He and Sirius hadn't managed to work out a viable solution to his fugitive status just yet. They had tentative plans, but nothing that they were in a hurry to implement at this point for fear of it backfiring spectacularly. Wormtail's death made things complicated. They'd have to spin it in a way that didn't make it look like murder.

Now Harry was waiting for the sunset, running his hands over his invisibility cloak and wondering at the piece of Dark he could see and sense in it now. Such a strange thing that he'd carried it around for years and never known it.

He'd read that invisibility cloaks tended to degrade into uselessness after a few years, but this one had by all accounts been around for decades at the least. Harry knew that this was due to it being infused with Dark. It had to be one of a kind, as he doubted that the secrets to this kind of craft had been shared beyond the original maker. Maybe Sirius would know about any legendary invisibility cloaks or similar artefacts.

When the Sun began to set, Harry observed it with a rapturous smile. He'd never paid much attention to sunsets before, but now he found them impossible to ignore.

How could he, when he could feel the Sun's blinding presence recede to make way for the Dark and the stars? The Sun was too close and too powerful. It blotted out so much. Now that it had set, he could see and feel the distant Light of uncountable billions of stars against the backdrop of Dark. He'd never thought that something so beautiful could exist. Even more, it was echoed inside his own soul. The Light inside him waned with the Sun, making way for Dark, speckled with the Light of the distant stars.

If given the choice to redo things with the knowledge he now had, he wouldn't change this. The risk of death and hollowing had been worth it to be able to see magic as he saw it now. He would have done it in a more controlled manner, but he would have done it anyway.

"For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been and there you will long to return." He murmured to himself, recalling the old quote from Da Vinci that he'd come across years ago. It fit the situation perfectly.

Now that he'd seen past the tiny perspective of wizards, he could never again confine himself to that world. Wizards who learned spells but did not _know_ them, who used magic but did not _know_ it, who's best explanation boiled down to 'it just was'. It would drive him mad as surely as having to pretend that he was a toddler again.

XXXXX

"Legendary invisibility cloaks?" Sirius said in surprise. "Why would you want to know about that?"

"There's something special about this one." Harry answered, holding up his father's cloak but not elaborating further.

"I don't really know the story behind it." Sirius said with a shrug. "I know that it's a Potter family heirloom, but that's all."

"And that doesn't strike you as strange?" Harry asked pointedly. "Invisibility cloaks aren't supposed to last that long."

"A lot of old magical artefacts are pretty extraordinary by today's standards. To quote a muggle, 'they don't make 'em like they used to'."

"I'm surprised that you can actually quote a muggle." Harry snorted.

"I'll have you know that I'm actually very knowledgeable about muggles." Sirius protested indignantly. "My family hated them, so I made sure to be as muggle as possible. I even got myself a motorcycle, though I did enchant it to fly. That's actually where I heard that particular saying."

"Riiiight." Harry drawled laconically, deciding not to ask whether Sirius had a license. "But back to the point, legendary invisibility cloaks?"

"Nothing really comes to mind." Sirius admitted. "The only thing I can think off is the tale of the Deathly Hallows, but that's just a children's story."

"Tell it to me."

"Aren't you a bit old for bedtime stories?" The dog Animagus teased.

Harry just rolled his eyes and waved at him, silently telling him to get on with it.

"I'll tell it to you if you tell me how your night with those two lovely ladies of yours went." Sirius bargained. He and James had always swapped details about these things, but Harry was proving to be a more secretive fellow. James hadn't become like that until he'd gotten together with Lily.

Harry rolled his eyes again. "What's there to tell? We met up somewhere private, we got naked, we had sex, we fell asleep."

"You can't cheapen your first sexual experience like that, especially since it was a threesome!" Sirius protested.

"I lost my virginity back in July." Harry replied blandly.

"Damn!" Sirius cursed.

"What?"

"That means you were twelve at the time."

"So?"

"That means you ditched your virginity two years sooner than me."

"So?"

"How am I supposed to be a rolemodel if you outperform me in everything?"

"You can stick around and provide a morale boost by showing me how great I am in comparison."

"That's harsh, Harry."

"So is life, now get to the bedtime story."

Sirius grinned at the banter, fondly remembering similar verbal spars with James. His best friend might be gone, but something of him had survived in his son.

"Alright, fine. It goes like this..."

XXXXX

House elves were weird.

That was Harry's conclusion as he watched Teeny use some magic with his new magesight, as he'd requested. The small house elf's magic looked like nothing he'd ever seen. He had admittedly not seen much since he'd only just acquired the ability to see magic, but it just looked...weird, almost like human magic, but so _warped._

He'd tried to enlist her help in figuring out wandless magic soon after he'd first come to the manor, but that had been a dead end. House elves had no idea how they used magic, they just did. That had been quite frustrating to hear at the time. How can you use something if you didn't know how you used it? His persistent questioning had nearly driven Teeny to tears when she had been unable to answer him, so he'd let it go.

House elves also couldn't use spells in the same fashion as wizards. In fact, they couldn't cast spells at all. The closest aproximation they could make was a blast of force that could pass for a banishing or bludgening spell. Pretty much everything else they could do revolved around their duties as servants, which made sense in light of the fact that house elves would literally die if they weren't bonded to a master or a powerful magical location for an extended period.

Which of course made not a lick of sense if you took it out of the Wizarding World sandbox and looked at it from a broader perspective. There was simply no conceivable situation in which an entire sapient species would evolve to be slaves to another, no matter how special witches and wizards thought they were.

Conclusion? House elves weren't natural.

Admittedly it was a conclusion based mostly on conjecture, but it made more sense to him than the alternative, especially when the feel of their magic was taken into account.

"Teeny, do house elves eat?" He asked.

"Sir?" She asked, confused.

"Do you need food the way that I do?"

"No sir, house elves only be needing a master's magic." She answered with a shake of her head, sending her big ears flopping everywhere.

Definitely unnatural. Harry was betting on some kind of sophisticated homunculi that had over time developed sapience. He certainly wouldn't put it past some wizard to have gotten the idea to create a servant race because he couldn't be bothered to fluff his own pillows.

Probably best to keep that bit of conjecture to himself. He couldn't think of a single positive outcome if he started spread that around. At least not right now.

XXXXX

"You know that this is illegal, right?" Sirius asked wryly.

"Sirius, you are a fugitive from the law and I am harboring you, not to mention the mangled carcass we have stashed in a trunk. I hardly think that the legalities of you teaching me to apparate four years ahead of schedule are noteworthy."

"Alright, just checking." He'd tried. If Harry didn't want to be a responsible citizen, then far be it from Sirius to try and make him one.

With a noisy crack, Sirius apparated about three feet to the left.

"Huh, that's interesting." Harry commented.

"What is?" The past few days with his godson had shown Sirius that Harry sometimes noticed things about magic that most people missed. Lily had that quality too, though not quite the same. Maybe it was due to them having a muggle upbringing.

"I wonder how it works?" Harry mused, apparently to himself.

"The way it was explained to me is that you have to keep the three D's in mind. Destination, Determination and Deliberation. You need to keep the destination fixed firmly in your mind, you have to be utterly determined to reach it, and you have to be very deliberate but unhurried about it. Once you've got all that, you just kind of... _will_ yourself to wherever you want to go."

"Yes, that's how you _do_ it, but how does it _work_?"

Sirius blinked. "What?"

Harry sighed. Honestly.

Sirius frowned. Lily had sighed exactly like that whenever someone said something especially stupid to her. James had gotten sighed at like that a lot.

"Do it again."

Sirius shrugged to himself and apparated again.

"Again."

Crack.

"Again."

Crack.

"Again."

"Harry, why am I apparating back and forth like this?"

"Because I'm trying to figure out how exactly you're using your magic to create a pathway through space without killing yourself."

"Such a bloody Ravenclaw." Sirius complained. "Just try it already. I'm pretty sure that I can fix you if you end up splinching yourself."

"I'd rather not test that belief, now do it again."

"Fine." Crack.

"Again."

Crack.

"Again."

Sigh. Crack.

"What does it feel like to apparate?"

"Kind of like being squeezed through a tube actually. Pretty unpleasant until you get used to it."

"Hmm, do it again."

An even more dramatic sigh. Crack.

"What's with the crack?"

"No idea, but it happens every time someone apparates?"

"Probably just violently displaced air then, but better safe than sorry. Do it again."

Sigh with eyeroll. Crack.

"Ah, I see."

"What are you seeing, oh wise one?" Sirius asked dryly.

"You're forming a narrow pathway through space and then forcing yourself through it. The interesting part is that the 'exit' side of this little magical wormhole has to be anchored in some way to the planet for it to be safe. That must be why rushing it leads to splinching, you don't anchor yourself properly and come out wrong. How you're managing to do it subconsciously escapes me though, probably lucky chance. Maybe...hmm...Apparating into the air doesn't work, does it? "

"No. In fact, apparating onto anything at all that isn't solid ground is a good way to get splinched, sometimes even killed and there's even stories of people vanishing altogether, never to be seen again." Sirius said, a bit confused as to how Harry had guessed that. And what the hell was a wormhole anyway?

"A quirk of thought then. You automatically associate solid ground with the planet and that's apparently enough to keep you safe. Rather amusing how close to messy death you are every time you apparate."

"There you go, scaring me with all these _theories_ like a typical Ravenclaw." Sirius said. "I really need to teach you a few Gryffindor qualities."

"Blockheaded stupidity isn't a quality, Sirius."

"Your mother said that a lot, but I never gave in to her peer pressure."

"Obviously."

"Well then smarty pants, why don't you show me how it's done?"

Harry honestly thought apparition to be a rather insane mode of travel, but instantaneus teleportation was entirely too useful a skill to not learn simply because it was crazy. Occlumency helped him fix the image of his destination in his mind and then he simply willed himself to pass through the intervening space in a wormhole made of his own magic, making sure that the exit was latched on to the planet to prevent any mishaps. Earth wasn't a stationery object in space after all and he had a feeling that those people who had disappeared had ended up drifting through vacuum.

Crack.

Sirius hadn't been kidding, that really was unpleasant.

"Showoff."

Harry smirked at his godfather, openly gloating at one upping him.

"So, is there any other illegal bit of magic that you'd like to learn today?" Sirius asked sarcastically.

Harry considered it for a moment and then nodded. He could practice apparating later.

"The Animagus transformation."

Sirius was surprised for a moment and then chuckled gleefully.

"Ah, a new Marauder in the making!"

"Hate to break it to you, Sirius, but I'm not much of a prankster." Harry pointed out.

"I'm sure we can turn you into one." Sirius said with authority and then affected a pensive look. "But I think we might want to wait until the summer to start teaching you that. It's not something that you can do in a few days."

For one thing, the Animagus transformation could be dangerous and Harry had demonstrated a disturbingly large amount of recklessness with dangerous magic. For another, if he tried to finish it on his own and screwed up, he'd have to go to McGonagall to fix it and that would expose the secret. Being an Animagus was way more fun if nobody knew it.

XXXXX

In the end, Sirius and Harry decided to deal with the Pettigrew situation over the summer. Neither one of them had any faith in the fairness of the government, one from bitter experience and the other from a deliberately cultivated sense of cynicism, so making hasty decision was a no-no. They would communicate through letters for the rest of the school year and hammer out a plan to be executed during the summer. Harry would have the free time to deal with it then and this was something that his fame would actually be useful for. Besides getting laid that was.

Harry sighed in his train compartment, alone for now. Hogwarts was starting to become a nuisance. He still loved to learn about magic, but other things were starting to pile up and he couldn't keep putting them off until the summer all the time. Not to mention that he was outpacing the curriculum and starting to become quite bored in a number of classes.

"Hello again, Harry." A dreamy voice greeted as the door slid open.

Of course, there were upsides to Hogwarts, Harry conceded with a smile.

"Hey Luna."

"How was your Christmas?" She asked as she sat down.

"It was interesting." He replied, barely managing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"I suppose it must have been." Luna agreed, peering at his eyes.

Harry knew that they were too bright. His green eyes had always been vibrant, but now they verged on the point of glowing. No doubt a side effect of the _Sol_ runes constantly keeping a bit of Light in them.

Mercifully, Luna apparently decided not to ask questions. "I had a visit from Ginny."

"Oh?" Harry questioned, more out of a desire to move past the topic of his eyes than any real curiousity. Luna's 'go with the flow' attitude was something that he'd always liked.

"Yes, she wanted to wish me a merry Christmas and speculate about how many girls you're sleeping with."

"Really?" Ginny had drifted off into acquaintance status this year, apparently unable to deal with the fact that he was nothing at all like she'd imagined. She clearly wasn't above gossiping though.

"Ginny thinks there's only Bryanna, but I'm pretty sure that you've also got one in Slytherin."

Harry was normally very reticent with information of any kind, he hadn't even told Luna about his invisibility cloak, but right at that moment he felt like being honest. Maybe keeping quiet about this just didn't seem important anymore after what had happened recently, or maybe Sirius was a bad influence on him.

"I actually have three. There's also this muggle girl that I meet up with during the summer."

Luna clapped her hands excitedly at the news. "Oh, that's wonderful! It makes my Christmas present even more appropriate!"

"How so?" Harry asked, bemused.

Instead of answering, Luna went for her trunk and dug out a book.

"' _The Lovegood Guide on how to Love Very Good'_?" Harry read the title, even more bemused.

"My great-great-grandmother was making a study of sex magic and preparing to publish that book before the European Ministries unanimously classed sex magic as a Dark Art in 1870. She wasn't able to publish it after that, but she still finished it." Luna explained without being prompted.

"How in the world could sex magic be classed as a Dark Art?" Harry demanded irritably. Of all the stupid things to classify as a Dark Art...

"It was first used by the Succubi and the Ministry deemed that anything used by them had to be a Dark Art."

"Succubi are real?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Not any more. The last of them was killed in 1637." Luna answered mournfully.

"Let me guess, they weren't the soul sucking demons of myth but just a misunderstood race of gorgerous women?" Harry ventured. He wouldn't put it past wizards, or in this case more likely witches, to wipe out another species out of some misplaced sense of righteousness.

"Its never been proven that they sucked out souls." Luna chirped, causing Harry to blink at the implications of the statement. "There's a short exposition on Succubi at the beginning of the book if you're interested."

Harry was indeed interested and would be reading the book cover to cover as soon as he got the chance, but first he had his own gift to give.

"I've got something for you as well." He told Luna and went for his own trunk.

"He's so cute!" Luna squeed, looking at the hamster that Harry had just handed her.

"He's more than just cute," Harry said sternly, putting herculean effort into keeping a grin off his face. "this is Boo and he's a miniature giant space hamster."

"Really?" Luna asked in awe.

"Really." Harry confirmed. "He will smite evil and gouge out its eyeballs whenever he sees it."

Perhaps playing on Luna's eccentricies was a bit mean, but he hadn't been able to resist. The mental imagery had simply been too hilarious and the girl certainly seemed to be happy with her new pet. Hamsters and rangers everywhere were surely rejoicing.

XXXXX

The return to Hogwarts was a bit distracting to Harry. The thestrals were touched by Dark. He hadn't expected that, though perhaps he should have. The realization distracted him thorougly and made him poor company on the ride back as he considered the implications.

Was that state natural or had some overly curious wizard wanted to see what would happen if he infused a winged horse with Dark? He was going to need to investigate that eventually.

So preoccupied was he that he barely noticed the speculative looks several people gave his eyes, wondering if their memory was playing tricks on them or if they had always been that bright.

His thoughts were still on the thestrals when he felt yet another presence of Dark, this time as Dumbledore rose from the staff table to make a speech.

"I have at long last been able to prevail upon Minister Fudge to recall the dementors back to Azkaban, as it seems clear that Sirius Black has no intention of coming to Hogwarts." The old wizard was saying.

Harry registered the words, but only barely. He'd noted the absence of dementors on their approach to the school, so that answered that little mystery, but most of his focus was on the wand he could sense in Dumbledore's sleeve.

It radiated Dark, just like his invisibility cloak. It was the only wand in the Great Hall that did so. The phoenix feather wands were like a tiny spark of sunlight to his senses, well suited to explosive bursts of magic. The unicorn hair wands felt like a gentle stream of moonlight and were probably better off used for calmer magics. The dragon heartstring ones strangely did not give off a feeling of fire as he had expected, but of a more robust and enduring strength.

Dumbledore's wand though...it could only be the Elder Wand. Sirius had been disparaging of the tale of the brothers Peverell, and Harry had to agree that them meeting an anthropomorphic manifestation of Death and getting it to give them super powerful magical doodads for no easily explicable reason was unlikely, but he had been willing to give the story the benefit of the doubt in some measure. He may not be prepared to believe that Death was a person, but he was more than ready to believe that the three brothers had dabbled with Dark and learned how to use it to enchant certain items.

Now that he'd lain eyes on the wand, that belief was all but confirmed. He had to wonder where the Resurrection Stone was.

XXXXX

As soon as he was alone in his room, Harry cracked open the book Luna had given him and started reading.

 _Sex magic is something that has long been thought of as the domain of certain non-human magical beings. Given the recent thrust by the Veela Covenant to be recognized as equals under wizard law, I decided to research it myself and publish my findings so that we may better understand the Veela and their magics._

 _The decision of the European Ministries of Magic to classify all sex magic as a Dark Art the previous year and prohibit its use has put an end to this intention, but I will still finish this book if only for my own purposes._

 _The first mention of sex magic dates back to Ancient Sumeria and the sorceress that would later become most widely known as Lilith, the Queen of the Succubi._

 _Little is known of Lilith's origins, but it is known that she was born human. Her transformation into a Succubus has long been an unanswered mystery and will likely remain so. The other thing that is known of Lilith is her mastery of sex magic._

 _After her transformation, Lilith spent a millenium ensnaring the minds of wizards and witches alike and consuming their magic to sustain her life and power. For this reason, she eventually became revered as a fertility goddess and feared as a voracious demon._

 _This was a time long before wands and magic schools, meaning that trained magic users were few and far between and none of them very powerful. Lilith's Succubus transformation had among other things granted her immense control over fire and her ability to enthrall the minds of near any magical being made her unassailable by magical means. She was eventually slain by the hand of the muggle Hero-King Gilgamesh, who was immune to Lilith's enthrallment ability due to his lack of magic._

 _But Lilith had spawned a legion of Succubi daughters during her long life and they continued to prey on wizardkind, learning from the death of their mother and adopting a more subtle approach by targeting mostly those who were young, untrained, easily seduced or otherwise vulnerable._

 _Though popular muggle folklore portrays the Succubi as horned and bat winged demons, they were in fact indistinguishable from human women, save for their beauty, allure, intrinsic control of fire and the ability to partially transform into a hybrid bird creature at need. This made it easy for them to hide amongst human populations if they were careful and fed on the unwary or ignorant._

 _Their fortunes turned with the establishment of Hogwarts and similar magic schools later on. With fewer and fewer victims going untrained and unguarded, they were forced to go after more risky prey. The increased danger and lack of sustenance took a great toll on their numbers._

 _Unlike their mother, Lilith's daughters were unable to breed more Succubi and the last was eventually killed in 1637._

 _One among their number, the Succubus Velana, did however learn to spawn more children that were not Succubi. These came to be called Veela. They are possessed of similar powers as the Succubi, but much weaker. However, Veela also do not need to prey on magicals for survival and have been able able to endure despite the stigma of their origins._

 _After centuries of being hunted, Veela have now successfully won their acceptance in the majority of Europe, though their innate ability to use sex magic has been classified as a Dark Art in a rather transparent attempt to limit their influence._

Harry kept on reading long after he would have usually gone to bed, completely absorbed in the book. Much of the writing done by Luna's ancestor was theory and speculation, in no small part due to the fact that sex magic could not be done with a wand.

Which was exactly why Harry found it so fascinating in the first place, even beyond the subject matter.

It was well into the wee hours of the morning when something occured to him.

"How the hells did Luna know that I wouldn't give a shit about the Ministry prohibition, or that I would like the wandless aspect?" He wondered, baffled. " _Did_ she know, or was it just a coincidence?"

He pondered the vagaries of his friend for another half hour before metaphorically tossing his hands into the air in frustration and going to bed.

XXXXX

Harry sighed in his Charms class.

They were currently going over the Freezing spell, which Harry had known for some time. Even if he hadn't known it, he could have gotten the hang of it within minutes. Even watching the energy flow with his newly acquired magesight had gotten old already.

Flitwick was a good teacher, but Harry was bored out of his skull in his classes these days. Now that he could see magic as well as feel it, it seemed like he had an easier time mastering wandlessly what his classmates struggled to master with a wand.

XXXXX

Transfiguration was an interesting subject that was quickly becoming as dull as Charms.

While doing it wandlessly had always been a problem, doing it with a wand was simple enough, even if a dragon heartstring wand would have been better suited for the task.

Now that he could observe the process happenning, he was starting to figure out the nuances that would let him do it without a wand.

This had the unfortunate side-effect of making the class itself mostly superfluous. He spent almost the entire time ignoring McGonagall and doing his own thing.

XXXXX

"Potter, stop staring at your cauldron and start brewing!" Snape shouted.

Harry jerked in surprise, having gotten caught up in watching the magic of the ingredients interacting in his cauldron.

"Sorry, sir." He apologized and went to complete the potion.

Half an hour later, he was once again staring at his unfinished potion in fascination, wondering at the strange swirls and eddies that his stirring was making in it. He had no idea what any of it meant, but it was mesmerizing. All that 'stir clockwise six times and counter clockwise four times' crap was finally making some sense.

"POTTER!"

XXXXX

"Harry, please stay after class."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Looks like Lupin was finally done waffling. His indecisive shuffling had been getting beyond obvious in the lead up to the Christmas holidays.

When they were alone, Harry decided to ask the obvious question.

"Was there something you wanted, Professor?"

"Harry, the Headmaster tells me that you are aware of my relationship with your parents." Lupin stated after taking a bracingly deep breath.

"Yes."

Cue uncomfortable silence.

"I'm going to be late for Herbology." Not that he cared too much about that particular class, but standing here and waiting for the werewolf to get to the point was pretty tedious.

"I was wondering if you'd like to hear a few stories about them sometime." Lupin offered hopefully.

"Not really, I think I've got a general idea of the kind of people they were." It wasn't likely that he had anything new to add to what he'd already learned from Sirius, Charlus and Dorea.

"Harry, I'm sorry." Lupin suddenly said.

"What for?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"For never checking up on you, for not getting in touch when you started Hogwarts."

"Whatever your relationship with my parents, you don't and didn't owe me anything." Harry pointed out.

Remus winced at the even response. Perhaps he hadn't _owed_ James, Lily or Harry anything, but it was a poor friend that didn't check up on the orphaned son of his friends.

"I still should have checked up on you. I couldn't take you in because of a medical condition I have, but I should have checked up on you."

"I did well enough without you." Harry replied, not deigning to inquire about the oblique reference to lycanthropy.

Remus winced again. That was another way of saying that he'd do well enough without him from here on out as well. Harry was being decidedly lukewarm about getting to know him, and Remus couldn't blame him. He wasn't upset about the absence, but he wasn't eager to get to know him either. It would've been easier if Harry was angry at him. That at least would have been clear.

"I'm going to need a note for Professor Sprout." Harry prompted.

Remus wrote him a note and spent the next twenty minutes brooding over past regrets. He'd really dropped the quaffle with Harry and there wasn't much he could do about it now.

XXXXX

Aside from Potions, the only class that had actually become more interesting since his little Christmas adventure was Astronomy.

He still thought that the telescopes could do with replacing. The enchantments on them made them substantially more powerful than they should be, but that just meant that the newer models would be even better.

That being said, it was hard not to develop an appreciation for the night sky when he could practically feel the stars singing in his magic.

"Have you got it, Harry?" Professor Sinistra asked, nudging him over so that she could take a look herself.

"Almost." He replied and let her do it, taking a private enjoyment at the feel of her breasts brushing against his back when she leaned over him.

And that was the other reason why he liked Astronomy. He was terribly tempted to flirt with the beautiful dark skinned Professor sometimes. He didn't, because that could turn out very problematic, but he was seriously tempted.

How ironic. Ginny had asked him earlier in the year whether he liked older women and he'd said yes mostly to get her off his back, but now it was turning out to be true. Women thirty-plus years in age did more for him than girls in their teens.

Sinistra was thirty-three. Vector was forty. Both of them were hot. He couldn't show even a hint of his attraction without making things very, _very_ awkward. He didn't even know if they were in a relationship. Sometimes, life was just plain unfair.

Harry vowed to himself that he would try to sleep with at least one of them before he left Hogwarts.

XXXXX

 _Back at Potter Manor._

Sirius put down the glass of firewhiskey that he'd been about to drink and put a hand to his chest, wondering about the fierce burst of pride he'd just felt for his godson.

XXXXX

Harry returned to his room in a state of mild sexual frustration, which was pretty much normal for these late night Astronomy classes.

To the sight of Bryanna lounging on his bed, wearing what appeared to be a set of chocolate underwear, obviously enchanted to behave as it if were fabric.

"Hey lover."

Life might be unfair sometimes, but it could also be very good at other times. He'd been wanting to give some of the stuff he'd read in Luna's book a try for a while now, but he had needed a partner to do so. Luna's great-great grandmother had postulated a lot of theories, but only practice would determine whether they held any weight.

"I thought you could use a snack before bed."

Lots and lots of practice.

"I am feeling rather peckish." Harry admitted, quickly divesting himself of his clothes and firing a contraceptive charm at his midnight visitor.

Bryanna rolled her eyes t his paranoia. He still didn't trust the potion to do the job.

Harry paid her exasperation no mind as he climbed on the bed, zeroing in on her chocolate covered nipples.

Harry had no real idea how to implement the techniques described in the book, but he figured that he couldn't go far wrong if he started out by licking the chocolate off her breasts. He had magesight now, so enough experimentation was sure to yield results.

XXXXX

Bryanna let out a shuddering gasp as she rode Harry to her third orgasm, coincidentally triggering his fourth. She had no idea what he was doing, but his member felt even better in her than that vibration spell that Tiana had taught her at the end of last year.

Harry smirked to himself as Bryanna collapsed on top of him and nuzzled his neck, taking deep breaths all the while. Being able to see her magic reacting to his efforts was proving inordinately useful in figuring out how to please her. The book was written from the perspective of a woman, but it hadn't been too hard to adapt the knowledge.

"Mmm, what _have_ you been doing over the holidays?" Bryanna nearly purred out, feeling deliciously satisfied. Harry had definitely been improving.

"Oh, this and that." He replied mysteriously, rubbing circles on her lower back and seeing if he could magically stimulate the nerves that were supposed to be there.

"Well keep at it." She instructed, mashing her chest into his and already feeling a slow heat returning to her groin despite her recent orgasm. The fact that she still had him sheathed inside her and was leaking a slow trickle of sperm from her opening was only making it better.

"Yes ma'am." Harry chuckled, slowly refining his technique based on the feedback feel he was getting from her own magic.

They stayed that way for a while, content to take a short break and let the desire build before they jumped back into the sex.

"What do you think about having a meeting with all four of us girls soon?" Bryanna asked out of the blue, raising her head to look him in the eye.

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You mean..." He finished by pressing her down more firmly on his once again erect member.

Bryanna laughed lightly, realizing what she'd just implied. "You wish, Potter. No, that's not what I meant."

"Pity." He grinned. He could already imagine how jealous Sirius would be.

"Isabel drafted up a contract and we'd like you to take a look at it." She elaborated

"Sure." He agreed, starting to press kisses to her neck. "But I'm not interested in contracts right now."

"What are you interested then?" She asked huskily.

His hands went to cup her rear end and then he quickly spun them around so that he was the one on top.

"Oh, I could think of a thing or two." He said and kissed her, thrusting his hips forward in the same movement and delighting in her grunt of pleasure.

XXXXX

Harry wasn't sure if he liked Isabel and Jade.

They weren't rude or anything of the sort, but he was getting the distinct impression that they held a mild resentment for him because he was sleeping with their friends.

Harry could appreciate what the situation looked like from an outside perspective, but he was also quite sure that Bryanna and Tiana didn't find keeping him company at night to be distasteful. Tiana's unsubtle complaint earlier that he was neglecting her was a good indicator of that, as was Bryanna's shameless abuse of their shared House status to get more solo nights with him.

Either they were enjoying the situation as much as him or else they should abandon the clothes store idea and go to Hollywood.

Isabel came off as being rather starchy in addition to the slight social awkwardness that seemed normal for Ravenclaws. She'd presented him with the contract with the kind of stiff backed poise he'd expect from McGonagall. She obviously wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

The Gryffindor of the group was a somewhat different matter. She looked like she was just waiting for an excuse to get mad at him.

Harry couldn't be 100% sure, but he thought that they were both magically weaker than Bryanna and Tiana. He had no hard evidence to support this as his magesight and magic sensing only told him whether something was magical or not and didn't quantify it, but a gut feeling told him that Isabel and Jade were simply weaker people.

This same gut feeling had been giving him impressions of the people around him ever since his return to Hogwarts.

It told him that Luna was a generally flighty person who drifted through life without much concern, but there was something broken in her that paradoxically made her stronger than she seemed.

Ginny; an insecure little girl wrapped up in a mixture of sulky resentment and longing. That's what she felt like around him at any rate. He didn't know if there was more to her or not.

Malfoy; a front of arrogance shoring up a brittle core, not nearly as strong as he liked to portray himself as. He felt as if he would shatter if the illusion of superiority was taken from him.

Lupin; the inner wildness of his wolf wrapped in walls of fear and self-loathing. There was steel in him, but it seemed to be turned inward, as if he was most afraid of himself.

Snape; bitter and hateful with a core of guilt and self-loathing even stronger than Lupin. There was a fatalistic sense of determination too, as if he was dead set on finishing something and cared little for the aftermath.

These were all just vague impressions that only got marginally clearer the more time he spent around the people in question. It was also clearer with some people than others. Harry suspected that it was clearer with the more powerful wizards and witches.

Dumbledore was for example a pillar of calm over a deep well of grief and regret. There was an unshakable determination in him to accomplish something, at any cost. It made feel very dangerous.

By contrast, people like Isabel Morris and Jade Dawson were much less noticeable. Their souls did not shine as bright and would have faded into the background if there were more people present. As it was, Bryanna and Tiana nearly eclipsed them. His pretty bedwarmers were far more self-assured than their friends, more driven and just... _more_.

Harry couldn't quite help himself from labeling people like them as NPCs.

But he wasn't here to woolgather, he was here to inspect the contract.

"I'm sorry, but I can't sign this." He finally said, not needing to watch to know that all four girls had tensed.

"You said you would!" Jade snapped peevishly.

Tiana kicked her in the shin, muttering something about Gryffindors all the while.

"Is there something wrong with it?" She asked lightly.

"Yes." He responded bluntly. "Its way too simplistic."

"It covers the terms that we agreed on." Bryanna pointed out.

And hadn't _that_ been a bitch to explain to Isabel and Jade. They hadn't been too pleased at the fact that they would be minority owners in the future no matter what, as the original plan had been for equal shares. They were especially displeased that Harry had decided this based on the fact that they hadn't participated in the seduction plan.

Bryanna and Tiana were secretly pleased about reaping greater rewards for the gamble they took, not to mention that Harry had become very enjoyable night time company lately.

"Which was talked over a period of about five to ten minutes." Harry pointed out. "This contract works well enough if you aren't planning to turn a profit. The use of the Potter family name will protect your business from being shut down by a made up reason by some uppity pureblood, but it does nothing to protect you from anyone that might want to muscle in on it for themselves later on. At the very least I want a clause included that forbids any of you from selling your share to anyone except me."

"What business is it of yours who we would sell it to?" Jade demanded, earning herself another kick from Tiana.

"I suspect that the Potter family lost its vineyards and pottery business to the Parkinsons exactly because of something like this." Harry retorted. "Trusted managers given emergency authorization because the owner was unreachable or dead, then in comes Lord Parkinson making veiled threats of what might happen to those same managers and their families if they don't sell. I still need to investigate if that's what really happened, but after what I've learned from Bryanna and Tiana and my own research it seems like a likely scenario. The point being that if you _can't_ sell to anyone except me, then that means that you can't be threatened, bribed or blackmailed into it either."

Jade and Isabel paled at that, obviously having never considered it. Even Bryanna and Tiana were a bit perturbed.

"Wouldn't that make you a target then?" Isabel ventured.

"I'd be Lord Potter by then." Harry replied with a self-deprecating grin. "I checked the laws. I can legally kill people for stuff like that, among other things."

"And we can't." Tiana stated with a small sneer, getting another clue as to how exactly it was possible for the purebloods to keep a deathgrip on the economy. She'd missed that nugget of information in her earlier research.

"Nope, only Lords can issue honor duels." Harry confirmed wryly. Not that it was done much anymore as that was a rather extreme course of action, but there were non-violent alternatives. That was no doubt the main reason that the Noble Houses generally stayed out of each other's business.

"Alright, we definitely need to add that." Bryanna stated firmly.

"We probably need to add a lot of other things." He said. "I'm not a lawyer and there's probably a thousand other loopholes that I'm not seeing. I'd suggest that we meet over the summer and get a professional opinion on this, both muggle and magical."

"Why muggle?" Tiana asked curiously. "We're not really planning to have too much contact with the Muggle World. As soon as we get good enough at making our own clothes, we might cut contact with them entirely aside from buying some materials."

"Because my dear, while the muggle side of business might not have any of this Noble garbage involved – or perhaps because of it –, it is ten times as cutthroat. "

XXXXX

Harry grinned as he tossed a compact fireball at the target that the Room of Requirement provided for him.

Moving on to the next thing, he carefully began crafting a blasting curse between his hands, infusing the raw magical energy with his intent, all the while keeping it controlled. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled it at another target, demolishing that one as well.

He moved on to other spells after that. Stunners, disarming hexes, various transfigurations and more.

Now that he could clearly see and sense what was going on, wandless magic was no longer such an impenetrable mystery. It was slow, far too slow for combat purposes at this point, but also far more controlled than anything he could do with a wand and no less powerful.

Wands allowed a wizard to skip the difficult process of learning to manipulate magic with their minds alone. Some wands were better suited to certain things than others, but they could all be used for more or less everything. The interaction between core, wood and whatever else a wandcrafter did made sure of this.

Truly, whoever had figured out modern wands had been a genius with few equals, but in allowing magic users to skip the journey, so much had been lost.

For example, Modern wizards and witches used the Tempus charm to find out what time it was, but they never once considered what was involved with such a spell.

If Harry wanted to cast that particular spell wandlessly, he had to take into account the position of the Sun in the sky, the Earth's axial tilt, the form that he wanted the information to take and several other things. It took him half an hour to craft the spell and his results were very far from accurate.

With a wand, you just had to give it a little wave and something in the stick and the movements allowed you to bypass all the nuances and skip right ahead to the results. It was rather disturbing how sophisticated wands actually were, but he supposed that they would be after two thousand years of refinement.

The problem was that they had made wizardkind _lazy_. Obscenely so. Wands had sucked all the wonder and mystery out of magic by reducing it to a bunch of swishing and flicking. It was no wonder that modern day wizards were so unimpressive when they didn't really have to exert any kind of real thought to cast spells. Oh sure, you needed a certain level of focus to use magic with a wand(though even that was drastically reduced through the use of wand motions), but it was not even close to the mental dexterity required to weave a spell with only one's mind and will.

Harry moved on to the Patronus. It took him fifteen minutes to shape the spell and work his desire to protect into it, but he could change the size of his raven at will, increase its power to blinding luminance or reduce it to formless mist.

So what if it took an age to cast right now? With enough practice, the mental process would eventually become so familiar that he would be able to do it in an instant.

A quick check of the time told him that he was going to be late for his Charms class. Again.

With an aggravated sigh, Harry restarted the process of forming his Patronus. Charms class was a waste of time anyway.

XXXXX

"Has anyone noticed anything... _strange_ about Mr. Potter's behavior lately?" Minerva asked.

"He's sometimes taken to staring at his cauldron like a confounded troll ever since Christmas." Snape replied with dry derision.

"Severus!" She said sharply, but the Potions Master was undaunted by her warning.

"While I wouldn't phrase it in the way that Severus did, he _has_ been acting a bit erratic." Flitwick added. "His practical work is as good as ever, but his written work of late has been subpar to say the least. His homework has the feel of being rushed to completion without care for the quality."

"It is the same with me." The Transfiguration teacher said with her brow furrowed in thought.

"Me too." Remus added quietly.

"He actually turns in passable essays to me." Snape admitted grudgingly. The quality of Potter's potions had also been steadily increasing, but he wasn't going to admit that unless he absolutely had to.

"He is diligent enough with me as well, though obviously not interested." Sprout chimed in.

"Still, this is a worrying trend." Minerva continued. "And the sudden drop in his work quality isn't even the worst of it, he actually skipped one of my classes the other day and then refused to come to the detention I assigned him!"

"Err, Minerva." Flitwick said with an embarrassed cough. "He's skipped three of mine already."

"And you just let him do it?" She asked, mildly scandalized. No wonder he'd refused to come to detention if his Head of House was letting him get away with it.

"I talked to him about it and he admitted to being bored stiff in my classroom." The half-goblin Professor admitted. "He was easily able to demonstrate mastery of what we covered in those classes, to a degree that made it obvious that he'd known the spells for some time already. The curriculum is simply moving too slowly for him. I suspect that might also be the reason for his poorly done homework, he probably doesn't want to waste time on things that he already knows."

That had the deputy Headmistress looking thoughtful. She still didn't appreciate the boy outright ignoring the punishment she'd set for him, but this shed some light on his behavior.

"Surely you cannot be thinking of allowing the brat to skip a year or, Merlin forbid, allowing him free reign to decide which classes to attend?" Snape questioned, his opinion on the matter clear.

"Well there is hardly any point in forcing him to attend lessons that he has no use for." She retorted huffily.

"What do you think, Albus? You've been awfully quiet." Flitwick asked.

Dumbledore had indeed been quiet, listening to the conversation and turning things over in his mind.

"Professors Vector and Babbling tell me that they believe that Harry may be able to take his OWLs for Arithmancy and Ancient Runes over the summer if he continues to progress at the current pace." He said.

"That's quite impressive, I had no idea he was so far along." Flitwick said, ignoring the soft snort from Snape.

"Indeed, Septima and Bathsheda have nothing but praise for the boy." Dumbledore chuckled. "I think that they enjoy having a student take such interest in their subjects, which are often considered to be quite onerous."

"So what is to be done about Potter?" Minerva pressed.

"I will talk to him first and then determine what to do." Dumbledore decided.

XXXXX

Ever since his last ritual, Harry found that he could no longer sleep through sunrise or sunset. The change in his magic as the sun rose and set would always wake him.

Because of this, he often made his way to the top of the Astronomy Tower to watch as it happened. At the very least on the days when it wasn't cloudy.

These trips had also been an opportunity to spend some time just thinking, mostly about the fact that he had killed someone. He'd turned the event over in his mind countless times, but he simply could not bring himself to feel particularly bad about the killing itself. Wormtail had been a loathsome human being, a coward, traitor, murderer and who knows what else. His death would go unmourned by those who knew the truth and only the fact that it made things more difficult for Sirius made it regrettable.

Eventually he'd simply gotten fed up of attempting to dredge up some kind guilt or horror at the act. He just didn't feel it and apparently wouldn't no matter that society didn't approve of killers.

Remarkably, the cracks in his soul seemed to heal a bit once he stopped wrestling with himself over it.

"Back again, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as he walked up to stand beside the tall but young teenager.

He hadn't been able to divine the reason for Harry's quick growth, but he was by now certain that it wasn't natural. It didn't seem to be affecting him aside from that though, so he let it go despite his curiousity. The answer may yet come to him later.

"It's a nice morning." Harry replied noncommittally, having sensed the old wizard's approach. "It'll be a beautiful sunrise."

"You have been coming up here frequently of late." Dumbledore commented. "May I ask what prompted this sudden fascination with the Sun?"

Harry's lips twitched into a small smile. Anyone would be fascinated by the Sun if they knew what he knew and owed their continued existence to the ball of fiery gas.

"There is something special about seeing the world bathed in Light." He said instead, leaving out the fact that if forced to choose, he would have to say that he preferred the Dark and the stars.

"There is indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "but I had not thought that a boy your age would be able to appreciate it."

"You might be surprised by the things I can appreciate." Harry retorted, mildly irritated by the mention of his age. He'd once felt thirteen despite the size of his body, but he didn't anymore. Too much had happened for him to stay a child.

"Such as the lovely female company you keep?" Dumbledore chuckled.

"Hm, I guess it was too much to hope for that the rumor mill wouldn't catch wind of that." Harry grumbled.

"Alas, the Hogwarts rumor mill rarely fails to spread about uncomfortable secrets."

They lapsed into silence as dawn approached, an unspoken agreement passing between them to watch the sunrise in silence.

They had a surprise late arrival in the form of the Headmaster's phoenix, who arrived on Dumbledore's shoulder in a burst of flame just a minute before the event.

"Have you come to watch the sunrise as well, Fawkes?" Dumbledore asked with a smile, reaching up to ruffle the firebird's chest feathers.

Fawkes trilled in agreement, shooting a look towards Harry that he would swear was distrustful.

Harry felt a shiver of discomfort go through him, but ignored it. The phoenix was a creature of Light, so it was only natural for its song to be mildly unpleasant to him now that he was full of Dark.

The small discomfort passed as the Sun rose over the eastern mountains and pushed back the Dark. Harry was always slightly sad to see it happen. The Sun's overpowering presence was simply not as beautiful as the multitude of distant stars.

Fawkes trilled curiously, hopping from Dumbledore's shoulder over to Harry's and poking his beak in the younger wizard's temple. Right into the hidden _Sol_ rune in fact.

"Oi, cut that out." Harry protested, gently pushing the firebird's head away.

"He seems to like you." Dumbledore chuckled. "Or perhaps is confused by you."

Harry figured that the phoenix must have sensed it as the magic present in his soul shifted from Dark to Light. Being strongly aligned with Light, the phoenix was probably naturally sensitive to things like that in ways that wizards generally weren't.

Fawkes continued to make a pest of himself for the next few minutes, much to Dumbledore's amusement. He'd never seen his phoenix act like this around anyone before, but he took heart in it. Phoenixes were generally attracted to good people when they deigned to interact with them at all, so this boded well for the future.

"What do you want?" Harry finally asked in exasperation.

Fawkes trilled a beautiful song that resonated in his magic wonderfully, but was ultimately unhelpful in figuring out what the ostentatious feather duster wanted.

"What, do you want to praise the Sun in jolly cooperation?" Harry asked sarcastically, starting to get annoyed by Dumbledore's chortling.

Fawkes trilled happily.

"Was that a yes?" Harry asked with some incredulity.

Fawkes repeated the same trill.

"O...kay." Harry said dubiously, feeling entirely ridiculous but willing to try it if it would get the feathered menace to stop poking its beak into his head.

 _I can't believe that I'm doing this._ He thought to himself. _And with an audience no less._

Staunchly ignoring the embarrassed blush creeping up his face at what he was doing, Harry put his feet together, extended his arms as far as they would go and raised them into the air, as if to embrace the sunlight.

This robbed Fawkes of his shoulder perch of course, but the phoenix solved that problem by jumping on his head and raising his wings in a mimicry of Harry's arms, releasing a song full of nostalgic joy as he did so.

"Happy now?" Harry asked, unable to quite muster any irritation because of the sheer feeling that the phoenix had packed into the song.

Fawkes trilled in the manner that Harry was starting to associate with agreement and flamed away.

"What was that?" Dumbledore asked, intensely curious. "I have never seen Fawkes act so strangely before."

"I think...I think that he might have missed the days when the Sun was worshipped as a deity." Harry said slowly, mostly guessing but it felt right. Obviously, the rituals from those days weren't likely to bear much resemblance to something that he'd taken out of a video game, but the core purpose was the same and that was all that Fawkes seemed to have cared about.

"I suppose that is possible." Dumbledore mused. "The phoenix was revered as a representative of the Sun in many ancient cultures."

"Anyway, did you have some reason for coming up here this early in the morning on a weekend, sir?" Harry asked, wanting to move past this little situation before the old wizard stopped asking 'what?' and started on 'why?'.

"Ah yes, I had nearly forgotten in all the excitement. I was supposed to discuss your education."

"What about my education?" Harry asked warily.

"It has come to our, that being the Professors, attention that you are not feeling sufficiently challenged in some of your classes."

"I was always good at Charms and Transfiguration." Harry said with a nonchalant shrug.

"And the others?" Dumbledore prompted.

"We're mostly doing creatures in defense, so I do still learn new things there, but I would probably be quite far ahead if we were doing spells. I'm not really interested in Herbology, so I'm just slogging through that."

Dumbledore blinked in slight surprise. "How refreshingly honest of you to say so, Harry."

"I've recently discovered a newfound interest in Potions, but I'm no further ahead than anyone else." Nor was it likely to happen any time soon. The kind of experimenting he wanted to try with potions wasn't really something that he could do right now, as it would be very time consuming.

"It's much the same with Astronomy and you already know that I'm taking private lessons in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."

"Yes, I have heard from Professors Vector and Babbling that you are doing quite well in your electives. So well in fact that they feel you would be able to take your OWLs in those subjects during the summer if you continue to apply yourself as you have."

"Couldn't I take Charms, Transfiguration and maybe Defense too while I'm at it?" Harry asked. He'd already spoken to Vector and Babbling about the possibility.

"I am afraid that the Ministry does not offer early OWLs for core classes." Dumbledore answered.

"Why not?"

"As you may know, getting an OWL in one's core classes represents the minimum required education as decreed by the Ministry of Magic. They ceased offering early OWLs for those classes after an incident some three hundred years ago when a magical prodigy managed to get all of the required OWLs in the summer after her second year and decided to leave Hogwarts to advance her studies further on her own."

"Why was that a problem?"

"Normally it wouldn't be, but you must recall that this was a thirteen-year old girl. She was not the most cautious of people and caused a severe breach in the Statute of Secrecy after an altercation with a belligerent muggle teenager. Incidentally, that was also how the Reasonable Restriction on Underage Sorcery came about."

"Lovely." Harry said dryly. "Was that all?"

"Ah, no. Forgive an old man's digressing, but I actually came to talk to you in order to assess if it would prudent to offer you the opportunity to audit higher year Charms and Transfiguration classes at your own discretion."

Dumbledore would have once hesitated to offer the boy such a thing, but it was obvious by now that Harry was not going to be making friends in his own year. He was cordial with most of them, but not in any way close. Better to use the opportunity to build goodwill with the boy than to hold him back in the vain hope that he would somehow befriend people that he had not for the past two and a half years.

"I'm assuming that this is being offered since you mentioned it?"

"Indeed. If you choose to accept, then Professors Flitwick and McGonagall will periodically test you to make sure that you are keeping up with your studies, but you will otherwise be left alone to study the material on your own."

"I'd like that." Harry said.

"Very well then, I wish you the best of luck." Dumbledore nodded. "But one final bit of advice if I may. Do not get so consumed in your studies that you forget to have fun."

"Oh, I don't think you need to worry about that." Harry replied with a small smirk.

"I am glad to hear it." Dumbledore said with an amused smile of his own and left the Astronomy Tower.

Harry stared after the old wizard, wondering what exactly he was playing at. Either there was no actual plot or it was a seriously subtle one.

XXXXX

Harry winked at Bryanna and Tiana, taking vast amounts of amusement at their wide-eyed stares.

"Mr. Potter, I know that the Headmaster has given you leave to audit any Transfiguration class you wish, but do you not think that a seventh year class is a bit too advanced for you?" McGonagall asked disapprovingly. In truth, she was thinking that he had picked this particular class for the sole purpose of dropping in on his...girlfriends, or whatever they were.

"I'm just trying to get a feel for where exactly I am in terms of ability, Professor." Harry answered calmly.

"Very well." McGonagall conceded grudgingly. "But I do not want you attempting to cast the spells you will see here. Human transfiguration can be dangerous if done improperly and is not something that should be attempted lightly."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Professor." Harry semi-lied. He certainly wouldn't attempt it lightly, but he would eventually attempt it if he felt that he could do it.

McGonagall was somewhat reassured about his seriousness when he did not attempt to communicate with Ms. Torres or Ms. Day in any fashion, but instead kept his eyes fixed firmly on her and listened attentively. His focus was almost unnerving in its intensity in fact, but better that than to have him treating one of the most difficult branches of Transfiguration carelessly.

Harry spent the entire lesson studying how the energy flowed as the other students transfigured each other into various things. He could see why it was considered difficult, as the caster also had to take the magic of his target into account in addition to their own.

This would probably be useful when he and Sirius got started on the Animagus transformation.

XXXXX

The rest of the school year proceeded without any overt excitement from then on. Harry kept up a sporadic attendance of Charms and Transfiguration classes, in an order that nobody could really make sense of, but Flitwick and McGonagall couldn't deny that he was well ahead of where he should be so they couldn't protest much.

Lupin kept up a strange balance between wanting to approach him again and staying away, drowning in self-pity all the while. Harry was honestly not seeing much of the clever werewolf that Sirius sometimes talked about in his letters. Professor Lupin had more in common with an old man waiting to die. It might have helped him to know that Sirius was not a traitor, but blurting out that kind of dangerous secret to make someone feel better was just stupid.

Snape continued to be as unpleasant as possible because of what he saw as the Potter spawn getting special treatment, but his odium had become something of an unremarkable backdrop to Potions by now and failed to really get much of a reaction out of Harry. He took points constantly, he made rants occasionally and he glared ceaselessly, but Harry simply didn't care enough about Snape's personal opinion of him to take it to heart. He had what he wanted and the Potion Master's hissy fits meant exactly bugger-all.

Unbeknownst to Harry, this passive disregard and failure to rise up to the provocation was wearing Snape out. He couldn't really escalate any further in a school setting and there was only so long that you could rail at someone who didn't care before you ran out of steam.

On the more friendly teacher front, Vector and Babbling had decided to double the number of lessons per week they had with him, apparently determined to have him pass the Arithmancy and Ancient Runes OWLs over the summer with a solid O.

Harry could only be thankful that Bryanna and Tiana seemed more than happy to help him out with the tension that the increased amount of time spent with the beautiful Arithmancy teacher was causing him, even if it did nothing for the numerous detention fantasies he was accumulating.

XXXXX

 _Last weekend before the end of the school year._

"You know, I think I'm actually going to miss these little get-togethers of ours." Tiana said musingly, stretching out in the decadently luxurious bathtub that the Room of Requirement had provided.

"Not as much as me." Harry said mournfully from beside her. "Who's going to keep me company at night when you two graduate?"

"I'm sure you'll find some other girl to seduce." Bryanna snorted from his other side. "Maybe you can even invite Rosmerta or Professor Vector into your bed."

"I should never have told you that I have a thing for older women." Harry sighed with a smile.

"I'm still offended by that by the way." Tiana chimed in teasingly. "You have two sexy teens in bed with you and you fantasize about old women."

"They're not old, just old _er_." Harry protested. "And do you want me to kiss it and make it better again?"

"Merlin's balls, no." She groaned. "I think my clitoris might revolt if you went anywhere near it again."

Harry said nothing in response, merely smirked with supreme smugness. Nothing like bringing a girl to several screaming orgasms with magically enhanced cunnilingus to boost one's ego. That book of Luna's might be just about the most awesome gift he'd ever received.

"Would you look at that smug look on his face?" Bryanna commented. "He learns how to properly lick pussy and suddenly he thinks he's the king of the world."

Harry reached over and gave her nipple a pinch, enjoying her squeak.

"So, when are we going to meet up during the summer?" Tiana asked a few minutes later.

"I'll contact you when I know." Harry replied. "I'm going to have a lot to do during the summer and setting up meetings with a couple of lawyers is the least of it."

"What else will you be doing?" Bryanna asked curiously.

"I've got to take my Arithmancy and Ancient Runes OWLs at the Ministry, track down the old managers of my family's business and talk to them about why exactly that business now belongs to the Parkinsons and a few other things."

Things like getting Sirius to teach him how to become an Animagus and getting him acquitted.

"What about yout muggle girlfriend?" Bryanna teased. He'd told them about Zoe one day when they asked who'd popped his cherry, because it obviously hadn't been them.

"She's not my girlfriend, she's a friend with benefits." Harry said with dignity. "A lot like you two actually."

"You really should get a muggle girlfriend." Tiana suggested with a smirk. "I can already see the outraged headlines in the _Prophet,_ 'Boy-Who-Lived dates a muggle! How far has our saviour fallen?'."

"Amusing as that would be, I'm not going to get a muggle girlfriend just to spite Wizarding Britain's elite." Harry snorted. "Besides, I doubt they'd be that obvious about their prejudice. The headline would probably be something like 'Boy-Who-Lived dates a muggle! Are Britain's witches not good enough for him?'."

"They just need to set you up with a nice middle aged witch and that'll be that." Bryanna teased.

Harry groaned. He _really_ shouldn't have told them about that.

"How about Molly Weasley?" The Ravenclaw girl continued.

"Don't even joke about that!" Harry retorted sharply, shuddering theatrically. "There's a very big difference between a sexy mature woman and an overbearing broodmother."

He knew that he was probably being overly harsh, especially as he'd personally met the woman for a grand total of thirty seconds, but he'd learned enough from second hand sources to steer well clear of her. Ginny's commentary and the occasional howler she sent had painted a picture of a woman who meant well, but who was also very opinionated and had not the slightest clue when to ease up. That wasn't even mentionning that she wasn't the slightest bit attractive as far as Harry was concerned.

"Well enough about Harry's fetishes." Tiana declared, ignoring his exasperated eyeroll. "Since this is our last night together, I've prepared a little something."

The other two looked at her curiously as she grabbed her wand and gave it a wave, causing three goblets and a bottle of wine to float towards them.

"Goblets for drinking wine? Really?" Harry questioned wryly as she poured him some. "This makes me feel more like Conan the Barbarian than a wizard."

"Who?" The girls asked blankly.

"Right, I forgot that you wizard-raised savages don't know anything about the classics." Harry sighed.

"At least we aren't some muggle-raised bumpkin who thinks that goblets aren't appropriate for drinking wine." Tiana retorted.

"What are we drinking to?" Bryanna asked before the conversation could devolve into a string of playful insults on the differences between a muggle or magical upbringing.

"To profitable partnerships." Tiana suggested, raising her goblet.

"To future successes." Bryanna added, bumping her own goblet against her friend's.

"And fringe benefits." Harry finished with a grin, mirroring their move.

"Cheeky little cunt." Bryanna smirked.

"That is not language fit for a Lady." Harry told her snobbily.

"Ah, but as a mere commoner, I can be as vulgar as I please. If that bothers my Lord, then he should have let himself be duped into a marriage." She retorted coquettishly, batting her eyelashes in an overdone manner.

"I can ruin my life with a serious relationship anytime, but I'm only going to be young once." He countered, grinning. He had been somewhat upset about their plan when he'd first heard of it, but they'd become friends since then and he couldn't fault their ambition or even their reasoning. Prospects for them really weren't great in Britain.

"I'll drink to that." The girls said in unison. They hadn't been enthused about the idea of marriage before hitting twenty either, seeing it only as a means to an end, so this turn of events was actually preferrable to them.

The three of them brought the goblets to their lips and took a large gulp of the wine.

"You know, judging by how fond people are of alcohol, I expected it to taste better." Harry commented, smacking his lips with a distasteful grimace.

"Maybe it's a bad vintage?" Tiana asked weakly, having not been too fond of the flavor either. "I don't know a thing about wine, so I just picked one at random."

"It's not that bad." Bryanna commented, taking another sip.

Harry exchanged a look with Tiana and shrugged. They didn't see what was so 'not bad' about it, but to each their own.

XXXXX

Harry and Luna had a compartment to themselves on the train ride back to King's Cross. Luna had tried to invite Ginny along, but the redhead wasn't as insensitive to social awkwardness as the blonde, so she had declined and gone to sit with her brothers.

Harry was thankful for that. He didn't hate Ginny, but he'd rather not be in prolonged close contact with her anymore. That constant gloom she gave off about the way he lived his life was more than a little off putting.

So the two of them had spent their time discussing what they would be doing over the summer, though Harry had to lie about quite a bit of it.

Luna had been happy to tell him all about the trip to Germany's Black Forest that she had planned with her father. Apparently there was a magical section of it that still remained hidden from muggles to this day. She'd even invited him to come along, but he had had to decline despite his interest in seeing the place. He simply had too much going on this summer to accept.

Of course, the experience wouldn't be quite complete without Draco Malfoy stopping by to visit.

"I'm surprised you don't have those two halfblood whores in here with you, Potter." The poncy Slytherin sneered.

Harry scowled at the interloper, irritated by the insult to Bryanna and Tiana more than anything else. "Get lost, Malfoy."

"What's wrong Potter? Don't like hearing what they are?" Malfoy continued, sneer firmly in place. His omnipresent goons chuckled sycophantically.

It was at this point that Harry noticed that the little shit was using the doorframe for support since the train was currently passing a fairly bumpy area of the tracks.

Carefully hiding a smirk, Harry grabbed hold of the door with his magic and slammed it closed over Malfoy's fingers.

The Slytherin howled in pain and collapsed to the ground, clutching at his smashed-but-luckily-not-broken fingers.

"You alright there, Malfoy?" Harry asked, no longer bothering to hide his amusement. "That looked like it hurt."

"When my father hears about this..." Draco tried to threaten, but it come out as more of a pained sob.

"He'll do what? Have the door executed?" Harry asked sarcastically, making a reference to the hippogriff that had been killed by the Ministry at the end of the school year on Malfoy senior's initiative. Even Harry had noticed how mopey Hagrid had been after that and he didn't even have any real contact with the half-giant.

"I know you did this, Potter!" Draco screeched.

"Sure I did, Malfoy." Harry replied with a practiced deadpan. "Just like I made you trip into that suit of armor a few weeks ago, right? And without a wand in both cases too."

To be fair, that was exactly what he'd done.

Angry, frustrated and in a great deal of pain, Malfoy sulked off. He was sure that Potter was somehow the cause of all these weird accidents that kept happening to him, but the fact that the scarheaded Ravenclaw never had his wand in hand when it happened left him stumped as to how.

The whole thing was made worse by the fact that nobody believed him when he tried to explain that he sometimes felt a spell push him off balance. They just assumed that he was clumsy and trying to cover it up.

He had the same reputation for clumsyness as Longbottom now. _Longbottom_!

"That wasn't very nice of you, Harry." Luna commented without recrimination.

"It's not my fault that the door slid closed over his fingers." Harry defended.

"Really?" Luna asked in honest puzzlement, lifting up her hamster pet to her face. "But Boo seems so certain that it was."

"Does he now?" Harry murmured, looking at the hamster suspiciously and wondering for just a moment if he hadn't somehow stumbled across something other than a normal rodent. Or maybe extended magical exposure had altered it. "What else does he say?"

"Not much actually, but he is excited to go hunting for snorkacks."

Ah, nevermind. All was well as long as Luna was going on about snorkacks.

XXXXX

Deep in the forests of Albania, the disembodied spirit of a much feared and now thought dead Dark Lord was reduced to possessing animals, mostly snakes out of personal preference.

Had Peter Pettigrew managed to escape from his former friend and the son of those he'd betrayed, he would have eventually followed the clues he was able to glean from the rats with whom he shared a form, seeking protection from the enemies he'd made. Had this happened, Voldemort would have had a servant to help him make a play for a return to physical form.

Alas for the broken Dark Lord, Pettigrew was dead and his other followers had deserted him, even those few who had an inkling that he was not quite dead, finding that they liked it better when they didn't have to grovel before the massively powerful wizard. Political games and economic ploys might be slower and less satisfying than an eradication of mudbloods by force, but it was much safer.

Because of this notable lack of servant, the mildly brain damaged Bertha Jorkins was able to make her way out of Albania without issue and Voldemort never learned that one of his most faithful, Barty Crouch Jr., was kept imprisoned by his father's Imperious instead of in Azkaban.

Instead of that, he continued to stew in his hatred and plot ways that he might use to return.


	10. Chapter 10

**Much thanks to Joe Lawyer for his awesome beta-ing skillz.**

XXXXX

As he made his way up to the door of his foster parents' home, Harry wondered what their reaction to his current appearance was going to be.

At an even six feet now, he was impossibly tall for a not-quite-fourteen-year old. Well, impossible unless you were Dutch, which he wasn't. His growth had slowed down recently, so he figured that he might manage a few more inches at best before it stopped. He was still a bit on the gangly side of teenagerhood, but was hopeful that he would start filling out soon.

His black hair rested between his shoulder blades in a neat ponytail, even the Potter wildness defeated by gravity. Only the ends still tried to stick every which way, but for the most part ceded defeat with only mild use of cosmetic spellwork to keep it straight

Harry took a deep breath as he pushed open the door. He didn't keep too many things here anymore, having gradually moved them over to Potter Manor, so it didn't take him long to 'unpack' so to speak. After that was done, he made his way to the living room, where he figured that Robert and Katherine were currently watching the evening news. He mostly intended to just say hello and goodbye before he went back to the manor, and even that only because they expected to see him once the school year was over.

"Hey." He greeted as he entered the room.

"Welcome back." Robert said in a rather perfunctionary, even cold, manner. Harry figured that his constant absences must have started to become terribly inconvenient for them. The disapproval made his heart bleed. Not.

Katherine didn't say anything, merely walking up to him and looking him over intently. "If I didn't know better I'd say that you were at least seventeen if not older." She sounded a bit surprised.

That was about the physical age that Harry figured himself to be as well. "I must be an early bloomer." He said with a shrug.

"Is that actual stubble on your face? You're _shaving_ already?" Katherine continued, now sounding quite a bit more incredulous. Height was one thing, but a beard was something else entirely.

Harry's lips twitched in amusement. He did indeed develop a patchy beard if he didn't shave often. He'd deliberately let himself grow some stubble to see how his foster parents would react.

"Yes, I am." He said simply. "Anyway, I just came to say 'hi' before going back. I've got a lot to do over the summer, so I'm not going to be around much, if at all."

"You'll need to be here on the seventh, we're meeting with the Burtons then." Katherine said.

"I can't, I have too much to do." Harry repeated, keeping the grimace he wanted to make off his face. The Burtons were as bad as his own foster parents from what he remembered.

"You can take a day off." Robert declared, as if that was the last word on the matter. "People have been asking questions about where you are and you need to make a few appearances."

"Their daughter has turned out quite well. I'm sure you'll like her." Katherine added, thinking to appeal to his hormones.

In this she failed spectacularly. Elizabeth Burton had indeed been a very pretty girl even a few years back and would by now probably be a very beautiful teen, but she was utterly vapid. Her personality would be more interesting if she was unconscious and Harry's libido was not nearly deprived enough of female companionship to willingly endure that kind of torture.

"My magical studies are more important." He said, simultaneously weaving a compulsion spell around Katherine. He firmly ignored the insidious thought of what else he could compel her to do. It wasn't the first time that he'd had thoughts of abusing his power like this.

"I suppose..." Katherine conceded reluctantly, the compulsion making her accept his words as truth.

"Now wait just a minute!" Robert protested at seeing his wife give in. "You have responsibilities to this family and you've been ignoring them for long enough already."

"You can handle the Burtons just fine without me." Harry told him, weaving another compulsion around the man. "The long term investment of my magic is much more important than having me go with you."

Robert subsided at that, his mind full of the possibilities that magic would open. Possibilities that Harry had neglected to inform him were illegal and which he would not carry out even if they weren't.

It was easy to leave after that, but something niggled at his mind despite the ease with which he had bent the wills of his foster parents and escaped their blasted socializing. Something had been wrong in that encounter and he wasn't talking about the questionable legality of it.

He couldn't pinpoint the feeling, but something had simply not felt right.

XXXXX

The mystery feeling didn't remain a mystery for very long, as it cleared up almost as soon as he made it back to the manor.

The situation had felt wrong because the gut feeling about people that he'd gotten used to had been absent. With no magic in them, Robert and Katherine were blank spots to this new sense he seemed to have developed. It had been a background sensation for so long that he'd only properly noticed it once it had vanished and returned.

It had been uncomfortable not to have that extra sense aorund people.

"Harry, are you listening to me?" Sirius asked in exasperation.

"I was thinking." Harry replied, mildly irritated at having his train of thought interrupted.

"How about you rethink this plan of yours then?" The dog Animagus prompted.

"It's a good plan." Harry insisted.

Perhaps more complicated than he would have liked but solid all the same. The Ministry could not be trusted to do the right thing, so a situation had to be created where too many people knew the truth for things to be swept under the rug.

That meant the media and that meant reporters. Harry disliked reporters on general principle and disliked magical reporters as a matter of caution. The Wizarding World seemed to have much looser laws in regards to slander than its muggle counterpart. The _Daily Prophet_ had come across as valuing sensationalism and shock value over facts more than once.

But in this case that could be used. Nothing pleased the vultures more than a shocking and sensational truth.

"What if it fails?" Sirius asked.

That was a legitimate worry. It was possible that the reporter would squeal to the Ministry instead of printing the story, but Harry considered it a low probability. Reporters thrived on controversy like fungus thrived on moisture. "In that case we'll have to improvise."

"I still think we should bring Dumbledore in on this. He's got contacts everywhere. He could get this handled without the risk."

"No." Harry scowled. "I don't trust the old man. He was Chief Warlock back when you were first imprisoned, but he didn't even bother to visit you once, much less provide you with a trial. I'm not going to rely on him unless I absolutely have to."

Nothing good ever came of owing favors to powerful people, wizards least of all.

Sirius frowned but eventually gave a grudging nod. Yes, it was possible that Dumbledore had been as duped by the deception as anyone, but it was hard not to feel resentful for twelve years spent in Azkaban.

"I guess I was just hoping to keep you from doing all the work." He finally admitted with a resigned sigh. "You're way too young to be pulling my arse out of the fire like this."

"I'm not looking forward to it either, but we don't have a lot of options with Pettigrew being dead." Harry replied.

They had gone over a lot of possible plans, but using the media to cause a big scene and drag everything into the open was by far the most reliable. They could have directly contacted Amelia Bones, the current head of the DMLE, but Sirius had only her good reputation from over a decade ago to go on rather than any personal – or even recent – knowledge, so it was deemed too risky. They could have gone to Dumbledore, but Harry refused to consider it as anything besides a last resort. They could have even tried to contact one of the other European Ministries of Magic and asked for asylum for Sirius, but they couldn't predict how those Ministries would react or how corrupt they were.

Even Charlus and Dorea had admitted that using the papers as a platform to spread the truth before the Ministry could act and causing a public outcry had the most predictable consequences. Not necessarily the best, but the most predictable.

The Ministry would panic and demand that Harry and Sirius present themselves, but they would have to follow procedure unless they wanted a riot on their hands.

"Well, at least it'll make a good prank." Sirius replied, now smirking.

"I guess you could say that." Harry smirked back. "But enough about that, I think it's time we start getting serious about the Animagus transformation."

"I'm always Sirius." Sirius stated with a stone face.

"Yeah, and no matter how much I shave, I'm always Harry." Harry riposted.

Sirius let out a barking laugh and grinned widely at his godson.

"Very well then, my brother in puns, let's make you an Animagus."

XXXXX

Andy Smudgley was a reporter for the _Daily Prophet_ , one of the less prominent ones. He didn't have Rita Skeeter's penchant for viciousness or her uncanny ability to ferret out sensitive information, so he mostly had to content himself with writing fairly mediocre articles.

Upon receiving a letter from the Boy-Who-Lived, offering him the chance for an interview, he had jumped at the chance without hesitation.

So here he was, standing outside the Leaky Cauldron and waiting for Harry Potter to arrive.

He wasn't particularly comfortable in the Muggle World, being a wizard-raised halfblood. The odd looks and amused smirks he was getting from the passing muggles were certainly something that he didn't appreciate.

"Mr. Smudgley?" A voice questioned, making the reporter look at who had adressed him.

A tall teenager, with very distinctive green eyes and a lightning bolt scar.

"Harry Potter?" Andy near-gasped, looking slightly up at the boy who had vanquished Voldemort. The legend of the Boy-Who-Lived was such that he didn't even question why a not-quite thirteen-year old boy was taller than him. It seemed only right for heroes to be tall.

"I thought I asked you not to draw attention to yourself?" Harry sighed, already embarrassed about having to stand near such an outlandishly dressed individual.

The reporter was wearing white, knee high socks and lime green crocs, a pair of tight beige shorts with suspenders and a blue V-neck T-shirt that was almost definitely made with women in mind. Completing the mismatched ensamble was one of the old-style cameras that wizards used and a rather girly looking purse that presumably held his wand.

He looked like a vaguely crossdressing hipster that had just come from Oktoberfest or something equally baffling, but at least he wasn't wearing a skirt.

"Isn't this how muggles dress?" Andy asked nervously, afraid that his lack of knowledge on muggle fashion would cost him the story.

"The weird ones perhaps," Harry answered with a smirk. "but nevermind that now, we should go."

Andy nodded eagerly. He was determined to make the most of this opportunity and not dissapoint the Boy-Who-Lived, who must have been impressed by one or more of his articles to have chosen him over the other reporters at the _Daily Prophet_.

Contrary to his thinking, he had not been chosen for any kind of ability. Sirius had merely liked the fact that he'd made a pun with his name when reporting on the Animagus' Azkaban breakout.

"Where are we going?" The reporter asked after a few minutes of walking through the city.

"Somewhere a bit more private." Was the only answer that Harry would give him in regards to that.

They spent the next ten minutes walking in silence, one of them wondering where they were going and the other wondering how wizards could possibly screw up getting dressed as an inconspicuous muggle when they had so many examples. It was like they got all of their source material from crazy events like the previously mentioned Oktoberfest, or maybe those fashion shows with the really screwed up 'clothes'.

"Alright, here we are." Harry said once they arrived.

"But...there's nothing here." Smudgley pointed out uncertainly, looking around the out of the way alley they had entered.

"Don't worry about that, this isn't our final destination, just a stopgap. Now, I'm going to need you to stay calm and not panic."

"Alright." Smudgley agreed easily enough.

"Teeny, transport us pelase."

"Yes, Harry Potter sir!" The little house elf said enthusiastically as she appeared and apparated them into a completely featureless room in Potter Manor. It was best not to let people know that he was back in residence.

Despite agreeing not to panic, Andy froze in panic at the sight of Sirius Black lounging on a chair.

But then a hand was laid on his shoulder and a feeling of calm spread through him.

"You've got nothing to be worried about, Sirius is only here to give you an interview." Harry said soothingly.

Once Andy got past the fear of being murdered, he quickly realized the journalistic value of this opportunity.

XXXXX

"Harry?"

"Yes, Luna?"

"You appear to have Sirius Black squatting in your home."

"Well spotted." Unlike the _Daily Prophet_ reporter, Luna could be trusted not to reveal that Potter Manor was back in use, or that it contained Sirius Black.

"Hey, I am not squatting!"

"Squatting aside, Luna, would you like to interview Sirius for the _Quibbler_?"

"Not. Squatting."

"It would delay our trip to Germany by a few days, but I think daddy will understand. So Mr. Black, did you see any crumple-horned snorkacks during your stay in Azkaban?"

"Crumple what now?"

"Answer the question Mr. Black, or I will hold you in contempt."

"I don't think that reporters can hold people in contempt, Luna."

"Don't be silly, Harry, anyone can hold anyone in contempt. People do it to me all the time, and you do it to others all the time."

"I...can't refute that statement."

"Not to break up your moment of philosophy, but could we get to the part where I tell my harrowing story of betrayal and false imprisonment?"

"False imprisonment? Are you saying that you weren't in Azkaban these past twelve years, Mr. Black?"

"What? Of course I was in Azkaban!"

"Then how was your imprisonment false?"

Sirius worked his jaw as he tried to figure out the little blonde girl's logic, noticing that his godson was looking terribly amused by the whole thing.

"Stop smirking, Harry."

XXXXX

"That friend of yours is really something else." Sirius said after Luna had left.

"That she is." Harry agreed.

"What the hell is a crumple-horned snorkack anyway?"

"No idea, but I admire Luna's determination to find one."

XXXXX

Albus Dumbledore didn't like summers all that much. Oh, the weather was nice enough, but Hogwarts just felt so empty with the students and even several of the teachers gone. He couldn't even say that he had less paperwork to deal with since he had two other jobs, and DADA was an eternal thorn in his side.

At least he'd learned to expect his DADA teachers to become somehow unable to continue teaching for more than a year and had a replacement all lined up. He wasn't angry at Severus for outing Remus as a werewolf. He knew that there was bad blood between them, though he had hoped that the Potions Master would learn to leave it in the past.

He could only hope that Alastor would restrain himself a bit in the classroom and remember that the students were not Auror trainees. Still, having him around for the Tri-Wizard Tournament would be invaluable from a security standpoint.

The Tri-Wizard Tournament. How Ludo Bagman had come upon the idea of reviving that old competition and then convincing the necessary people to get it done, Dumbledore could not fathom. He had to admit that he liked the thought of fostering international cooperation, particularly in light of the fact that he knew that Voldemort would almost certainly rise again someday, but he had been unwilling to agree to resurrect the tournament in its original form. He would not condone entering children into a deadly competition, no matter how skilled with magic they might be.

That at least had been agreed upon without issue by all involved. If only the rest of it were so simple. It was still being argued as to which school would have the honor of hosting the event. Karkaroff and Madam Maxime naturally wanted it to be at their schools, just as Dumbledore wanted it to be at Hogwarts. This was not merely a matter of prestige, but also of practicality. It would be quite inconvenient to be away from his school for that long after all.

Fortunately, tradition favored Hogwarts, as Durmstrang had hosted it the last time and Beauxbatons the time before that. Wizards and witches do like their traditions, and even the centuries that had passed since the last tournament weren't likely to sway people away from that.

These were the thoughts of Albus Dumbledore as he reached for his morning paper, idly wondering if Ms. Skeeter had printed any more of her vitriol today. Such a shame that a witch of her potential would spend her time spreading malicious rumors or gossip, but then, she had been like that for a long time now. Slytherin had not been kind to her during her school years, Dumbledore suspected.

 ** _It's a Sirius shock! Azkaban escapee Sirius Black tells his side of the story!_**

Safely alone in his quarters, Albus Dumbledore gaped unbecomingly at the headline on his copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

 _Yesterday, this reporter received an owl from Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, with an offer for an interview. We met outside the Leaky Cauldron and walked some distance away to a secluded alley, where Mr. Potter called for a house elf to transport us to an undisclosed location._

 _Imagine my shock when I found myself face to face with Sirius Black himself!_

 _But the supposed mass murderer was not at all hostile. He was in fact rather friendly, though the shadow of Azkaban was still visible on his face._

 _Mr. Potter explained to me that the interview he had promised was not to be with him, but with Black._

The article then went on to reveal the tale of the switch between Secret Keepers, Pettigrew's betrayal, Sirius' wrongful imprisonment and subsequent escape, Harry meeting his godfather and offering him shelter from the Aurors and dementors and finally ending with the interview that he was now reading.

Dumbledore noted that it said nothing about the means by which Sirius had escaped, nor did it offer up any real details on the fate of Peter Pettigrew.

 _Mr. Potter is well aware that the DMLE will wish to speak to him and intends to present himself this very afternoon._

That particular line revealed the gist of Harry and Sirius' plan. The Ministry could not, after all, be seen to act rashly now that the truth was revealed to the masses, especially with Harry involved as he was. His status as the Boy-Who-Lived and Heir to the Potter family would shield him from the usual legal repercussions of harboring a wanted criminal.

Clever though this plan was, Dumbledore couldn't help but wish that they had come to him for help. He could have made things so much smoother. Things would now have to play out in the way that Harry and Sirius had set, but he still intended to be there.

He had clearly failed Sirius grievously once already by not taking the time to properly investigate the situation, so he would offer what help he could now. Not only was it a matter of doing the right thing, but also of keeping contact with Harry once Sirius took over his guardianship.

XXXXX

In the office of the Minister of Magic, there was much less certainty.

"This is a disaster!" Cornelius Fudge moaned. "What am I going to do, Lucius?"

Lucius Malfoy considered the situation carefully. Fudge was a simple creature to manipulate, but even a simpleton like him had limits to how far he could be bent with either words or 'donations'. Not many limits, but getting him to commit political suicide was one of them.

The exoneration of Sirius Black would reflect poorly on Fudge even if it had been Barty Crouch and the previous Minister, Bagnold, who had imprisoned him. The Minister was the face of the Ministry and it would be the Ministry as a whole who would end up with eggs on their face over this debacle. The statements he had made about hunting the fugitive down would not help either.

But that did not mean that simply doing away with Sirius Black would be possible, not after the truth was plastered all over the front page of the _Daily Prophet._ Too many questions would be asked if he mysteriously disappeared _._

Lucius himself had long suspected that Black was innocent. As part of Voldemort's inner circle, he was aware of the identities of most every one of the Dark Lord's followers. That such a high profile member would slip past his notice was unlikely. Possible, but unlikely.

He had congratulated himself heartily over the windfall that the Malfoy family had gotten under his leadership. With Bellatrix imprisoned and barren(courtesy of a special, untraceable poison Lucius himself had added to her evening drink one day), Andromeda disowned, Regulus killed on some unspecified task for the Dark Lord and Sirius rotting in Azkaban, his own son was next in line to inherit the Black family and thus absorb it into the Malfoy line since his wife, Narcissa, was a Black by birth.

But now that was all in danger of being undone. Sirius was Heir to the House and had never been properly banished from the family despite his rebellion against everything that House Black stood for. If he was declared innocent, then Lucius could wave his dreams of absorbing House Black into Malfoy goodbye.

Unless of course another bout of misfortune happened to befall Sirius Black. But for that, information was required.

"Regardless of the...distressing nature of this article, Potter and Black have offered little proof of their words." He finally said. "Potter says that he will present himself to the DMLE this afternoon and I think that it would proper for the Minister of Magic to be present at such an important occasion, in order to judge for himself the veracity of these claims."

"Yes, yes of course. Black could be manipulating the boy after all, maybe even keeping him under the Imperious!" Fudge said, getting some of his composure back. "You'll be there too, won't you, Lucious?"

"If you wish for my advice, then who am I to refuse?" Lucius said, keeping the irony out of his voice with the ease of long experience. Weaning Fudge away from his reliance on Dumbledore and making him rely on Malfoy gold and advice instead had been almost too easy.

XXXXX

Harry made his way towards the visitors entrance of the Ministry of Magic, once again contemplating the dilapidated nature of this part of the city. He'd come here a few days ago to make sure that he could find it and had now apparated himself to a nearby alley.

He could sense several powerful aversion wards affecting the area, no doubt aimed at those without magic. It probably made this part of London unpalatable for muggles, leaving it to slowly decay.

He had to wonder if there was some kind of symbolism in having the magical government housed underground, covered by the filth of the surrounding muggles. Or perhaps it was the other way around, the presence of wizarding politics fouling the area.

A line of thought that was most unflattering to wizardkind either way.

Shaking the thought off, he stepped into the red phone booth that served as the entrance to the Ministry, amused at how completely it failed to be inconspicuous. If not for the aversion wards, this pristine looking but long since obsolete phone booth would probably attract a great deal of unwanted attention. In fact, that might be the reason for the wards in the first place.

Quickly entering 62442 to spell out 'magic', he waited for the operator that Charlus had told him would speak up.

" _Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business_." A female voice droned. It reminded Harry of Binns, though marginally less monotone.

"Harry Potter, here to meet with Director Bones." He didn't know if he would actually be meeting with Amelia Bones herself, but it seemed like a fair assumption.

" _Thank you. Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes._ " The instruction was accompanied by a rattling as the aformentioned badge was deposited into a receptacle.

It helpfully proclaimed ' _Harry Potter, meeting with Director Bones'_.

Harry did as the cool female voice had suggested and pinned the badge to his robes, a rather more ostentatious affair than he would've liked. He had been intending to show up dressed in quality, but eminently muggle clothing. Charlus and Dorea had insisted that he take one of the more formal robes that were hanging around in the manor however, arguing that snubbing the traditional wizard's apparel would not work in his favor. He understood their arguments and it had been part of the coaching they'd given him on how to comport himself around influential people, however much it grated on him due to the memory of similar lessons with Robert and Katherine.

Thus, robes. At least he'd managed to find a set that was a subdued black.

The floor of the fake phone booth began its slow descent after that and Harry took the time to get into the proper frame of mind for the events ahead. He knew that he would likely be stared at by a nerve wrackingly large amount of people, so he would need to keep his wits about him and project the image of imperturbable calm.

Fortunately, that was one of those things that Occlumency adepts frequently learned to do and Harry was advanced enough in the discipline to do it. No two Occlumancers went about it in precisely the same way as it was a personalized thing. Harry himself liked to wrap his thoughts in a peace so deep that it was like Dark. His thoughts were a river of Dark that swallowed all that entered it but remaining undisturbed. They were the vast silence between the stars that allowed no sound.

He had practiced such things often since Christmas, so it did not take him long to get into the proper mindset. He was finished shortly before he arrived in the Ministry atrium.

It was essentially a very long and wide hallway line with fireplaces that constantly burned with the green flame of floo travel. To his mild surprise, the whole thing was decorated rather tastefully, though his assumption on wizardkind's lack of restraint was vindicated by the sight of a garish golden statue of a goblin, centaur and house elf looking adoringly up at a witch and wizard. He strongly doubted that anyone save possibly the house elf harbored any kind of positive feelings towards humans.

Sirius had never been here, but Charlus and Dorea had and had explained to him what he could expect. The atrium was usually the most busy during the morning and evening hours when people arrived for work or went home, but saw a fair amount of activity through the day as well. It being three in the afternoon, it _should_ have been relatively empty, but of course the statement he'd left in the _Prophet_ and _Quibbler_ that he'd be showing up in the afternoon had attracted gawkers.

The atrium was therefore full of overly curious busybodies trying to pretend that they weren't waiting for his arrival, as well as several Aurors, Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic himself, who quite obviously _were_ waiting for him if the way they were watching the fireplaces was any indication. Apparently they'd expected him to use one of those.

Dumbledore spotted him first and swiftly strode over, the Aurors following a moment later and the Minister lagging behind like a nervous but eager puppy.

"Harry." Dumbledore greeted genially.

"Professor." Harry returned calmly, dismissing the audience as unimportant.

"You gave everyone quite the shock yesterday, my boy." The old wizard commented, his eyes twinkling with amusement. It was not how he would've dealt with the situation, but he had to admit that Harry and Sirius had come up with an effective, if loud, scheme. Sirius was likely having a good laugh at the prank they had pulled on the Wizarding World and he had to admit that Harry was handling his part much better than he had expected him to.

"That was the point." Harry stated noncommittally and Dumbledore nodded in understanding.

"May I present Aurors Shacklebolt and Dawlish, they will escort you to Amelia bones, which I see you have already surmised." Dumbledore introduced, gesturing to the two Aurors.

Shacklebolt was a tall man with dark skin and a rather jovial face, whereas Dawlish was pale and dour looking. Of the two, Shacklebolt felt considerably stronger. Both men gave him a nod and a short greeting, to which he replied in kind.

"And of course, last but not least, Conerlius Fudge, the Minister of Magic." Dumbledore finished, gesturing to the shortest man there.

"A pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Potter." The Minister positively gushed and eagerly held out a hand for him to shake.

"Likewise, Minister." Harry replied, but didn't really mean it. Despite Dumbledore's words, it was quite obvious that Cornelius Fudge was indeed the least person here, both in magic and in stature. Charlus and Dorea had met him once and been unimpressed. Harry wasn't impressed either. A politician more than a wizard and corrupt besides, nothing to him but an empty title.

But he could definitely be useful. His presence had been expected but not guaranteed. His gradnparents had advised him to imply that he would support Fudge in exchange for help with the current situation, but Harry intended to go a step further than that.

As he shook the pudgy man's hand, he sent a mild compulsion through the point of contact, urging him to help Harry as much as possible. It was slightly harder than casting such spells on Robert and Katherine, but not by much. The Minister of Magic was the weakest adult wizard he'd ever encountered, weaker even than many Hogwarts students. Harry almost felt as if the Dark inside him could swallow the man whole.

Fudge laughed nervously and fidgeted with his lime green bowler hat when he took his hand back. He hadn't expected a boy barely into his teens to be this imposing, but staring up (how was he so damned _tall_ anyway?) at those gleaming green eyes, he could easily believe that this was the one who had vanquished Voldemort as a baby.

He was even more glad now that he had asked Lucius to join them on this meeting. His good friend and advisor would surely help him make sure that this was handled properly.

"Shall we then?" He asked after nervously clearing his throat.

"Lead on." Harry prompted, his amusement at how easily bidden the Minister was a disconnected thing that didn't show on his face or in his voice.

Fudge nodded in a slightly jittery fashion and started walking at Harry's left side while Dumbledore took the right and the Aurors took up spots behind them.

Harry and Dumbledore were comfortable with their thoughts, but Fudge was apparently not.

"So...Harry, may I call you Harry?" He asked.

"If I may call you Cornelius." Harry replied unhurriedly. He felt nothing but disdain for the pudgy little man that was many decades his senior but undoubtedly a lesser wizard in spite of the age disparity. Nothing in his manner betrayed his true opinion though. He wouldn't be the first person to have been brought down by those who were less than him because he had overreached himself. A day would come when gnats like Fudge that hid their weakness behind politics would no longer concern him, but that day was quite a ways off into the future. For now, the idiot had his uses.

"Of course, of course." Fudge hastened to affirm, eager to forge close ties to someone as prominent as the Boy-Who-Lived.

On Harry's other side, Dumbledore withheld an amused smile. He wondered if Cornelius realized that he had just allowed a barely teenage boy with no tangible legal or political power to establish an equal relationship to the Minister of Magic. He wondered if Harry had done it on purpose and who had taught him if so. He wondered if Harry would even need his help to resolve this issue satisfactorily, as the lad truly was handling himself with remarkable poise. He wondered at how advanced Harry's Occlumency was to be capable of controlling himself like this already.

Dumbledore noticed that he spent a lot of time wondering where Harry was concerned.

"Anyway, I was wondering where Black was. The article in the _Daily Prophet_ didn't mention that." Fudge continued.

"I'm not going to tell you that while you have a kill on sight order on him." Harry replied dryly.

"But I'm the Minister of Magic." Fudge protested, the first notes of an injured ego coloring his tone. The petulant whine of someone who thought he deserved respect.

"And as such you are required to uphold the law, are you not?" Harry asked archly. "It would reflect poorly on you for an innocent man to be killed due to a...bureaucratic mishap."

"Yes, yes of course!" Fudge was quick to affirm, nearly stumbling over the words in his haste to be seen as respectable. He didn't want the Boy-Who-Lived of all people to be his enemy! That would be a public relations disaster perhaps even worse than this business with Black.

The urge to roll his eyes popped into being in the Dark of Harry's mind and floated there aimlessly. How had someone this stupid and spineless ever made Minister?

"I believe that there is more to the story than what we learned from the _Prophet_." Dumbledore interjected mildly. "We should not make Harry repeat himself needlessly."

"Quite right." Fudge agreed as if that had been his idea from the start.

The lull in conversation did not last long, as they came upon a man waiting for them at the lifts.

Harry didn't even need Fudge's happy exclamation of 'Lucius!' to guess that this was Draco Malfoy's father. He'd been reminded of his annoying yearmate since he'd laid eyes on the blond man that was obviously trying entirely too hard to appear as aristocratic as possible, from his fancy robes and all the way down to that pretentious snake headed cane. In addition to that, Sirius, Charlus and Dorea had all described the man to him.

He and Sirius had gotten a good laugh at their description of the Malfoys being 'froggy bastards', due to their French heritage.

"Harry, this is my good friend Lucius Malfoy. I believe you are in the same Hogwarts year as his son, Draco." Fudge introduced enthusiastically, dreaming of having the support of both Lucius Malfoy and Harry Potter.

"A pleasure." Malfoy said neutrally.

"Yes." Harry said blandly.

Neither offered their hand, well aware that they would be unfriendly acquaintances at the most unrealistically optimistic best even if they had never met before. Lucius might have tried to get close to the Potter brat if he had not already heard from Draco about the antipathy between them. Attempting to be friendly would only serve to look suspicious.

Harry was merely trusting his gut when it told him that Malfoy senior was bad news.

"If I might ask, Cornelius, why have you invited Mr. Malfoy along for this." Dumbledore inquired in the uncomfortable silence that ensued.

Lucius' eyes tightened slightly at the subtle snub. Most referred to him as Lord Malfoy, but he was technically not a Lord. The Malfoy family had no seat on the Wizengamot due to being relatively new to Britain and were thus not a Noble House. They were very rich, and that money kept them high up in politics, but they were not one of those families that had a hereditary seat on the Wizengamot. That was another reason that he had been so eager for the Black family to be absorbed into his.

Truly, wooing Narcissa Black had been one of his better ideas. His father had been impressed with it too, for the little time that he'd lived after Lucius had arranged for him to get infected with Dragon Pox.

"He's one of my chief advisors." Fudge argued, unknowingly enlightening Harry as to the likely reason for his political success.

"Yes, but you will hardly need his advice in order to listen to Harry's explanation of the _Prophet's_ article." Dumbledore countered in his best 'I'm everyone's wise and friendly grandfather' voice.

"I must say that I agree with the Headmaster." Harry added. "Your presence and that of the Aurors is expected of course and Professor Dumbledore is here both as Chief Warlock and as my current magical guardian, but as I understand it, Mr. Malfoy has no outstanding reason to be present for this."

He may not trust Dumbledore, but he wouldn't hesitate to use him as a shield if it was convenient.

"But-!" Fudge moved to protest.

Harry gave him no chance. Malfoy senior felt dangerous and he was not going to let him be present for this. The compulsion alone obviously wasn't enough for this.

"Minister." He said implacably, using his magic to press down on Fudge in a way that the basic five human senses could not perceive."This is a sensitive matter and it would not do for any more ears to hear than _strictly necessary_."

Cornelius looked into those powerful green eyes and felt the heavy regard of a much greater wizard, even if he didn't understand it.

"I'm sorry, Lucius, but he's right." He said meekly. He didn't want to send his friend away, but he couldn't gainsay the Boy-Who-Lived in this, especially with Dumbledore in on it too.

Dumbledore gave Harry a penetrating look. He had felt what the boy had done. Few wizards had the strength or knowledge to use their magic in such a fashion and they were generally of the old and powerful variety. He could do it, but even then perhaps not as subtly as Harry had just managed. How in the world had a boy of thirteen learned this skill? This bore investigating.

Lucius's lips thinned in displeasure as the group entered the lift. This, he reflected, was the problem with people like Fudge. Anyone with half a brain could yank them around and he could hardly offer the idiot a bribe in public.

Unnoticed by all, a beetle flew into the lift and hid in an unobtrusive corner

XXXXX

Harry found the Ministry lifts to be rather puzzling. The atrium was apparently on the 8th undreground floor, which meant that the visitor's entrance had taken him quite deep. Now they were going up again.

Wouldn't it have made more sense to have the atrium on the 1st floor if you were going to build underground? Wizards made no sense.

The short ride passed in silence, as Fudge seemed to be too off kilter after being made to leave Malfoy behind to chatter.

The walk through the DMLE was similarly short and uneventful, though Harry did find his attention captured once when they passed through Auror Headquarters, by a young woman in Auor robes. She was dressed properly for her job, but her spiky purple hair gave her the image of a punk rocker trying to infiltrate law enforcement.

She noticed him staring, her hair turned pink and she gave him a rather saucy wink, prompting Harry to return the gesture with a flirtatious smirk.

"Who was that?" He asked, quite sure that Dumbledore would know who he was referring to. The now pink haired Auror was very pretty and looked like loads of fun.

"Who was who?" Fudge asked in confusion, having missed the short byplay entirely.

"I believe that Harry was referring to Nymphadora Tonks." Dumbledore said, sounding amused. "A very capable young lady and a fine Auror." And Moody's last protégé, whom the grizzled old Auror had already recommended for recruitment into the Order of the Phoenix should it be reconvened.

There was an opportunity here.

"Why did her hair change like that?" Harry asked before Fudge could make an even bigger ass of himself.

"She is a Metamorphmagus, a natural shapeshifter." The old wizard explained.

"That sounds very useful." Harry mused. He knew that it was somewhat typically male of him, but his mind instantly jumped to the bedroom applications of such an ability.

"Indeed." Dumbledore agreed, sounding even more amused. He'd probably guessed what Harry had just thought about. "Further deliberation on the applications of shapeshifting will have to wait though, for we have arrived at Madam Bones' office."

Yes, Dumbledore had definitely guessed it.

XXXXX

Harry quickly deduced that Amelia Bones was a formidable witch, and not someone that could be pushed around like Fudge. Hers was the strongest presence he'd felt so far, bar Dumbledore himself.

The two Aurors left and then it was just her, him, Dumbledore and Fudge in the room. Something felt wrong about that number, but Harry couldn't for the life of him place what it was.

"Mr. Potter." Bones said by way of greeting, her displeasure ringing as clearly as a bell. "You've caused me and my department a great deal of trouble and embarrassment with those articles in the _Prophet_ and the _Quibbler_."

Concern welled up in him at her tone, but was swallowed by the Dark in his mind and did not affect his composure.

"I apologize," He said calmly. "but I saw no better way to ensure my godfather's exoneration."

Amelia stared hard at the boy, noting with grudging respect that he remained unmoved by it. In fact, the only one who looked uncomfortable was Fudge. She wondered what had happened to Malfoy, whom she knew that the bumbling idiot had been planning to include on this meeting. Good riddance either way. She'd been tempted to cleave the bastard's head off more than once in the past twelve years.

"I'm sure that we can get this handled quickly, Amelia." The Minister fretted, worrying at his hat.

"We will handle it by the book, if that's alright with you Mr. Potter?" She stated more than asked in a tone that brooked no disagreement, a trace of sarcasm showing up at the end.

Harry felt a stirring of decidedly more personal interest in the woman. She was quite severe looking, but not at all unattractive, though that monocle was a bit odd. He wondered if she was this forceful all the time.

The thought was pushed aside. This was _definitely_ not the time for that.

"Of course, Madam Bones."

"Good." She said with a firm nod. "Now, the first thing I want to know is when and how you came into contact with Black in the first place."

"During my very first Hogsmeade weekend. I recognized his Animagus form and got him away from there before he did something stupid." He felt a spike of... _something_ when he said that, but he once again failed to pin it down.

"Animagus form?" Bones asked, talking right over Fudge's surprised exclamation and noting Dumbledore's lack of surprise at the information.

"Yes, a big black dog. I remember him using it to play with me when I was a baby." _Sorry Sirius, I know you wanted to keep that a secret, but Bryanna and Tiana were sure to have figured it out after this, if they haven't already. I might like them, but I'm not sure they'd keep it a secret and trying, and more importantly failing, to hide your Animagus ability is the last thing you need._

"Your memory stretches that far back?" Dumbledore asked in some surprise.

"Yes." Harry answered simply.

"Do you remember what it was that caused Voldemort's downfall then?" The old wizard pressed.

Fudge yelped at the use of the Dark Lord's name, looking like he'd nearly lost control of his bladder.

Amelia merely twitched, the remnants of an old reflex.

"I do, but I'd rather not talk about it." Harry said. "It's not something that can really be used in anything other than a very specific set of circumstances."

Most people did not have months of forewarning that they were going to be murdered after all, nevermind the skill required to turn their own murder into a ritual sacrifice.

"Getting back to the matter at hand, what kind of stupid thing did you expect Black to do?" Bones asked, determined to stay on point despite her own interest.

"Sneak into the Gryffindor common room and murder Peter Pettigrew." Harry replied with a bland smile. That odd feeling from before manifested again, but remained elusive.

This time, even Dumbledore was surprised, though he quickly deduced the truth. He had assumed that the Weasley family rat had actually been several rats that Molly and Arthur had kept replacing in order to not upset their children, but it had apparently been just one Animagus.

"Am I to understand that Peter Pettigrew is also an Animagus and was hiding in Hogwarts all this time?" Bones asked, guessing at the truth.

"Close, he was a rat Animagus and had been hiding with the Weasley family ever since his confrontation with Sirius."

"Was?" Bones asked sharply, picking up on the use of past tense.

Harry sighed heavily as he answered. "Yes, was. You see, I bought him from Ron Weasley just before the Christmas break. Sirius and I were intending to come forward with him and reveal the truth of what had happened after Voldemort's defeat."

"So why didn't you?"

"Sirius wanted to talk to him, he wanted to ask why Pettigrew had betrayed them and I admit that I wanted to hear it too. He was supposed to be their friend, but he sold them out to save his own skin. Sirius was always a brash sort and Azkaban hadn't improved his self-control any, so things got a little out of hand."

"Out of hand how?" Amelia's voice was considerably harder now.

"There was a lot of shouting and we stupidly hadn't thought to disarm the rat. Pettigrew reached for his wand and I panicked. I didn't even know what spell I was going to cast, I just knew that I couldn't let him do it first. Before I knew what had happened, I'd fired off a blasting curse." Harry did his best to put a tremor in his voice, though he wasn't sure how successful he was in that. He'd practiced doing it, but there really was no substitute for the real thing and he couldn't muster much emotion over this months old issue anymore.

Fudge went a little pale and Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder supportively, though he was sure that there was a very uncomfortable conversation going to happen between them in the near future.

Amelia on the other hand, was clenching her jaw and looking deeply irritated.

"You mean to tell me, that you have killed a man and presumably had his body stashed somewhere since _Christmas_ and have deigned to report it only _now_?" She demanded slowly, her expression thunderous.

Harry winced, but went on with his explanation. "Sirius and I were at a bit of a loss as to how we were going to explain this without him ending up lunch for the dementors. We argued about it for months until we finally decided that putting that article in the papers was probably the surest way of doing it."

That those months were also spent planning out how to get away with it went unsaid.

"Why didn't we receive any notifications about underage magic use?" Amelia asked suspiciously, seeing a slight discrepancy in the story.

"We were in an area warded against detection at the time."

"Harry, why didn't you come to me with this?" Dumbledore asked sadly. "I could have helped you."

"You were Chief Warlock when he was first thrown in prison, Professor." Harry pointed out. "You didn't ensure that he got a trial back then and we were only going to get one chance at this. There was no guarantee that he'd get one now."

Dumbledore looked even more saddened by that.

"Wait a second, Black was never tried?" Amelia interjected, momentarily surprised out of her anger at the way that Potter and Black had played fast and loose with the law.

"No. From what he told me, he chased down Pettigrew only for the rat to fire off the blasting curse that blew up the street and the muggles on it. The explosion had rattled him pretty badly and by the time he'd gotten his wits about him, he'd already been in Azkaban." Harry explained.

"Crouch is going to have a _lot_ of explaining to do." Amelia growled.

"Indeed he will!" Fudge hurried to add, eager to be seen as the man that was correcting past injustices. He might actually benefit from this if he dumped all the blame on Bagnold and Crouch!

"And speaking of that, here is Pettigrew's wand." Harry said, pulling it out of on of his robe pockets. "It might still have the trace of that blasting curse on it, since I doubt that it's been used since then."

Amelia took it and cast Priori Incantatem on it, seeing that it did indeed register a blasting curse as the last spell to be cast.

"I also have one _other_ wand for you." Harry went on once she did that, more slowly now. He reached into another pocket and drew out a wand with a ghastly white bone handle, which he was sure had been a later affectation instead of something that Ollivander had made for an eleven year old.

"I know that wand." Amelia said softly "How did you get it?"

"Pettigrew had it with him. I assume that he grabbed it from my room."

"I don't understand, whose wand is that?" Fudge demanded, obviously not recognizing it.

"Voldemort's, Cornelius." Dumbledore told him calmly, ignoring the way the Minister flinched.

"All this aside, that still leaves us with you Mr. Potter. You've harbored a known criminal, even though it seems that he was innocent, and you've hidden the fact that you've killed someone for months now, even if it was in self-defense."

"Come now, Amelia, surely you can't blame the lad for wanting to do right by his godfather? The man has clearly suffered enough already." Fudge interjected.

"Thank you, Cornelius, I appreciate your support." Harry said, aiming a smile at the Minister.

Amelia's face went stony for a moment as she saw the way that Potter had Fudge wrapped around his little finger already, not that it was exactly a difficult feat. That, combined with Dumbledore's obvious support would mean that Potter would be getting away with this whole debacle with barely a slap on the wrist, nevermind a full investigation. The most that she'd be able to do was put a black mark on his record, anything else would get waved off by Fudge in an effort to curry favor with the Boy-Who-Lived.

She hated it when politics got mixed up with the law. She hadn't been intending to throw Potter into Azkaban over this, he was only thirteen after all, but the obvious abuse of his reputation, Dumbledore's protection and Fudge's... _Fudgeness_ , grated on her.

"I want Pettigrew's body, and I want to talk to Black. _Immediately_." She bit out.

"Right away, Madam Bones." Harry quickly agreed, seeing that the formidable witch was most definitely not happy with him.

"You're taking an Auror escort with you." She stated uncompromisingly.

"If I might suggest Nymphadora Tonks?" Dumbledore said, his eyes on maximum twinkle. "She is a cousin of Sirius' and might serve to put him more at ease than others."

Harry gave the Headmaster an incredulous look. Was the old man seriously helping him get hooked up with the pretty shapeshifter?

"An excellent idea!" Fudge contributed, oblivious as ever.

Amelia gave Potter and Dumbledore a scrutinizing look, wondering what they were up to that involved Auror Tonks.

"Why her in particular?" She demanded.

"She is a most impressive young lady." Dumbledore replied, sounding very amused.

Amelia knew that this was true. Tonks might be a rookie and bit of a klutz, but she was powerful and resourceful. She fully expected her to become one of the best in a few years, after she got some experience under her belt.

That didn't explain why Dumbledore had suggested her though. There didn't seem to be anything nefarious about it and it _was_ the kind of assignment that a rookie would be given, but Black was pretty high profile and she didn't feel charitable enough to go along with whatever this was.

"I'm assigning Shacklebolt to be your escort."

Was that a flash of disappointment that had just crossed Potter's face?

XXXXX

As Madam Bones' office emptied, Rita Skeeter buzzed stealthily out of the Ministry of Magic in her beetle Animagus form, nearly vibrating with excitement over all the material she'd just gathered. The _Daily Prophet's_ next headline would be _sensational_!

XXXXX

Harry felt that things had gone rather well, all things considered. Fudge's presence had been unexpectedly useful, as the man was quite obviously a politician for hire, supporting whoever would benefit him the most. Of course, this might be a bit problematic in the future if he ever expected Harry's support, but no promises had been made.

Amelia Bones had been quite a bit more intense than he'd been expecting, but he supposed that not every pureblood could be a useless waste of air. He hoped that he hadn't made an enemy out of her, as a woman like that could cause him quite a bit of grief in the future if she put her mind to it.

Dumbledore had acted more or less as expected, aside from that very odd attempt to contrive an opportunity for Harry to talk to the interesting Metamorphmagus Auror. He really had to wonder what the old man had hoped to achieve with that.

The thing that _really_ bothered him about that meeting was the strange feelings he'd been getting the whole time. It had felt almost like there was another person in the room, but the only thing he had to go on with this theory was his gut feeling and the strange spikes of emotion when he said something particularly surprising.

XXXXX

Sirius had been anxiously pacing through the foyer of Potter Manor ever since Harry had left for the Ministry, waiting for his turn. His godson had wanted to keep the use of the place secret, displaying Moody-like levels of paranoia about information but had eventually conceded that the DMLE at least would need to be informed now.

It was almost a relief when Harry returned with the tall Auror that he introduced as Shacklebolt and he was side-along apparated directly to the DMLE to avoid any lingering gawkers. Even if things went pear-shaped, at least the tense waiting was over.

It had been replaced by an entirely new kind of tension.

"Sirius Black." Amelia Bones said in a stony tone that betrayed a certain amount of irritation.

"In the flesh." Sirius replied with a winning smile. He noted with dismay that Madam Bones seemed immune to his charm.

"First, let me just assure you that you aren't going back to Azkaban anytime soon. Since Crouch didn't even bother to properly charge you with a crime before throwing you in there, the Ministry actually owes you quite the hefty apology, as well as compensation if we determine that you are indeed innocent." She went on, almost kindly.

"I appreciate that." Sirius said, feeling a certain amount of tension bleed out of him. It was good to know that Amelia was as fair as her reputation claimed.

"That being said, I am _extremely_ annoyed by the stunt that you and your godson pulled." The kindness was now replaced with a growl as she glared at him. "Now you are going to tell me everything that happened from the moment that the Potters switched Secret Keepers to the moment that you set foot in my office and if I find out that the two of you are trying to pull another fast one on me, then I am going to bury you. I don't care if your godson has Fudge and Dumbledore on his side, I am going to find a way to do it. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." Sirius nodded, swallowing nervously. What a scary woman.

XXXXX

Harry had an uncomfortable conversation of his own to attend to and his wasn't even with an attractive older lady.

Dumbledore had somehow arranged for a private room for them and spent the next few minutes liberally applying privacy spells to make sure that it was actually private.

Once he was done with that, he turned to Harry and stared at him inscrutably, saying nothing.

Well, two could play that game. Harry stared back impassively, sinking further into the deep sense of peaceful Dark that had allowed him to keep himself composed during this entire nerve wracking experience.

"I see that your study of Occlumency is progressing well." Dumbledore finally said.

"Yes." Hary replied unhelpfully. The old wizard would have to broach the subject more directly than that.

"I could have helped you, my boy." Dumbledore said sadly, repeating himself from earlier when he saw Harry's reticence. "If you had come to me after meeting Sirius, I would have listened. We could have captured Pettigrew easily and all of this would never have needed to happen."

Harry heard the implication as clearly as the words. You would never have needed to be a killer. It would have been better if you trusted me to handle things for you. He still didn't understand why Dumbledore wanted his trust so badly.

"You have a history of poor decisions behind you. I couldn't risk having you make another. Not with this." He said evenly.

Dumbledore sighed in a greatly put upon manner. "I am not perfect, Harry. I can make mistakes the same as any man, especially when I don't have all the facts as was the case with Sirius."

"Leaving me with the Dursleys? Leaving the school open with a basilisk on the loose? You should have had enough information to prevent those."

"There were extenuating circumstances for those decisions." Dumbledore argued, but declined to elaborate. He was not used to explaining himself to people.

"Hmm." Harry replied, unconvinced. "It doesn't matter anymore and we've gotten off topic. This matter is settled, Sirius will get the acquittal he deserves and become my guardian as my parents wanted."

He was perfect for it too. Still as immature as a man less than half his age and not at all inclined to be responsible, especially when he seemed to be looking at Harry as a replacement for his murdered friend rather than as a child to be protected. A poor parent and one more suited to doing rather than thinking. Perfect for Harry's purposes, as he'd likely leave him to do all the thinking.

"Yes, he no doubt will." Dumbledore agreed. He wasn't going to try getting in the way of that, even though he had some misgivings about Sirius' ability in that area. "I am merely saddened that the process was so messy."

"Was that all?" Harry asked, getting tired of the conversation.

"Just one more thing." Dumbledore promised. "Minister Fudge and Lucius Malfoy may not be sensitive enough to notice what you did, but I am."

"And what did I do?" Harry asked noncommittally, inwardly very worried. He might have become a great deal stronger since the first time he'd felt the power of Dumbledore's magic back in second year, but he was under no illusions that he would be able to match him. Even if their magic were of equal potency(which it wasn't), Dumbledore was simply too experienced right now for him to fight in any way. If the old man decided to start being difficult, then he could be very difficult indeed.

"You wielded your magic as a tool of intimidation, forcing the Minister to comply with your wishes to send Malfoy away."

Ah, _that_. The ability to project your will on another by exerting a spiritual pressure on them. He hadn't expected that any wand-reliant wizard would be aware of themselves enough to realize that their magic was more than just a power source for their spells, but he supposed that had been foolish of him. It had been arrogant to assume that everyone but him was completely blind.

"I do not know how you are capable of such a thing at your age, but I do know that you have used some ritual to speed your growth."

Harry's face went completely blank at that, listening silently as Dumbledore went on.

"I do not know which, as my own research has unearthed no ritual that fits my observations, nor do I know what price you paid for it. Furthermore, I suspect that you did not perform only one such ritual, as your mind went from completely undefended to impenetrable too quickly to be the result of Occlumency training."

"Is there a point to this, Professor?" Harry asked, deciding to ignore Dumbledore's not-quite admission to casual use of Legilimency. He'd already known that the old man did it after all.

"Yes, there is." Dumbledore said softly. "I would caution you to temper your lust for power, Harry. I was much like you in my youth. I too desired power over all other things and resented anything that held me back from my ambitions. It was only when those same ambitions caused the death of my sister that I saw the ruin I was causing around me. I would not wish for you to go through the same thing."

"I'll keep it in mind." Harry said, but was mostly just annoyed by the little speech.

"I know that I must sound terribly patronizing to you right now." Dumbledore chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I imagine that my advice is unwanted and the implication that you would repeat my mistakes resented."

Harry didn't reply, not wanting to make an obvious lie by denying it but also unwilling to outright agree.

"Wizards and witches have a very strange relationship with power." Dumbledore went on, seemingly off topic. "They hate it and adore it, fear it and worship it. The powerful among us do not often get the luxury of keeping to ourselves as we grow in strength. Whether by our own actions or by that of others, we find ourselves thrust into the center of events."

"Is that why you're the Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump, despite not being from a Noble House?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, interested in spite of himself. He knew that neither of those posts required that the holder be from a Noble House, especially the Supreme Mugwump one as it was an international position, but they did usually require a lot of money to get elected, something that he was reasonably certain that Dumbledore did not have an abundance of.

"Ah, you've noticed that, have you?" The old wizard asked rhetorically. "Indeed, after my defeat of Grindelwald, there was no shortage of people eager to foist all responsibility for everything on me."

"And you expect that I will find myself in the same situation?" Harry guessed.

"You have had a reputation since the night Voldemort attacked you and have shown great potential in your schooling since then. There are those who will want to use you and what you represent to further their own agendas, or seek to remove you if they feel you will oppose them. This is especially true now that you have drawn attention to yourself." Dumbledore explained.

"So...what, am I supposed to cower and pretend to be less than I am?" Harry demanded. Pretend mediocrity to appease the masses unimaginative sheep? Unacceptable. He wanted to unravel the deepest mysteries of magic, not quibble over cauldron bottom thickness with a bunch of old greybeards who had more in common with mundane politicians than actual wizards. Even becoming a Dark Lord would be preferrable to that.

Dumbledore needed no Legilimency to guess at Harry's thoughts. He had felt the same way once. He imagined that most of those who stood above their peers felt that way at some point.

It was so easy to look down on those who were less powerful than yourself. So easy to become frustrated with society's limitations on magic use when you felt yourself capable of doing it, of mastering anything. Dumbledore still remembered the hunger for more and the bitter resentment at anything that stood in his way. He had been well on the path of a Dark Lord when Ariana's death had shocked some sense into him. Sometimes, as he paced in his office late at night, he still wondered if he could have swayed Gellert away from that path if he had been wiser and less bullheaded in his youth.

But all that hard earned wisdom would be meaningless to a lad of thirteen that didn't want to hear it. It had been meaningless to Tom Riddle as well.

"No, Harry, I do not expect you to do that. It is quite too late for that even if you wanted to. Instead, I would offer my help in navigating the treacherous waters you've just entered. I mean no disrespect to Sirius, but he is not a politician. You are still a few years away from your majority, regardless of the state of your body, but people like Minister Fudge will not be stopped by that in their attempts to use you. We may even be able to squeeze in a few lessons on magic."

Words may be meaningless, but an offer of help and a bribe of knowledge might work. He could try to steer the boy away from his current path during their meetings. Harry would eventually need to die in a confrontation with Voldemort anyway, but it would be much better if he did it as a champion of good rather than as a rival Dark Lord.

Harry was honestly tempted to accept just for the magic lessons. He might not trust Dumbledore, but the old man was indisputably an accomplished wizard. But the fact of the matter was that he _didn't_ trust him and he remembered a saying he'd heard from somewhere, something about help when offered but not needed often being no help at all.

Besides, the only politics he intended to do was abusing the shit out of his noble status. Other than that, he was planning to do his own thing.

"I'll think about it." He said without really meaning it. Better to try navigating treacherous waters alone than with the help of a shark.

XXXXX

After that conversation, Harry made his way back to the DMLE. For one thing, he needed to wait for Sirius to finish talking to Director Bones.

For another, he wanted to talk to that cute Auror. This would actually be the first time that he was so blatantly making the first move with a girl since Zoe, and even then he'd been given an opening when she'd caught him staring at her boobs. Fortunately, Harry was finding the prospect of approaching a girl considerably less daunting ever since he'd killed Pettigrew. It was morbid as all hell, but killing a person had a way of changing your outlook on life and that wasn't even mentioning the ritual shenanigans that had happened immediately after.

It took a little effort to find her, as the area was divided into cubicles, but he knew her name and it was easy to ask which one was hers.

He found her in short order after that. She was doing paperwork and her previously vibrant hair had turned a dull brown. It wasn't even as spiky as it had been earlier.

"Good afternoon." He greeted, giving the wall of her cubicle a light knock.

She looked up and her mood visibly improved upon having something other than paperwork to do. Literally, as her hair perked up and turned a light purple.

"Wo- I mean, good afternoon Mr. Potter. What can I do for you?" Her hair turned an almost red sort of pink as she stumbled over the words.

Harry was deeply amused at seeing that her hair seemed to act like some kind of magical mood indicator. She'd obviously been going for a casual greeting before recalling that on-duty Aurors were supposed to be officious when talking to civilians, and was embarrassed by her near-blunder.

"Just Harry please. I've been called Mr. Potter too much today already." He said with his most charming smile.

"Well then, Harry, I suppose you can call me Tonks since you've saved me from having to do paperwork for a while." She smirked back, hair going a more playful pink.

"Not Nymphadora?" He inquired with an exagerrated wounded look.

"No." She growled, hair turning an indisputably angry red.

Okay, dangerous territory.

"Not fond of your name I take it?" He asked.

"You wouldn't be fond of your name either if my damn fool mother had been the one to pick one for you." Tonks grumbled.

"At least your name sounds special." Harry commiserated. "What kind of name is 'Harry' for a wizard anyway? I might as well go around calling myself Tim the Enchanter."

"Was that a Monty Python reference?" Tonks asked with a surprised laugh.

"You understood a Monty Python reference?" Harry asked back with equal surprise.

"My dad's a muggleborn and he loved those movies, insisted that we watch them. Mum and I didn't think they were as funny as he claimed, but we watched them anyway." Tonks explained.

"I'm just happy that I've finally met someone who understood one of my references." Harry replied with overdone relief. "You have no idea how much it sucks to make a Conan the Barbarian joke and only get blank looks in return."

"Who?" Tonks asked blankly.

"Yeah, that's the one." Harry sighed despondently, slumping his shoulders.

"Aw come one, you can't expect me to get every reference." She protested.

"I guess not, but you really got my hopes up with the Monty Python one." Harry complained.

"Well, excuuuse me." Tonks apologized sarcastically, smirking widely. Potter was turning out to be a lot more interesting than she'd expected him to be. And a great alternative to paperwork.

"How about you make it up to me by letting me take you on a date?" Harry proposed, once again smiling at her.

Tonks couldn't help it, she burst out into a loud peal of laughter that probably garnered some very odd looks from the Aurors in the surrounding cubicles.

"I'm going to take that as a yes." Harry said with dignity. He absolutely loved that hair of hers. It was keeping mostly to playfully bright pink colors that he was fairly sure indicated that she wasn't at all annoyed by his advances. She could probably control it if she wanted to, but as long as she wasn't bothering, he pretty much got free cues on how well he was doing.

"Smooth, Potter. Real smooth." She replied, still chuckling.

"I thought we agreed on 'Harry', and I'm still not hearing a 'no'."

"You're funny, but I usually prefer my men a bit...older."

"What a coincidence! I usually prefer my women a bit older, so we've already got something in common."

"What women?" Tonks snorted. "You might be able to pull off the late teens look, but everyone knows that you're only fourteen."

Harry decided to make no comment about not being fourteen yet.

"You'd be surprised." He said mysteriously. "If you want, I can tell you all about it on our date."

"You're serious? You really want want to take me on a date?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. She hadn't thought that he was actually serious about taking her on a date, but he apparently really was ballsy enough to ask out an Auror at his age and expect her to agree to it.

"No, Sirius is my godfather and he's currently getting grilled by your boss." Harry smirked.

"Merlin's hairy bollocks, that was horrible." Tonks groaned. "I remember Sirius making that stupid pun when I was a kid, but it didn't sound so bad back then and I didn't expect it from anyone else."

"You think that's bad? Just wait until I make one with my own name." Harry said back with a grin.

Tonks looked confused for a moment before it dawned on her what he was talking about.

"Don't you dare." She warned.

"I mean, I shaved before coming here, but I just can't stop being Harry!"

"You evil git, you're supposed to be a paragon of good, not some pun spewing monster."

"Don't believe everything you read, I'll keep throwing my darkest, dankest puns at you until you agree to go on a date with me and Sirius is probably going to be in there for _hours_ , so I've got plenty of time."

"Fine, I'll go on a date with you! Just... _stop_."

XXXXX

When Sirius finally got to leave Director Bones' office, he was mentally exhausted. The woman was like a dog with a bone, and Sirius felt uniquely qualified to make that comparison.

It had taken _forever_ before she was satisfied with his rendition of events and even then she'd still piled up a small mountain of conditions before allowing him to leave.

His Animagus form would be registered now, which just plain sucked. He'd have to keep an amulet with a tracking charm on his person at all times that would vibrate if they wanted to speak to him again. He was to stay inside Potter Manor until a press release could be given that confirmed his innocence so as not to cause a panic. He was to stay available for further interviews at all times, until the DMLE was fully satisfied with their investigation. He was mildly surprised that she hadn't insisted on collaring Padfoot as well.

Sirius had the distinct feeling that he and Harry had deeply irritated Amelia Bones.

Now he just had to find his godson and go back home. He knew that Harry had received a similar set of orders, though slightly more lenient since he was a minor.

"All done?" Auror Shacklebolt asked as he closed the door behind him.

Sirius liked the dark skinned Auror. The man was polite and respectful and showed none of the hostility that he'd seen on the faces of some of the others. He'd been professional and even sympathetic for the entirety of their admittedly short acquiaintance.

"Yeah." He breathed. "That boss of yours is one tough cookie."

"You should've seen her this morning when the _Prophet_ came in." Shacklebolt chuckled. "She looked about ready to breathe fire."

"I can believe that, it _did_ feel remarkably like being locked in a room with an angry dragon." Sirius said with a theatrical shudder. "Now where is that godson of mine?"

Shacklebolt suddenly looked uncomfortable. "He's been talking to Auror Tonks while you've been in with the boss."

"Auror Tonks?" Sirius blinked. "Not Nymphadora Tonks? Andromeda's little girl?"

"That's her."

"And she's an Auror now?"

"That's right, Mad-Eye Moody's last trainee before he retired."

"That's great, I haven't seen her since she was six. Where is she?" He and Andromeda had never been hugely close, but she was his favorite cousin by far(admittedly not saying much when the other choices were a crazy sadist like Bellatrix and a spoiled snob like Narcissa, but Andromeda was a genuinely decent woman), so seeing her now grown up daughter again would be nice.

"Right this way." Shacklebolt sighed and led him through the maze of cubicles.

Sirius had to blink in surprise again when he laid eyes on his godson. Harry was apparently having a very good time flirting with Andromeda's daughter.

"So that's how it is?" Sirius demanded when he saw this, bidding Shacklebolt goodbye as the big Auror went back to work. "I'm getting interrogated and you're over here, flirting with my cousin the whole time?"

"Cut the crap, Sirius, you'd do the exact same thing." Harry retorted dryly without missing the beat.

"You're damn right I would. You make me so proud." Sirius grinned. He decided not to comment on the fact that Tonks and Harry were related. Dorea and Andromeda weren't that close on the family tree anyway, not nearly as close as the first cousin relationship of his own parents at any rate.

"Wotcher, Sirius. Long time no see." Tonks greeted with a wave.

"I'll say. The last time I saw you, you were just a little girl with rainbow colored hair that hated her first name." He agreed.

"She still does." Harry said with grin.

"Are you serious?" Sirius grinned back.

Tonks groaned, anticipating some bad puns.

"No, _you're_ Sirius. I'm Harry."

"But I saw you shave today!"

"I know right? It's uncanny."

"Will you two idiots _please_ stop with the puns? I already agreed to go on a date with Harry." Tonks groaned again.

"Harry, did you get yourself a date by using _puns_?" Sirius asked, very much impressed.

"Yep, you could say that I _Black_ mailed her into it."

"Hehehehe."

"You're monsters, both of you. You should be in Azkaban for having such a horrible sense of humor."

"That would be quite the _pun_ ishment."

"This is why people hate their relatives."

XXXXX

Waiting on the muggle side of London, Tonks really had to wonder how she'd gotten roped into a date with a kid that didn't look quite as young as he should, nor act like it.

Ah yes, of course. He'd been funny, charming, very persistent and depressingly enough, more interesting than her usual brand of suitors. If she had to put up with one more idiot who thought he was being clever by asking what her 'true form' was, she might have seriously started considering the use of the Cruciatus as a corrective measure. The fact that she'd also found him rather attractive was best not considered. That way lay confusion.

Having a muggleborn father and a pureblood mother had been the cause of more than one culture clash during her upbringing, such as each parent having _very_ different ideas on the age of consent. Her mother would not be at all bothered by this date, but it would be for the best if her father never heard of it.

It had been good to see Sirius again. She remembered liking him the few times that he had visited and being very upset when he suddenly stopped. She hadn't learned about his supposed murder spree until years later. It was gratifying to know that he was innocent, bad puns and all.

Speaking of Sirius, the man had wished them well on their date(complete with lewd remark of course) and gone back to Potter Manor. He was apparently planning to write to a friend of his and spend the evening catching up since he was effectively grounded until Madam Bones issued a press release declaring him innocent of all charges. Harry had gone with him to change out of his robes since they'd agreed that the date was going to take place on the muggle side.

Tonks was pretty sure that her boss had chewed out both Sirius and Harry for the way they'd sprung this whole thing on her. The entire department had tiptoed around her since morning, wary of attracting her obvious wrath. Even Scrimgeour, the humorless bastard, had looked a bit aprehensive.

She spotted her date approaching then, cutting through her train of thought. She had to admit that he cleaned up rather well in his black shirt and slacks, if a bit monochromatic.

"M'lady." He greeted with good natured mockery, looking over at her ripped blue jeans, black combat boots, pink tube tob, open black jacket, decorative black choker and of course, her usual spiky purple hair. "You look ravishing."

"And you look like like you wouldn't know casual if it bit you on the arse." She snarked back. They were going to look ridiculously mismatched.

"Ah, but not all of us can look as good as you in casual clothes and I felt that you deserved my best." He rejoinedered.

"Laying it on a bit thick, aren't you?" She asked dryly.

"Not at all." He grinned. "The punk rocker look definitely suits you."

"Not going to be embarrassed to be seen with me then?" She asked with exaggerated disappointment, falling into step with him as they started walking.

"Embarrassed to be seen with a such a beautiful woman? Impossible. Meeting with that _Daily Prophet_ reporter, now _that_ was embarrassing."

Tonks rolled her eyes at the continued flattery, but was inwardly pleased nonetheless. It was always nice to be complimented. "What was he wearing? Some of the more muggle savvy of us in the DMLE have a competition going on who can find the most ridiculously dressed witch or wizard."

"That sounds like an interesting competition." Harry commented before describing the Oktoberfest-esque outfit that Smugley had worn for their meeting.

Tonks shook her head in disbelief once he was done. "I swear, some of these people _have_ to be doing it on purpose. Either that, or they're getting their source material from the most out of the ordinary places possible. A few months back, there was a witch brought to St. Mungo's that thought all muggles dressed like death metal bands. She'd put a layer of white paint on her face that was at least an inch thick and used magic to solidify it."

"You can't be serious." Harry asked incredulously.

"No, that's your godfather." Tonks snarked vengefully.

"I probably deserved that." He admitted.

"Yes, yes you did."

"So what happened with the death metal witch?"

"Nearly suffocated under the paint, probably would have if her sister hadn't been there to apparate them both to St. Mungo's. I heard that the healers had to use a paint stripping spell to get her face cleared, took her eyebrows and eyelashes with it."

Harry winced. "That must've hurt."

"Probably." Tonks agreed. "Where are we going anyway? You never did tell me what you had planned for this date."

They'd agreed to stick to muggle entertainment for several reasons. For one, the Wizarding World tended to close its doors earlier. For another, it simply didn't have quite as much to offer in the way of entertainment either since it was so much smaller.

That was actually the primary reason that Tonks was so well acquainted with the Muggle World in the first place. The fun on this side was much more to her tastes.

"It's pretty late already, so our options are a bit limited. I was thinking dinner and a movie?"

"Works for me." She'd had the afternoon shift today and hadn't eaten anything substantial since leaving home.

"I hope you don't mind buffets. Regular restaurants always give out too small portions for me."

XXXXX

"How are you not the size of Hagrid?" Tonks demanded, seeing Harry finish off his third plate of food.

"Magic." He answered mysteriously, trying to keep down a grin and not being entirely successful.

"Seriously, you must eat as much as him." Tonks insisted.

"Nah, not _that_ much." Harry refuted, but wasn't entirely certain. The Hogwarts gamekeeper tended to eat more in one sitting than him, but Harry knew that he ate more often.

And that wasn't even mentioning the various supplements he took, such as vitamins, calcium, iron and magnesium. He'd gotten a bit worried about nutrition after finding his appetite increased to its current ridiculous level, and had researched what he might be lacking in his diet. He didn't want to assume that magic would handle everything and later discover that his bones had become brittle from growing too fast with too little calcium or something. It was odd to feel grateful for Katherine's obsessive nutrition phase that he was even aware of that potential problem.

Potter Manor now had a room dedicated to the storage of a rather large amount of dietary supplements that Teeny faithfully brought him every day. He really wanted to do something nice for the little elf, because her help had been truly indispensable, but she threatened to cry every time he tried and there was nothing quite so guilt inducing as a blubbering house elf.

"Besides, can't you regulate your own figure with your special ability?" He asked. They were in a fairly out of the way corner, so it was safe to talk about magic if they were discrete about it.

"Some." She admitted. "But I'd still get fat if I ate like you."

"What are the limits of your shapeshifting anyway?" He pressed, seizing the opportunity. He'd been burning with curiousity about the ability ever since he'd heard of it. That had only increased when he'd gotten a good feel for Tonks' magic. It was far more...fluid or maybe mutable would be a better term, than what he felt in other magicals.

"I can't add or remove too much mass, but other than that I can do more or less anything."

"Even gender switching?" He asked further, eyebrows climbing upwards in surprise.

"Why, you'd prefer to date a man?" She asked back with a smirk.

"I walked right into that one." He said ruefully.

"Yup." She agreed smugly. "But yes, I can switch gender if I want to."

"That's incredible." He muttered. "But how? Wouldn't that require you to focus on all the internal changes?"

"Not really." She shrugged. "I just focus on what I want and it sort of happens by itself. I guess my magic must know what to do even if I don't."

"Fascinating. I wonder if it actually accesses your DNA to get the relevant information, or does it just forcibly change it?" He mused to himself, garnering an odd look from his date. "I don't suppose you would be willing to submit to experimentation?"

Tonks rolled her eyes at both the question and his cheesy grin when he asked it. "The Department of Mysteries already asked that and I'm sure you can guess what my answer was."

"No?" He ventured.

"I wasn't quite that polite, but you're essentially correct."

"Ah, too bad." He sighed dramatically. "I was hoping to duplicate the ability."

He was still going to try.

"Of course you did, bloody Ravenclaw." Tonks snorted. "This is why Hufflepuff is the best, you nerds don't know when to stop studying and the less said about Gryffindor and Slytherin the better."

"Can I have just one more question on this topic?" Harry requested.

This time it was Tonks who sighed dramatically, reaching for her glass of water. "Fine."

"Are you using it to keep your boobs so perky, or is that natural?"

The Auror spluttered with surprised laughter at the impertinent question, spitting a bit of water over her empty plate.

"See? I can have fun." Harry said smugly while Tonks worked on clearing her esophagus.

"Touché, Potter, touché." Tonks conceded. "I'm afraid that your question is stupid though, oh great intellectual comedian. For me, it's more natural to use my metamorph abilities than not."

"Ah." Harry nodded sagely. "So your boobs are both naturally perky and saggy. It's a breast paradox."

"How dare you call my girls saggy!" Tonks said, perhaps a bit too loudly if the odd look from a passing employee was any indication. "I'll have you know that I barely even need a bra. They're _that_ perky."

"That's definitely something worth bragging about in public." Harry commented dryly, making Tonks flush in embarrassment as she realized that their conversation had gotten just a wee bit too loud to still be called discrete.

She cleared her throat and decided to move away from this topic. "So, what movie are we going to watch?"

"Let's check." Harry said and pulled out his mostly neglected smartphone.

"Ooh, is that one of those smartphone thingies?" Tonks asked eagerly and siddled over to sit next to him so that she could look over his shoulder.

"Yes." He confirmed, trying very hard to ignore what her tube top covered breasts were doing to him as they pressed into his back. They really were very perky. "I don't get much use out of it with how much time I spend at Hogwarts, but it's useful during the summer at least."

"I thought about buying one just for the novelty, but the paperwork is really a pain in the arse when you technically don't exist in the Muggle World. Not to mention the hassle of keeping it away from magic." Tonks commented, smirking as she noticed that Harry was sitting a bit too stiffly to be natural. Poke fun at her breasts would he? See how he liked it when her breasts poked at him.

"I guess that would be a problem." He agreed, almost managing to sound like he wasn't distracted. Almost. "Let's see...We've got the usual choices between sappy romance and car chases and explosions, as well as...a...few...Tonks?"

"Yeees?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but do you have two wands in your jacket or are those your nipples poking me?"

"They might be, you said yourself that my breasts are perky."

"Well, it's just that...they feel awfully long to be nipples."

"They're _very_ perky."

"You are an evil woman, Tonks." And Harry meant that with feeling. He'd known that the shapeshifting Auror would be loads of fun, but right now he was getting a serious urge to shag her on the spot. He had no idea how he was going to survive a whole movie feeling like this.

" _I know_." She breathed huskily into his ear and deliberately rubbed her now two inch nipples over his back, having entirely too much fun teasing him.

"So...um...which movie would you like to see?" He asked distractedly.

"You asked me out, so you should decide." She answered in the same husky tone. "Hurry, Harry! Before we _puncture_ the Statute of Secrecy."

Harry groaned. "I thought you hated puns?"

"That's what I wanted you to think."

XXXXX

They left the restaurant shortly after that, with Tonks needing to take a quick side trip to the bathroom to magically repair her stretched out top, as it had not been made with two inch nipples in mind.

The movie was much less eventful than the dinner, with both of them taking a metaphorical step back.

Tonks had been a bit embarrassed at her own forwardness, having not intended to go anywhere near that far. Harry had been much better company than she'd expected him to be and she'd gotten a bit carried away because of it.

Harry had taken the reprieve from her teasing to get his libido under control with some emergency Occlumency. It was harder than he'd expected it to be, as both his body and magic seemed to have gotten used to regular intercourse as a means of dealing with that issue. He suspected that he was going to have a truly epic case of morning wood the next day.

Unless of course he managed to seduce Tonks all the way, but he was honestly not expecting that to happen. She wasn't the type to jump in the sack with him for his money or reputation and he didn't think that she was as easy as Zoe had been either.

Now the movie was over and it was approaching time to go their separate ways.

"I had a good time tonight, even if you did blackmail me into it." Tonks said, opening up the goodbye portion of the date.

"You know you liked my puns better than the paperwork." Harry retorted with a grin.

"That's not saying much, _anything_ is better than paperwork." She shot back.

"Does that mean that you wouldn't be averse to doing this again?" He asked slyly, stepping a bit closer. "You know, just to get your mind off the paperwork."

"I might be open to it, if you agree to lay off the puns." She replied, not moving away despite his obvious intention to kiss her. He'd been a better than average date and certainly deserved it.

"I could do that." Harry agreed and closed in on her lips.

Tonks had assumed that it would be a simple peck on the lips, but Harry was apparently a rather greedy individual as he immediately went for a deep liplock. She might have protested his forwardness if it wasn't for the surge of warmth that suddenly exploded through her body and seemed to crawl slowly down to her groin. It got worse when his hands reached out to squeeze her butt.

Harry was doing more than just kissing her. He was pressing his magic against hers in a manner similar to what he'd done with Fudge, but for an entirely different purpose. Instead of making himself seem more imposing, he was mingling his own desire with that of the woman he was kissing. It was a technique that he'd actually learned from that sex magic guide that Luna had given him, a means of enhancing pleasure by forming a feedback loop between two people. He'd practiced it with Bryanna and Tiana frequently, though in that case it had been used during sex.

The kiss lasted a good deal longer than either intended as they lost themselves in the sensation, but lack of oxygen eventually prevailed and they broke apart.

" _Wow_." Tonks exhaled, breathing hard and staring at him with heavy lidded dark eyes. That hadn't been an inexperienced kiss. Not at all.

Harry smirked at her reaction, more accustomed to it. "Let's do this again. Soon."

"Yeah." Tonks nodded a bit shakily, trying to ignore the throb of arousal in her loins.

Harry waited for a few moments longer, still holding on to the slim hope that she would suggest that they continue this somewhere more comfortable.

Alas, no such luck. "Well...I'll see you later."

Tonks apparated away with that, her mind on finishing this date with an application of Mr. Purple, her favorite, heavily enchanted dildo. She'd put her Hogwarts education to good use after leaving its hallowed halls.

Harry stood there for a while, biting his lip and reflecting on the double edged nature of establishing an emotional feedback loop. His arm was going to be so sore.


	11. Chapter 11

**For those of you who are interested, FF author Umodin has posted a story called "Mixedblood", which he says was inspired by my own writing. It has an OC main character and he's only just started writing it, but give it a peek if you're curious.**

 **Chapter betaed as always by Joe Lawyer.**

XXXXX

"I should go." Remus Lupin said awkwardly.

He'd been about to leave the country when he'd seen the _Prophet_ article that claimed his old friend's innocence. Filled with guilt once again for his lack of faith, he'd decided to stay for a little bit longer to see how things would play out.

Then had come Sirius' letter, asking him to come to Potter Manor and keep an old dog company while he was grounded.

He hadn't been able to refuse.

That had been last night, much of which Sirius and he had spent reminiscing and repairing their friendship. He'd spent the night at his friend's insistence despite feeling like an intruder in Harry's home.

Now it was the morning after and the actual owner of the house was present, but saying nothing and resolutely ignoring the both of them as he ate his breakfast.

"You don't have to." Sirius protested, in a nearly canine sort of whine. "Harry's just being cranky over his failure to seduce my cousin."

Harry shot his godfather a look of contempt, a true teenager look that spoke volumes about how lame what he'd just said was. "Shut up, old man. You haven't been with a woman in over twelve years and you're a product of incest on top of it."

"I'm not old!" Sirius insisted, looking incredibly affronted. "And I'll break my dry spell as soon as I can go out, the birds will love the bad boy ex-con image I'll have going for me and I can't help it if my parents were stupid. You can't go using that argument every time you want to shut me down."

The good natured bickering reminded Remus of James and Sirius during their school days so much that it hurt.

"Hmpf." Was Harry's only reply.

"Is it the creepy pedo mustache that Remus has now that's making you so hostile?" Sirius asked in exasperation. "I'll admit that it bothered me too at first, but you get used to it."

"What?" Remus exclaimed, startled. Then he ran his fingers over his facial hair as if to reassure himself (or perhaps it) that it wasn't a pedo mustache.

"No, it has nothing to do with his pedo mustache." Harry said succintly. "I just don't see any reason why I should like him simply on account of his friendship with my parents." He'd given Sirius a chance and the man had jumped at it. Remus had had all the chances he could've asked for and had spent them feeling sorry for himself. "The only reason he's even here is because you wanted to rehash the good old days with someone."

Remus would have dearly liked to remove himself from this situation, clearly seeing that he was a point of contention between Sirius and Harry, even if it seemed like a mild one. Harry's obvious disapproval of his presence made him want to flee.

He wasn't sure if the fact that Harry didn't care about his werewolf status made that sting more or less.

He was just about to make his excuses and leave when the Potter house elf popped in and handed Harry the day's issue of the _Daily Prophet_.

"You's newspaper, master Harry sir!" Teeny announced.

"Thank you, Teeny." Harry acknowledged, getting a beaming smile from the small house elf before she popped away.

"What does it say?" Sirius asked curiously, seeing the odd expression on Harry's face.

Harry said nothing, merely continued to read for the next couple of minutes before wordlessly handing the newspaper to Sirius.

 ** _The Boy-Who-Killed? Harry Potter avenges the betrayal of his parents by killing their betrayer, Peter Pettigrew._**

 ** _By Rita Skeeter, journalist._**

The large headline was accompanied by an animated picture of Harry walking through the Ministry atrium in the company of Fudge, Dumbledore and the two Aurors. Accompanied by the headline, it could be misconstrued as him being arrested.

 _After yesterday's surprise article portraying a different version of the events that occurred in the final days of the war against You-Know-Who than what has been commonly accepted as truth until now, Harry Potter, aged 13, arrived in the Ministry of Magic to explain himself to the DMLE._

 _He spoke to Amelia Bones, the head of the DMLE, in the company of Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge and Albus Dumbledore, giving more detail to the events first hinted at in yesterday's article._

From then on the article went on to describe a mostly truthful series of facts regarding the altercation between Sirius and Pettigrew after Voldemort's downfall, as well as lambasting Barty Crouch for his overzealous imprisonment of Sirius as well as Pettigrew's twelve years spent as the Weasley's pet rat.

Then things veered somewhat away from the facts and went into sensationalist prose.

 _The Boy-Who-Lived seemed as if he was carved from stone as he emotionlessly recounted taking Pettigrew's life with a blasting curse, only his eyes burning with remembered fury. His choice of spell was perhaps a deliberate bit of irony, as it was with the use of such a spell that Pettigrew faked his death and framed Sirius Black for his crimes._

 _Madam Bones was obviously displeased by the way that the law had been taken into the hands of a private citizen, but Potter immediately followed up his confession with the wands of Peter Pettigrew and that of You-Know-Who himself. After presenting these tokens, his claims of self-defense were accepted and Potter was allowed to go without further issue._

"What the fuck?" Sirius exclaimed. "This can't be a DMLE sanctioned press release! It makes you out to be some kind of vigilante that only walked free because you gave them the Dark Tosser's wand as a bribe."

Remus briefly considered remonstrating Sirius for his use of foul language.

"I don't think it is." Harry agreed. "I've read some of Skeeter's articles before. The bitch is about as toxic as your average League of Legends player and seems to get off on putting the worst possible spin on everything she writes."

Remus realized that it would probably be a bad idea to complain about foul language.

"League of Legends?" Sirius echoed in confusion.

"Nevermind." Harry waved off, having an idle thought of getting his technologically impaired godfather to try video gaming. That would probably be funny to watch.

"You're strangely calm about this." Remus dared to venture.

Harry glanced at him with a frown but decided to answer anyway. "The people whose opinions I care about aren't going to change because of this." That wasn't to say that he was _happy_ about it, but what anger he did feel was contained easily enough by his Occlumency.

"That's a very mature outlook." The werewolf complimented.

Harry's frown deepened, unaccountably irritated at being complimented by someone he disliked.

"But we can't just let this go!" Sirius protested. "We need to prank the hell out of her!"

Harry gave his godfather a flat look. "Pranking? Really? What are you, twelve?" He ignored the minor hypocrisy of his rebuke.

"What else if not pranking?" Sirius near demanded. He knew just as well as Harry that Skeeter wouldn't be facing any legal repercussions because of this. The laws about journalistic integrity in Wizarding Britain had more holes in them than Swiss cheese. The only reliable way of making reporters back off was to do it outside the law.

Harry looked at over at the other Marauder sitting at the table again and this time Remus understood that he had definitely overstayed his welcome. Harry clearly didn't want to talk about this any further in his presence.

"I've got to go." The werewolf said, getting up from the table.

"Remus?" Sirius asked, blinking in surprise at the sudden declaration.

"I'll see you around, Sirius." Remus said, not giving his friend a chance to protest as he left.

"Did you notice anything odd about this article?" Harry asked once the werewolf was gone.

Sirius frowned slightly at his godson, wishing that he wasn't so cold to Remus, but went ahead with the subject change anyway.

"You mean aside from how it insinuates that you're a stone cold killer?"

"Yes, aside from that."

Sirius thought about it and reread it, then it finally dawned on him.

"How could she have known what you were talking about in Bones' office? Fudge doesn't strike me as the type to keep a secret, but this reads as if she was in the room with you."

"I felt strange for that whole meeting." Harry admitted. "I kept getting the nagging feeling that there was another person in the room, but I couldn't pin it down and I had to focus on Bones anyway."

"Invisibility cloak?" Sirius hazarded.

Harry considered it for a moment before shaking his head. "I don't think so. She would've had a hard time not bumping into anyone and I'm pretty sure that my magesight could see a regular invisibility cloak just as well as it can my special one."

Sirius was briefly stumped by that before another idea came to mind, this one even closer to home than the invisibility cloak. "An Animagus form! You could've easily missed it if it was small enough."

They'd already determined that Harry's newly gained sensing ability had more trouble picking out details for Sirius in his dog form and the 'size' of his magic also 'shrunk' to match his body. If Skeeter was small enough in her Animagus form, then detecting her could be problematic even for Harry, especially with Amelia Bones commanding his full attention.

"It's a definite possibility."

"She must not be registered. If she was then she'd never have been able to sneak into the DMLE like that." Sirius said, a slow grin growing on his face.

"And failing to register as an Animagus gets you time in Azkaban." Which Harry's cynical mind identified as more proof of the Ministry's obsession with control. Animagi were notoriously difficult to keep track of in their animal forms. "But we can't be sure if she's really an Animagus."

"What else could it be?" Sirius asked with some exasperation.

"I don't know, but I'd rather not make assumptions only to end up being wrong later." Harry retorted snippily.

XXXXX

Over in the DMLE, Aurors scrambled for cover as their boss stormed through, her nostrils flaring like that of an angry bull.

The second day in a row that the _Daily Prophet_ had posted an inflammatory article. First Potter and Black and then that bitch, Skeeter. Both times kicking dirt on her department as a side-effect.

Amelia Bones wasn't the type to curse out loud, but she was sorely tempted just then. Time and again she had proposed adjustments to the law that would hold reporters to a higher standard, but the decrepit old farts on the Wizengamot shot it down every time.

Well of course they did. It would be hard to use the _Daily Prophet_ as a propaganda tool if they were actually required by law to print only the truth.

Unlike Sirius and Harry, Amelia had been dealing with Skeeter's bullshit for a very long time now and didn't even question how the spiteful reporter had gotten her information. It wouldn't be the first time that she'd conjured up some mixture of fact and fiction that had a vague resemblance to the truth and Fudge couldn't keep a secret to save his life anyway. Half the Ministry had been yammering on about rat Animagi and Voldemort's wand within an hour of him leaving the DMLE.

She had intended to release the full details of what she'd learned in a press release the next day, but now she needed to scramble to do damage control. She might not be overly fond of Potter right now, but she wasn't going to let him be painted as a vengeful killer by that sorry excuse for a reporter.

XXXXX

Several hours later, Skeeter's article changed to include important details that she'd previously left out, such as the fact that Pettigrew had tried to draw his wand first and that Harry didn't simply kill him as revenge for his parents, but the damage had already been done and the general public opinion of Harry Potter was no longer of some kind of messianic figure that could do no wrong.

Harry saw the change in the paper and knew that it wasn't going to fix the damage that the original article had done, but was not overly concerned with the consequences. Yes, he'd learned to make use of his reputation instead of being irritated by it and would have preferred for the knowledge of his killing Pettigrew to be kept as quiet as possible, but he hadn't honestly expected to stay on that same saintly pedestal after this anyway. The reputation of the Boy-Who-Lived had become so inflated that it would never have survived a meeting with reality, it was always going to be something of a one-shot. Granted, Skeeter's poisonous slant probably did more damage than would have happened otherwise, but probably not as much as she'd hoped for.

The DMLE dropped by twice more in the following days to talk to both him and Sirius again, then his godfather was declared a free man. It all seemed rather rushed, for which Harry figured he had Fudge to thank. They'd even dug Sirius' wand out of Azkaban's storage and returned it to him.

That took care of the biggest thing he had to do for the summer, which still left him with the two OWLs he had to pass, figuring out the legal details of the business he was helping Bryanna and Tiana start up, talking to the former managers of the Potter business interests that had since been taken over by the Parkinsons and most recently, another date with Tonks.

He was looking forward to the latter most of all. He hadn't expected to find himself liking the Metamorphmagus Auror to this degree considering his general dislike of the Ministry, but he did. Her naturally cheerful disposition was a stark contrast to his more stoic leanings and he couldn't help but find himself interested. He'd had a similar experience with Zoe, but his muggle friend with benefits had made it clear that she wasn't looking for anything serious and her lack of magic honestly made anything more than their casual arrangement more problematic than he was willing to deal with.

Come to think of it, that might be why he'd gotten along with Sirius so easily too. His godfather somehow managed to be in a good mood most of the time despite his life being best described as 'a field of crap with a few flowers breaking through the shit'. He had to respect the man's determination to enjoy life in spite of everything and the fact that he treated Harry like an adult didn't hurt either.

Harry knew himself to be somewhat frustrating as a friend. He could talk to people yes, but he also liked his alone time and he loathed it when someone tried to tell him how he should live. His early childhood was characterized by the Dursleys hatred, bullying by other children and later having his social interactions scripted out by Robert and Katherine, leaving him with little patience for pushy people.

His short lived friendship with Ginny had fallen apart as much because of her silly crush as it had because she couldn't understand that. Unfair perhaps to expect that kind of thing from a preteen girl, especially when she didn't know the circumstances, but life wasn't fair.

Luna understood though, or maybe that was just how she was. Luna never complained about his penchant for keeping things to himself or his disappearances when he wanted to practice his magic in secrecy, never tried to make him talk about it, never tried to tell him that he should be anything other than himself. Harry considered himself fortunate to have a friend like her, as he strongly suspected that he'd have spent his entire time at Hogwarts alone without her and first year had taught him that he wasn't so anti-social that he could be happy living in constant solitude. Enough to push people away though.

The other students were nice enough, but he simply had trouble relating to them. Even Bryanna and Tiana had only stuck around primarily for the gold and later for the sex, once he'd gotten good enough at it. For all that they were on good terms, he had no doubt that they would have drifted away if their plans for the future didn't hinge on a continued association with him. Harry had gotten very good at keeping people at arm's length without even meaning to.

He found himself hoping that Tonks would be another person that he could manage to really connect with. He wouldn't be surprised if not, but he would be disappointed. She was the first witch aside from Luna that he was looking forward to actually getting to know and not just sleeping with.

XXXXX

"One of the hardest parts of becoming an Animagus is finding your animal form." Sirius was saying. "It will almost certainly be an animal that you share characteristics with, but finding out which ones is the problem. You don't have much of a choice in the matter either and some people don't like what it says about them."

"I imagine that Pettigrew wasn't too pleased with his form." Harry guessed.

"You'd be right about that." Sirius laughed harshly, his resentment of his former friend still clear. "It took him the longest out of all of us to first transform. Since you mentioned Wormtail, there's another thing you should know about becoming an Animagus. It will change you, not in a way that would be instantly obvious, but it will change you. A lot of people that could have become Animagi choose not to because of this, aside from the other dangers that is."

"How did it change you and the others?" Harry asked, very interested in that bit and less so in the dangers. He was sure that Sirius would get around to mentioning those soon enough.

"It's hard to say for sure, but some of the animal instinct carries over. For one thing, I think that both James and I became a bit more vigorous in our pursuit of the ladies after our first transformation."

Harry snorted at the diplomatic phrasing.

Sirius pretended he hadn't heard it. "James also became a good bit more territorial about your mother and went after Snape any time he approached her."

Harry frowned at that, vaguely recalling some information from his non-magical schooling about male deer forming harems instead of mating for life.

"How long did you and my dad go around seducing girls anyway?" He asked.

Sirius looked at him oddly but answered anyway. "James stopped towards the end of sixth year when he started getting a bit desperate to win your mother over. I never stopped."

Ah, so he'd subconsciously been trying to form a harem, but had shaken it off in order to get the one he really wanted. And dogs were of course polygamous, so Sirius' aversion to a dedicated relationship would have only been increased. That fit with a few other distinctly canine characteristics that Harry had noticed about his godfather.

"Alright, how do I find my inner animal?" Harry asked with a smile.

"It should be familiar to you from your Occlumency training and is really the only part of learning how to be an Animagus that is completely safe." Sirius explained. His own Occlumency was crap, only good enough to detect intrusions, but he could see the parallels. "Not the same though. You're not looking to clear your mind and stop thinking this time. You need to sort of sink into your magic and let it show you what your inner animal is. It'll be something that you're familiar with, but don't make any assumptions or you'll throw the whole thing off. Once you manage it, you might get a mental impression or even a vision of being that animal. You'll have to keep doing this until you're absolutely certain which one it is."

A few minutes of instruction later, Sirius left Harry alone to try it.

His Occlumency both helped and hindered him in this, but mostly helped. He was already familiar with meditation and more than aware enough of his own magic to do it, but he had some trouble not blanking out his mind on instinct.

A few hours later, he came back to himself with a gasp, a dazed smile on his face but his mind still on the waking vision he'd just had. Of looking down at the world from the sky and gliding through the air on black feathered wings.

 _Corvus corax_. The common raven. He supposed that his Patronus should have been a hint since he had called the guardian from within himself. He'd already read up on them a bit thanks to that, but he was going to study the species in a lot more detail now.

XXXXX

"Blimey, you know your form already?" Sirius asked with considerable shock when he was told. "Are you _sure_ that you know it? Absolutely sure?"

"Yes." Harry replied, a bit exasperated.

"Don't take that tone with me, young man." Sirius said sternly, but couldn't quite keep a proud grin off his face. "If you rush into this thinking that your animal form is something else than what it really is, you could drive yourself mad or even die. Wouldn't be the first wizard it happened to because they were impatient."

"Like the Marauders?"

"Exactly like us. In retrospect, it's a minor miracle that none of us died or lost our minds."

"I'm still on the fence about your sanity, but I get your point and I'll be careful. I really am sure of my form though."

"That must be some kind of record." Sirius commented, letting the jibe about his sanity go. It wasn't the first time that someone had cast aspersions on it. "It took us months just to get our first success and months more before we could be sure of our forms."

"None of you were Occlumancers." Harry pointed out, not mentioning how his rituals and wandless practice had left uniquely him aware of his own magic. "And you were younger than me when you started, not to mention less amazing. Did you know that ravens are among the most intelligent animals alive?"

"Ha bloody ha." Sirius deadpanned.

"So, what now?"

"You'll need to, for lack of a better term, turn yourself inside out."

"You mean like...become an animal with an inner wizard instead of a wizard with an inner animal?"

"That's it exactly. Your human mind is obviously a lot stronger than an animal's instinct, so you'll retain most of your rationality."

"Most?"

"You might get some odd urges on occassion."

"Sirius, does the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black have canine heirs wandering the world?"

"Piss off, Harry."

"I'm sorry." The younger wizard apologized, not sounding very sorry at all. "What else do I have to do?"

"In the old days, wizards would spend years or even decades observing the animal they were trying to turn into, to become as familiar with them as possible. You'll still need to do that, but thanks to the wonders of the modern age, you can get most of the needed information from a book."

"Who needs books when you have Wikipedia?"

"What's a Wikipedia?"

"I'll show you later." Harry was also wondering if watching YouTube videos of ravens counted as observation. He couldn't see any reasons why it wouldn't, but it might be best to find some wild ravens just to be on the safe side.

"Right." Sirius said with a nod, having no clue whatsoever what his godson was talking about. Probably some muggle thing. He'd considered himself quite knowledgeable on the Muggle World at one point, but he was waking up to the fact that it had become nigh on unrecognizable since the last time he'd ventured into it. The basics were still the same of course, but a lot of the things that Harry sometimes mentioned as if they were common knowledge flew right over his head.

XXXXX

With Sirius now being a free man, an opportunity presented itself to do something that Harry had wanted to do for some time.

"Do we really have to do this?" Sirius whined.

"Yes." Harry stated firmly.

"Couldn't we just burn it instead?" Sirius asked hopefully.

"No."

"But-!"

"Sirius, we are going into that house. If you hate it that much, we can sell it _after_ we pilfer everything of worth from it."

"Not burn it?"

"If you want to set it on fire that much, then sell it to Malfoy first. Or Parkinson. Actually no, that's probably a bad idea even if we torch the place right after."

Sirius sighed the sigh of the resigned. "Alright, let's get this over with."

With heavy steps, the dog Animagus walked towards the front door of Nr. 12 Grimmauld Place.

Harry looked around curiously as they entered. The large townhouse was smaller than Potter Manor and the hallways more narrow. In fact, the whole place gave off an oppresive feeling of gloom. According to Dorea, the Blacks had once had a manor house in the country as well, but for reasons unknown, one of the past Lords Black had torn it down and appropriated this place from its previous non-magical residents. And by appropriated, Dorea had meant stolen.

They didn't get far before they were accosted by a portrait of woman that looked as if she had spent her entire life sucking on lemons.

"Ah, so the prodigal son returns." She said, trying to look superior but only managing constipation in Harry's humble opinion. "And who is this you've brought with you? What family is he from?"

"What's with the friendly attitude, _mum_?" Sirius asked bluntly, packing a lot of scorn into the last word. "Last time I saw you, you were shrieking at my grandfather to cast me out of the family."

"I heard that you've learned the error of your ways since then, turning your back on that blood traitor Potter and his filthy mudblood wife and leading the Dark Lord to them." Sirius' mother answered, her demeanor darkening slightly at the disrespect.

"I hate to disappoint you," Sirius began sarcastically. "but I was framed. I've just been cleared of all charges and am once again known as a muggle loving blood traitor to the world at large."

Could paintings have aneurysms? Harry felt sure that Sirius mother had just had one.

"YOU FILTH! HOW DARE YOU RETURN TO SULLY THIS HOUSE! KREACHER! KREACHER!"

Ye gods, he'd thought that Sirius had been exaggerating when he'd described his mother. No such luck though. If anything, the man had somehow managed to understate it despite making her out to be the most horrid woman in the world.

"No wonder you wanted to burn the place down." Harry commented as the portrait of Walburga Black went on a shireking diatribe about...something. It wasn't very coherent, but it did involve a lot of screaming about blood traitors and mudbloods.

Sirius' potential reply was cut off when a decrepit looking house elf popped in, glaring at them with a viciousness that Harry had honestly not thought the little creatures capable of.

"Filthy blood traitor master has come back." Kreacher said scornfully, barely heard over the portrait's continued yelling. "Kreacher will throw you out."

"No, you won't" Sirius said flatly. "I own this house now."

"FILTH! SHAME TO THE FAMILY!"

Kreacher's face twisted with fury as the truth of the words sank in. The wards had already transferred to Sirius, so he would now have to obey the master that he hated.

"First, I want you to take that _thing_ 's portrait down and burn it." Sirius went on contemptously, much to the increased rage of his mother.

"Kreacher cannot." The house elf said gleefully. "Mistress is permanently stuck to wall."

"Then take down the wall." Sirius growled.

"GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!"

"If Kreacher did that, the house would collapse. Stupid master." Kreacher sneered.

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation at the situation, starting to develop a headache from the portrait's screaming.

"Can you brick her up then?" He asked. He wasn't at all convinced that the Sticking Charm couldn't be dismantled, but it would be quite a feat to concentrate on doing that with the painted harpy's constant yelling

Kreacher's mouth snapped shut and he glared at Harry mutinously, refusing to answer.

"Answer him!" Sirius snapped.

"Yeeeees." Kreacher growled unwillingly through clenched teeth.

"Then do it." Sirius ordered, now grinning at having a solution to the problem.

"Kreacher has no bricks." The house elf said sullenly.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll get you all the bricks you'll need."

"DISHONOR! DISHONOR ON THE FAMILY!"

XXXXX

"Lovely woman, your mother." Harry commented as they walked towards the library.

"Isn't she just?" Sirius asked sarcastically. "I'd almost forgotten the pounding headache that her diatribes gave me."

"What's with the house elf though?"

"Kreacher? He's always been a spiteful little bastard, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. He's never been allowed to leave Grimmauld Place and had nothing to listen to except my family's rants on blood purity."

"A bigoted house elf, now I've seen everything." Harry said with amusement as they entered the library.

"Speaking of seeing everything, are you sure you should be looking at some of these books?" Sirius asked nervously. He was not at all sanguine about his godson reading up on some of the stuff he knew was in there.

"You worry too much, Sirius." Harry waved off. "I've got no interest in sacrificing virgins or performing divination from someone's spilled intestines. I'm much more interested in the theory than the practical applications."

"You know, by all rights I should be forbidding you from coming anywhere near these books until I've had a chance to throw out the worst of them." Sirius commented wryly.

"But you won't because you're the best godfather ever."

"And you'd be pissy about it if I did."

"Knowledge is neither good nor evil, so yes, I would indeed be pissy if you discarded it."

"Fine." Sirius said, tossing his hands skyward. "I'll go find Kreacher some bricks, thanks for that idea by the way, and you can browse the books. Just avoid the cursed ones."

"Who curses their own books anyway?" Harry suddenly asked. "That sounds like a spectacularly bad idea."

"I told you that my family was nuts." Sirius shrugged.

Harry was left alone after that, Sirius trusting that Harry's magesight and caution would keep him from running afoul the cursed books. He simply browsed the titles for a while, waiting for something to catch his eye.

Not all of the tomes were filled with morally(and no doubt legally) dubious magic, quite a few of them he'd actually already encountered in either Hogwarts or Potter Manor. He wasn't interested in those though. He would never have a proper understanding of magic if he confined himself only to comfortable topics.

Ten minutes of browsing later, he'd found a tome that detailed the process of using the ritualistic sacrifice of other wizards, witches or powerful magical creatures to power large scale spells, wards or other magics. It was grim and sometimes downright ghastly reading, but it was also very interesting.

XXXXX

"This is the best side of my mother that I've ever seen." Sirius said proudly, looking at the brand new brick wall sitting incongruously in the hallway. From behind it, only blessed silence could be heard, which was only natural since it was enchanted to block sound from going in either direction.

"You're a real son of a bitch, Sirius." Harry noted, book on morally reprehensible magic in hand.

"I know, I've even got the right initals. Sirius Orion Black, also known as Son Of a Bitch."

"Bad master insulting mistress." Kreacher complained, much subdued due to the moral quandary of being forced to brick up his beloved mistress.

"You think that's bad, just wait until we start looting the place." Harry replied blandly. He generally did his best to be polite to house elves, but Kreacher was quite simply a pain in the ass.

"NO! Kreacher will not let you!" The house elf shrieked, getting ready to fight in defense of House Black.

"Yes you will." Sirius countermanded, more than happy to allow his godson to ransack the family home if he wanted to. He was already intending to designate him the Heir to House Black, so it would all be his eventually anyway. "Now go away."

Kreacher stalked off as ordered, bemoaning the ill fortune that had befallen House Black now that it had a blood traitor as its Lord.

XXXXX

"Hello, what's this?" Harry said softly, staring at a heavy looking golden locket inlaid with emeralds in a serpentine pattern.

The locket felt very similar to how he remembered the soul shard in his head feeling, and there was a seductive whisper of a powerful and subtle compulsion reaching out from it as well.

This was, to put it bluntly, Bad. Capitalized. Not so much the item itself as the implications of it.

"Strange, I don't remember seeing that one before." Sirius said, also staring at the locket. The compulsion was trying to grab hold of him just as much as it tried for Harry, but Sirius knew perfectly well how dangerous it was to touch unknown objects in Grimmauld Place.

"I think it belonged to Voldemort." Harry said, grabbing his wand and transfiguring a nearby item into a long metal pole with a hook on one end.

Sirius started in surprise, staring at his godson. "You're sure?"

"Pretty sure. It has the same feel to it as the thing I pushed out during my last ritual." Harry confirmed and gave the pole to Sirius.

"What are you thinking, Harry?" Sirius asked warily.

"I'm thinking that if Voldie is going to be handing out pieces of his soul like candy, then who am I to refuse such a gift?" Harry said wryly.

"This isn't something you should be playing with." Sirius said sharply.

"Don't get your panties in a wad, I know that it's dangerous." Harry retorted. "But you're missing the point. That thing is some kind of phylactery, which means that the Dark Moron is still not fully dead. I thought that the thing inside me was some kind of fluke, but this is the third one I've come across and I'm starting to suspect that it isn't going to be the last."

"So how do we destroy it?" Sirius asked, eager to get rid of it.

"Basilisk venom did the trick last time and I do have some in stock, but we're not going to destroy it."

"What do you mean 'we're not going to destroy it'?" Sirius demanded. "What _possible_ use could you have for a piece of Voldemort's soul?"

"At the moment? None. But I find it hard to believe that I won't be able to do anything at all with it, there is just no way that having a piece of your soul in enemy hands could be a good idea. Now use that pole I gave you and let's drop that thing into my Bag of Holding."

"I still don't understand why you insist on calling your Mokeskin Pouch by that silly name."

"And I still haven't learned what the bloody hell a moke is. At least 'Bag of Holding' is a descriptive name."

"Don't try to distract me with your logic, it doesn't work on wizards. I still say we should destroy it right away."

"Damnit, Sirius, I have no desire whatsoever to end up being a prophesized Chosen One destined to beat Voldemort because some cracked Seer made a prophecy fourteen years ago. I might be able to use this thing to track down any others before the Dark Moron manages to crawl his way back to life and starts causing problems again. He's going to be in one hell of a snit over having his world domination scheme threatened and then fouled up by a baby and I'd really rather not deal with that."

"Well, when you put it that way..."

By the time that Kreacher returned to Grimmauld Place, the locket that Regulus had entrusted him with was long since gone. There was much house elven wailing and gnashing of teeth as a result.

XXXXX

Staring at the locket that had so abruptly made his life an order of magnitude more complicated, Harry scowled.

He'd thought that Voldemort was dead and gone in second year when his diary was destroyed, because he'd asumed that it had been like a D&D phylactery and held the entire soul. Then he'd learned that a soul could break and found another piece of Voldemort inside of him, but he'd still thought that it must have been some kind of freak occurence as a result of his mother's sacrifice.

Now he had a third and was no longer willing to assume it was the last. That fucking prophecy was really trying to turn his life into some kind of big dramatic struggle against the forces of evil. He just wanted to learn magic and see what things were like outside of Europe, maybe with some particular female company along for the ride. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently so, because Dumbledore's interest in him and his subtly manipulative actions were finally making some sense in light of the fact that Voldemort was still out there somewhere. The old man was trying to play the Secretive-As-Fuck-But-Trust-Me-Because-I'm-The-Wise-Mentor angle to his Chosen Champion. He'd probably get himself dramatically killed halfway through it too, leaving the half-prepared protagonist, in this case Harry himself, to clean up his mess. That seemed to be the norm in these situations anyway.

Dumbledore was seriously trying to pull an Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Well bugger that. No way was Harry letting some old fart that thought he knew best dictate his life.

This locket might be the key to finding what other soul anchors Voldemort had and destroying them before he could come back. He certainly didn't want to deal with a fully restored and probably very pissed off Dark Lord.

Of course, the problem here was that Harry's knowledge about souls was very limited. Judging by his own experiences, souls became damaged by sufficiently traumatic events and healed over time. His rage driven murder of Pettigrew had damaged him and that damage had repaired itself to a degree as time passed, but never back to the unblemished state it had been in before.

How that translated to creating a phylactery, he had no idea. Harry suspected that he would need that knowledge before he achieved anything. He would still see what he could find out without it, but like the diary, the locket seemed to have some kind of sentience, which made it dangerous to be around. He was not interested in being possessed.

He wouldn't be getting anything more done today in any case. His much anticipated second date with Tonks was approaching and he wasn't going to reschedule it simply because he'd just found out that Voldemort was still not-dead. The locket could wait a little longer.

XXXXX

This time it was Harry who found himself arriving to the designated meeting spot early. He'd gotten impatient and apparated out of the manor almost half an hour too soon, much to Sirius' poorly concealed amusement.

There was no helping it though, he'd simply been too eager and too nervous. The first date that he'd badgered the shapeshifting Auror into had no real expectations attached to it, but he'd developed a genuine liking for Tonks that had nothing to do with her good looks and the potential sex games that her special talent would allow.

All of his forays into intimacy with females so far had involved very little in the way of an actual emotional connection(aside from lust), which made this nerve wracking in a whole new way. He was acutely aware of the age discrepancy between him and Tonks and didn't want her to back off because of it, which meant that he couldn't give her any reason to think that she should. The Wizarding World might have a strange 'if-I-don't-think-about-it-then-it's-not-a-problem' mentality in regards to quite a few things, including age, but that would only go so far. This was even more of an issue with Tonks because she was not only part of the DMLE's elite law enforcement corps and had a reputation to maintain, but also because her father was a muggleborn and likely had some pretty strong opinions about certain wizarding practices. He knew that she'd enjoyed their first date, but she would probably break it off if it gave her issues at work or in her family.

Harry was not really the sort to develop silly crushes for no reason and his early forays into sexuality had only made it more unlikely, but he was just as vulnerable to falling prey to his own interests as anyone else. Thus, he had plotted out a plan of attack for getting Tonks to return that interest as quickly and as surely as possible, all the while avoiding any pitfalls that might cause her to decide that he was more trouble than he was worth. This had all happened without him really intending to be so calculating about it...it had just sort of happened while he was laying in bed.

A smile came to his face when Tonks eventually arrived. She was dressed similarly to the last time, the only notable differences being that this time she had a purple tank top and pink hair. And a bra. She hadn't worn one the last time. That probably meant that she wasn't going to poke him with her extendable nipples again. Too bad.

"Wotcher." She greeted with her usual good cheer. "Been waiting long?"

"Not at all, I just got here." Harry lied courteously. There was literally no benefit to telling her that he'd been standing here for half an hour already. "So, where are we going? You were pretty vague about that." It had been decided that she would pick the venue this time.

"You'll see." She said vaguely. "Just take my hand, grasshopper, and I'll show you."

"That was a horrible misquote." Harry complained, but took her hand anyway.

"Ah shut up, you haven't seen the movie it came from any more than I have." Tonks retorted.

"That's not the point. The point is that you mangled a perfectly good quote." Harry insisted.

Neither one was aware that the original quote was not actually from a movie.

Tonks didn't deign to respond and simply apparated them to the destination.

Harry stared in bemusement at what he presumed was their destination, the apparition having deposited them in a secluded spot some ways of. "An amusement park? We're going to an amusement park?"

"Yes." Tonks said firmly. "And if you don't like amusement parks, then tough, because we're still going."

"I have no strong feelings one way or the other in regards to amusement parks." Harry droned blandly. "I've never been to one."

"What do you mean you've never been to one?" She demanded, scandalized. "Didn't you say that your foster parents are muggle and rich? What kind of people are they that they wouldn't take you to an amusement park at least once?"

"I can already imagine their response to the idea." Harry replied wryly and then adopted a snobbish air. "Why would you want to go to one of these... _things_? Amusement parks are the pastime of the unwashed masses."

Tonks laughed at the impression, but inwardly felt a bit sorry for him. That sounded kind of similar to the stories that her mother had told her about growing up in the Black family, minus the rants on mudbloods and blood purity.

"Well then I guess it's up to me to show you the ropes." She said decisively, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the noisy and brightly lit area.

"I place myself in your capable hands." It wasn't something that he would have chosen to do by himself, nor did he think that he'd like the crowds and the noise, but the overall experience should be fun as long as she was there.

XXXXX

While Tonks was showing Harry the proper way to experience an amusement park, Sirius and Remus were having a more somber get-together in the Hog's Head. Sirius had wanted to go to the Three Broomsticks and maybe flirt with Rosmerta for old time's sake, but Remus had been reluctant to go there so quickly after having his werewolf status made known to the general public. Sirius had agreed after seeing the looks aimed not only at his friend but also at him. Apparently getting cleared by the DMLE wasn't enough to fully erase twelve years of everyone thinking that he was a notorious mass murderer.

"Don't worry about it, Remus, I'm sure Harry will warm up to you soon enough." The dog Animagus was saying.

Remus sighed at his friend's unwarranted optimism. "No, Sirius, I don't think he will. I don't blame him for it either. I certainly wouldn't be too fond of me if I was in his shoes."

"You're being too hard on yourself." Sirius chided. Remus had always been prone to brooding.

Remus withheld a grimace. If only that were true, but he knew that Harry was fully justified to dislike him. He'd acted like nothing more than a distant acquaintance of James and Lily and now he was being treated like one. No more than he deserved really, but Sirius was clearly having trouble understanding it, mired as he was in nostalgia.

"So what is Harry up to now?" He asked. He had no more hope of establishing a close relationship with the son of his dead friends, but he could still ask about him.

"He's on a date with Andromeda's girl." Sirius chuckled. "Precocious little scamp is better than James or I ever were at getting a girl to agree to a date. We were on Madam Bones' shit list but he goes right up to one of her Aurors and asks her out."

Remus didn't really know Andromeda Tonks, having only mer her once and rather briefly at that. She had been sympathetic to the Order during the war with Voldemort, but not a member. He did remember a cute Metamorphmagus daughter that had scowled when she'd been introduced by her given name though.

"Isn't she in her twenties?" He inquired carefully. That meeting had been quite some time before Harry's birth.

"So?" Sirius shrugged.

Remus let it go. He didn't think it was very appropriate for a full grown woman to be going on dates with a boy Harry's age, but he knew that his opinion wouldn't be welcome. James and Sirius had gleefully taken advantage of the Wizarding World's laxity about age appropriate relationships.

"I was more interested in how his studies are going." He said instead.

"Good, great even. He's a smart kid and loves learning magic." Sirius made no mention of Harry's extra-curricular study. He felt that Remus could be trusted with the information, but Harry didn't and there was no denying that it would be bad if it got out that the Boy-Who-Lived was looking into dark magic. Sirius trusted Harry not to go off the deep end, but the rest of the sheep or the Ministry wouldn't be so reasonable.

His godson's cynicism was rubbing off on him.

They went into safer areas of conversation after that. Their friendship was still in some need of repair before it would be back to the state it had been in during their Hogwarts days.

XXXXX

"Heh, I never would have figured you for an adrenaline junkie." Tonks said with a wry grin.

Sitting next to her on a bench with one arm around her shoulders, Harry smirked back. "I may not like Quidditch, but I have always liked flying." He wondered if that had anything to do with his Animagus form. "Were you hoping that some of those rides would scare me?"

"Yes." Tonks pouted. "I wanted to hear high pitched screams of terror, but all I got was laughter."

"So sorry to have disappointed you, Dora." He replied with amusement.

"Dora?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"It seemed weird to be calling you by your last name all the time." Harry shrugged.

Tonks gave it some thought before nodding. She could deal with being called Dora. The first part of her name was much more objectionable. "Alright, you can call me Dora."

"You're so kind." He said faux demurely.

They lapsed into a short silence, which Harry spent slowly mingling his magic with hers. She was a powerful witch and an interesting person. He felt as if he could spend days just doing this without a word being spoken and still know her better at the end of it than any amount of conversation would allow.

She shifted a bit and pressed closer to him with a content exhale of air. Harry's lips twitched into a smile.

He'd only tried this with Bryanna and Tiana post coitus before, and with Luna in their quieter moments when they just sat together. It was a shame that magicals had either forgotten or never learned how to properly do this. As far as being comfortable with other people went, he doubted that there was anything that could beat it.

Of course, he doubted that it would work with anyone that you didn't already like, but there wasn't any reason to be doing this with someone you didn't like anyway.

The very comfortable atmosphere was broken by the text message alert on his phone, causing Harry to huff with some irritation at the interruption. Dora's presence had tensed slightly at the noise, but not enough to expel him.

"What was that?" She asked curiously.

"Probably either Robert or Katherine being annoying." He grumbled and awkwardly pulled the phone out of his pocket, unwilling to let go of his date's shoulder.

As it turned out, the message was not from either of his foster parents, but from Zoe.

"Want 2 cum over?" Tonks read, amusement coloring her tone, but her magic snapping out of its relaxed state into something much sharper. The gentle empathic connection he'd created broke and even her hair darkened slightly towards red.

Harry winced. He hadn't contacted Zoe at all this summer, either because he'd been too busy or because he was more interested in his current date. Apparently she was feeling randy and had decided to take the initiative. Usually something he wouldn't have hesitated to take advantage of, but it was damned inconvenient right now.

"Zoe is a muggle girl I met last summer." He started explaining. "We have a 'friends with benefits' sort of arrangement."

"I see." She said neutrally. "You going to take her up on it?"

"Of course not." Harry denied instantly. Zoe might be pretty, fun and a simple way of relieving tension over the summer, but that was all she was. She might have been more if the circumstances were different, but they weren't. "That's only if both of us are single."

He conveniently ignored that Zoe had technically not been single last year and probably wasn't this one either. That was her problem.

Tonks gave him a scrutinizing look for a few moments, thinking about it. She couldn't honestly be upset about something that had happened before they'd even met. Realistically speaking, she probably had little enough business getting upset even if he did decide to boff this 'friend with benefits' of his, seeing as this was barely their second date.

She was still feeling a bit territorial though. Yes, getting romantically involved with the Boy-Who-Lived would no doubt bring up quite a few problems from both her job and her parents(or her father at any rate), but damnit, she _liked_ him. She hadn't had a decent boyfriend since that little adventure with Charlie Weasley in seventh year and that was just sad considering the fact that he would have probably liked her better if she had scales and breathed fire, literally.

Harry was young, very young. Far younger than she would have been willing to look for potential boyfriends under most circumstances. If he hadn't gone after her first, she would never have even considered it. Men tended to be immature enough even when they were older than her.

But he didn't look or act his age and the pickings were slim enough that she was willing to go along with it despite her misgivings. She'd been planning to just let things progress as they would and see what happened, but it looked like she was going to need to stake a claim. A twenty-one year old woman of her good looks, personality and talents should not be having such an abyssmal social life and she wasn't letting perfectly good boyfriend material get away simply because he was a bit on the young side. She might have been more hesitant if he'd been completely green, but that message and his explanation made it clear that he'd been sexually active for at least a year already. Though now that she thought about it, she probably should have guessed as much on their first date to begin with.

"Oh? Does that mean that you consider yourself spoken for?" She challenged, pretending that she hadn't just spent the past few seconds making him sweat with her stare.

"I did place myself into your hands." Harry reminded her, nervousness dissipating as he felt her magic settle down a bit.

"That's true." The Metamorphmagus conceded. "I wonder what I should do now that I have you in my hands?"

"Please be gentle." He quipped.

She surprised him by pulling herself over until she was straddling his lap and leaning in to whisper into his ear. "But what if I don't want to be gentle?"

Harry shivered slightly, both at the feel of her breath tickling his ear and in arousal at having her so close. His hands reached out to grab her hips almost by themselves, just as his magic reached towards hers reflexively.

"I might have to lodge a complaint about Auror brutality." He countered, squeezing her hips and leaning forward to kiss her.

Tonks didn't bother to reply, instead just kissing him and groaning in pleasure as she felt the same heat spreading through her as she'd felt at their first kiss. She felt the bulge of his erection pressing up against her in short order and decided to grind her butt against it more firmly.

This time it was Harry who groaned. Maybe it hadn't been such a great idea to torture himself with a magical feedback loop again?

 _Ah screw it._

With that resolution, he pressed his hand to the small of her back and pressed down, bringing her even closer and sending a stream of stimulating magic into her nerves. He felt her shudder at the invading magic, but instead of rejecting it, the intensity of her kiss only increased.

"You go, girl!" A drunken sound of female enthusiasm came, causing Tonks to jerk out of the kiss.

Both of them breathing heavily, they looked around for the source of the yell and quickly noticed a group of tipsy looking teenagers giving them a thumbs up.

Bemused and not sure what else to do, Harry returned the thumbs up despite being a bit annoyed by the interruption.

"Still want to lodge a complaint about Auror brutality?" Tonks asked when the giggly group of teens moved on.

"You can brutalize me anytime." Harry smirked, still gently rubbing his fingers into the small of her back.

"Now there's a tempting offer, but the paperwork would be horrible." She sighed and slid back into place next to him, much to Harry's disappointment.

"That bad?" He asked, going along with the subject change into cooler waters even though he wanted nothing more than to get her in bed right now.

"You have no idea." She groaned dramatically. "I thought being an Auror was going to be all about action and catching the bad guys, but I spend most of my days filing reports for inappropriate prank spells or illegal Portkeys or something."

"That's what you get for selling your soul to the Black Order of Bureaucracy." Harry said unsympathetically.

Tonks burst out laughing at his name for the Ministry, which she had to admit was appropriate at times. "Not going to get a Ministry job when you graduate then?"

"Not a chance." Harry snorted.

"What _are_ you going to do then?" She asked curiously.

"I was thinking of travelling a bit and seeing the world." He admitted.

"That sounds nice."

There was a moment of silence and Harry was seized by the sudden urge to ask her to quit her job and come with him. He wasn't that impulsive though and abandoned the idea as being premature. He could always ask later, once they knew each other better, which was something that he had high hopes for.

"Aren't Aurors the DMLE's elite though?" He asked instead, backtracking a bit. "Shouldn't the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol be dealing with all that small stuff?"

"They do." Tonks grumbled. "Thing is, Bones doesn't get along too well with Fudge or his backers and our esteemed Minister is worried that she wants to replace him, so any time that the Ministry needs to make a budget cut, we're the ones who take the hit."

"And now the DMLE is so understaffed and underfunded that even Aurors have to deal with the small stuff." Harry finished.

"That's about the size of it." Tonks confirmed. "And speaking of work, I should probably go home. I've got the morning shift tomorrow."

"And I've got my Ancient Runes OWL." Harry added, easily hiding his diappointment that the date was over. On the upside, he had the sense that his relationship with the pretty Metamorphmagus had now gone beyond that 'maybe/maybe not' stage where nobody could say whether they were together or not. "Want me to come visit while I'm there?"

"Might be better if you didn't." Tonks admitted. "Bones and Scrimgeour aren't too fond of personal visits during work hours."

"Alright." Harry consented easily. "But only if you agree to go on another date with me."

"So that's how it is? I go out with you or you'll get me in trouble with the boss?" Tonks asked teasingly, inwardly very relieved that he was being mature about the no visits thing while she was working. A couple of her past attempts at a relationship had gotten a bit shirty about that, though in that case it had still been training rather than working. Moody had been even less tolerant of 'emotional hogwash' getting in the way of CONSTANT VIGILANCE.

"Damn straight." Harry confirmed. "If you don't agree, you might find me paying the DMLE another visit and lurking over your shoulder while you try to do paperwork."

"I guess I've got no choice then." Tonks sighed theatrically. "With you twisting my arm like that, i'll just have to put up with you for a bit longer."

"You'll get used to me." Harry chuckled and leaned over to steal another kiss.

Though a bit surprised, she quickly started to respond and almost gave in to the urge to climb back into his lap by the time they broke apart.

"I should go." She said softly, biting her lower lip as she stared into his bright green eyes.

Harry nodded and escorted her to a secluded spot that she could apparate away from.

"I'll be in touch." He said once they arrived and gave in to the urge to give her lips another quick peck. "Goodnight, Dora."

"Goodnight, Harry."

Harry stared wistfully at the empty spot where she'd been standing just a moment ago.

"Nice going Potter, first you decide to avoid serious relationships and then barely a week later you get infatuated with an Auror that will probably be obligated to arrest you if she finds out about some of the things you're doing." He muttered to himself. "That's pure genius right there."

Sighing, he pulled out his phone again and stared at the message from Zoe. As had happened on the last date with the Metamorphmagus, he was horny as hell. Unlike the last time, he had a girl that would be more than willing to help him with that.

Instead of accepting, he sent her a reply to let her know that he wasn't going to be available for any more fun in the foreseeable future. Getting into a relationship with Tonks was dangerous beyond doubt, but then again, he had developed a bad habit of doing dangerous things ever since he'd entered the Wizarding World.

XXXXX

Appearing inside her flat, Tonks let out a deep breath and began pulling off her clothes in preparation for a shower.

She'd very nearly invited Harry to come with her back there, seven years younger than her or not. It was sometimes hard to remember his age when he didn't look or react like a boy in his early teens. It didn't help that she felt so comfortable with him or that his kisses made her want to stick her hands down his pants.

She had seen the same desire in his face plain as day and if he kept being so damned attractive, she might just have to do exactly that. She'd never been particularly uncomfortable with her sexuality anyway, even if she didn't drop her knickers on the first date.

But for now, Mr. Purple would be pressed back into service.

XXXXX

 **A bit of a transitional chapter here, but there was no avoiding it. A lot of plot points converged on this point in time, so it'll take another chapter or two before I'm done writing about this summer.**


	12. Chapter 12

**I was in a typing mood these past few days, so this chapter came out sooner than usual. Enjoy.**

 **Full beta credits to Joe Lawyer for his help in polishing up these chapters.**

XXXXX

"How did your exam go?" Sirius asked once Harry got back from the Ministry.

"Easier than I expected. Professor Babbling must have really wanted me to get an Outstanding, because I was overprepared." Harry replied. Of course, thanks to _Da'Roir_ and his constant Occlumency practice, his memory was damn near eidetic these days, so that had probably played a part too.

"Your parents would have been so proud." Sirius stated with a big grin. "Not only are you a suave ladies man, but you're also a bookworm."

"Somehow I get the feeling that my mother wouldn't have been too happy about a lot of the things that dad would have been."

Sirius snorted. "You got that right, but teenagers are supposed to be rebellious anyway."

Harry nodded and changed the subject. "I'm going back to Grimmauld Place tomorrow."

"Did you already finish that book you took?"

"Of course not, that thing is huge." Harry refuted. "I just figure that I might as well start relocating the library and any other interesting bits so that I won't have to keep going over there all the time."

Despite Sirius' hatred of Grimmauld Place and the jokes he'd made made on their first visit, he had no intention of either selling it or destroying it. He wouldn't live there and planned to empty it of everything that had some worth, but he would keep it around. If nothing else, it would make for a good hidey hole and fallback location if it was ever needed as such and Teeny would be happy with the extra work of of maintaining it. He still had trouble wrapping his mind around the idea that more work made house elves happy, but he supposed that he didn't have to understand it as long as it made the helpful little creature happy.

"Want me to come with you?" Sirius asked, as if they weren't dicussing what was essentially the robbery of the ancestral home of his family.

"If you want." Harry shrugged. "You might be able to identify some of the cursed objects, but it's not neccessary."

"Why do you want those anyway?"

"Practice."

"Practice?"

"Unraveling the spells on cursed or enchanted items is a great way of learning how to apply them."

"Errr, Harry, you _do_ know that it's usually the job of Curse-Breakers with years of training to do that kind of stuff?"

"What's your point?"

"You're not a trained Curse-Breaker."

"So?"

"I really wish you'd get some safer hobbies, Harry."

"It's not like I'm going to blunder about blindly, I'm not a Gryffindor."

"That was low."

XXXXX

Sirius decided to come along for the looting expedition, having nothing better to do anyway.

With them was also Teeny, levitating three chests behind her; one for books, one for cursed objects and one for regular stuff.

They'd barely started cleaning out the library when Kreacher showed up, worked up into a proper house elven hissy fit.

"Where is it?!" The demented little elf screeched.

Sirius looked bewildered, but Harry instantly guessed what Kreacher meant.

"You wouldn't happen to be talking about a heavy golden locket with a piece of Voldemort's soul stuck in it, would you?" He asked.

Teeny gasped at the utterance of the Dark Lord's name. Kreacher snapped his mouth shut and glared.

"Kreacher, what do you know about that locket? How did it end up in this house?" Harry pressed.

The house elf stayed mulishly silent.

"Answer him!" Sirius snapped angrily.

And so Kreacher started talking, resentfully and unwillingly at first, but soon becoming overwhelmed with emotion as he began to describe the sacrifice that Regulus had made.

When the tale was done, Sirius had gone very pale. "I had no idea. I thought that Reggie tried to back out and got killed by the other Death Eaters."

"Master Regulus was brave and kind!" Kreacher asserted fiercely. "Kreacher wants the locket back! Kreacher promised to destroy it!"

"Kreacher, the locket isn't the only one of those items." Harry said carefully.

The house elf was visibly shocked by this. "Bu-but master Regulus said that if Kreacher destroyed it, the Dark Lord would be defeated."

"He made more than one. I've already destroyed two and we have no way of knowing how many were made." Harry told him.

"You know how to destroy them?" Kreacher asked with desperate hope, latching on to the part that was most important to him. "Kreacher tried and tried, but nothing he did would damage it. Kreacher couldn't fulfill master Regulus' last order."

Harry knew that the house elf desperately wanted to fulfill that order, but the locket was simply too valuable to destroy right now. "I can, but first I need to see if I can use it to locate any others. It won't do us any good to destroy one only for there to be more."

Fortunately, house elves were perfectly capable of seeing reason. "Kreacher understands." He said despondently.

Harry then kneeled on the floor so that he was more level with the small being and spoke in a softer tone. "Kreacher, did Regulus leave behind anything that might help us destroy all these things? Voldemort is still out there and it's only a matter of time before he comes back unless we find them all."

"Filthy halfblood won't steal it?" Kreacher asked dubiously, having no idea what to think of this wizard that had lowered himself to a house elf's level.

"Kreacher." Sirius interjected with a sigh at the house elf's seemingly reflexive bigotry. "Harry is going to inherit the Black family, so everything will belong to him anyway. I've certainly got no intention of fathering any heirs of my own."

Kreacher's ears drooped a bit, obviously upset by that. He'd served the Black family for decades and didn't want to see it go extinct, but he considered Regulus' last wishes to be more important.

"Kreacher will bring it."

The house elf popped away and returned a minute later, holding a book with a black and purple cover.

' _Secrets of the Darkest Art_ ' the title read, and Harry knew instantly that he would find what he was looking for in it.

"Master Regulus read this book and told Kreacher to hide it before going to the cave, so Kreacher hid it." The house elf explained.

"I've never seen that book before." Sirius commented, looking at it warily.

"Master Regulus stole it from the Lord's private study." Kreacher explained with a mutter.

Sirius blinked. "Huh, that was ballsy of Reg. Gramps wouldn't have been happy about that."

"Master Arcturus was not." Kreacher said flatly.

"Thank you, Kreacher, this is exactly what I needed." Harry interjected, having leafed through the book a bit and seen that it was full of some of the most despicable magics he'd ever laid eyes on.

"Filthy halfblood will destroy it?"

"As soon as I can determine how many of these things there are." Harry confirmed and then paused in thought for a moment. He had initially been dismissive of the belligerent house elf, but after what he'd just heard, he could see that there was more to him than the outward bitterness. Even his bigotry seemed more like something that he just did without really believing it. And there was that idea that he'd been considering..."Kreacher, would you like to come work for me?"

Both Kreacher and Sirius were visibly shocked by his question and Sirius wasted no time in giving voice to his shock.

"Harry, do you really want him working for you?" He asked incredulously.

"Why not?" Harry asked in turn. "He's been nothing but loyal to your brother and deserves better than to be left abandoned in an empty house."

Kreacher visibly swelled with pride at the words.

Sirius threw his hands up into the air in exasperation. "Fine then, you can have him if you want to deal with his muttering."

Harry simply nodded and turned back to the house elf. "What do you say, Kreacher? Would you like to come work for me?"

Kreacher was surprised at actually being asked what he wanted, but nodded all the same. "Kreacher will serve the filthy halfblood."

At that point Harry realized that he already had one house elf, who had been as silent as a mouse the entire time. "Errr, I hope you don't mind, Teeny?"

Despite being more used to kindness than the Black family elf, Teeny was also caught a bit off guard at being asked such a thing. "No, Teeny doesn't mind, as long as Kreacher stops calling master a filthy halfblood. Master Harry is best master!" The last was said quite fiercely.

"Actually, I kind of like it." Harry admitted.

"You _like_ being called a filthy halfblood?" Sirius asked in disbelief.

"Not by everyone obviously, but coming from Kreacher it just sounds right, like Kreacher wouldn't be Kreacher if he wasn't calling me a filthy halfblood." The younger wizard explained.

"Kreacher will continue calling the filthy halfblood master a filthy halfblood." Kreacher nodded decisively.

"You're weird, Harry. Really weird."

XXXXX

 _The creation of a Horcrux is among the highest forms of sorcery, the manipulation of the soul._

 _First, the caster must cause a break in their soul. This can be achieved through various means, but they all circle back to the destruction of innocence. The simplest way of achieving this is through cold blooded murder of one who has done the caster no harm, the more harmless the better. Alternatively, killing a close friend would have even superior results._

 _Once the soul has become fragmented, a piece can be brought out and bound to an item. This is no simple matter, as only those with great souls are capable of listening to the echoes of magic within themselves and splitting apart a fragment._

 _The item used is also important. It can be no mundane thing, but something of great personal significance, else the soul fragment will not bond with it. Choose the item with care._

 _Once the Horcrux is created, the item used will become nearly impervious to damage as it takes on some of the indestructible properties of the soul. Be wary however, of methods that destroy magic, as they will sever the tie between the soul and the item._

 _Take heed that this sacrificial mutilation of one's soul may affect the flesh as it does the spirit and can never be undone._

 _The separated soul piece within the Horcrux will remain unchanged while the creator does not. Should you wish to return the fragment to the whole, you must do so quickly or it will become alien to you and resist._

 _The Horcrux should never be allowed in the presence of other witches or wizards, as it will attempt to regain a body through possession. Those with strong souls of their own may resist, but the weak will succumb and become vessels. Should this occur, the Horcrux will be far more vulnerable to destruction and may even become your enemy._

Harry shut the book with a frown and thought about what he'd just read.

There was nothing written there that was immediately helpful and the book obliquely implied that making more than one Horcrux was a bad idea. Voldemort had clearly disagreed.

Still, surely the separated soul fragment retained some link to the other parts of itself? That would be the sensible assumption, but there had been times in the past when magic and sense remained unrelated.

Either way, coming across this bit of knowledge had been less useful than he had hoped, and he didn't even have any guarantee that the author was entirely correct. He would still need to experiment on his own. For all that having a piece of someone else's soul to play with was a great opportunity, he couldn't help but feel anxious. He was not under any illusion of being ready for a wizard the likes of Voldemort and would have dearly liked to just drip a few drops of basilisk venom on the damn locket and be done with it, opportunity be damned.

XXXXX

"Any luck?" Sirius asked the next day.

"No." Harry grimaced. "Nothing I've tried so far has achieved a damn thing aside from giving me a headache from spending all that time resisting the compulsion to put it on."

"Maybe we should just destroy it?" Sirius suggested. "It's too damn dangerous to keep around if you're not getting anywhere."

"And then what? Hope that any other Horcruxes are just going to drop into our lap like this one did?" Harry grumbled.

"Harry, I know that you don't trust him, but Dumbledore knows Voldemort better than anyone, he might have some idea of where to find the others. If there even are any others."

"I'm not talking to him except as an absolute last resort. The old man is playing his own games, the full extent of which I can't see. He'd just pump us for information but give nothing in return."

Sirius would have liked to argue that point, but he couldn't. Dumbledore had indeed kept things very close to the chest for as long as anyone had known him.

"Besides, I didn't expect it to be easy." Harry went on. "Maybe I just need more knowledge on magic and souls before I try again."

Sirius rubbed a hand over his face tiredly, wondering at what strange twists life could take that would lead to his godson messing around with Voldemort's soul.

"At least take a break." He finally said. "You haven't done anything to relax since the summer started."

"Studying magic _is_ relaxing." Harry replied mildly. "And I've gone on a date with Dora."

"Go on another one."

"I will, but not yet. I have business to tend to first."

"I still can't believe that you're working out business deals at your age."

"You should be doing it too." Harry pointed out. "The Black family is in an even worse situation than Potter."

"Meh." Sirius shrugged, obviously uncaring. "I'll just leave it all to you. That way, House Potter gets elevated to Noble and Most Ancient status and Black goes extinct. Everybody wins."

Harry shook his head with an exasperated smile. Sirius' resentment for his family was boundless. He was going to deliberately wipe out his family name just to spite the dead. Well far be it from him to protest the free windfall.

"In that case, you can try your hand at explaining to Kreacher how mounting his head on a wall isn't an honor while I'm off listening to lawyers." The old Black family elf was incredibly stubborn and set in his ways.

"He's your elf now." Sirius pointed out cheekily. "He won't listen to me anymore."

XXXXX

Arranging a consultation with a wizarding lawyer wasn't too difficult thanks both to prior experience and Harry's personal status, but the muggle side was considerably more problematic, even without the need to skirt around the subject of magic. Nonetheless he had eventually managed it and taken his four prospective business partners to see both so that they could discuss the terms of their contract.

Those two meetings had taken up the the whole morning, leaving all five of them tired and hungry, so Harry had offered to treat them all to lunch.

Which was where they were now, the food had been eaten and the dishes taken away, leaving only the notes they'd taken from the two meetings on the table.

Quite a few of the things that had been discussed was stuff that they could easily agree on. Things like all five of them getting regular finance reports and being able to request a full accounting at any time and for any reason.

Of course, not everything was agreeable to all of them.

"I don't like this." Jade was saying with a scowl. "We've already talked about the Right of First Refusal so that we can't sell to anyone without your permission and I get why that would be a good idea, but there's a bunch of other things here that give you way too much power."

"Such as?" Harry asked mildly, seeing that the others agreed with her.

"I think that the one that bothers us the most is you having supermajority." Tiana said delicately. " It essentially gives you the last word on everything."

"Not everything." Harry said defensively.

"Riiight." Bryanna drawled. "We just can't sell or dissolve the business without your say so."

"That's pretty much just an extension to the Right of First Refusal." Harry countered.

"And this non-compete clause that makes it illegal for us to start up a similar business if we decide to leave?" Isabel asked.

"That's for your benefit as much as mine." Harry pointed out.

"What about this Capital Expenditure Approval thing then?" Tiana added. "We'd have to ask you for permission every time we want to spend some gold."

"Only for the larger scale expenses. That's my gold that you'd be working with and I don't want to hear that you spent a large chunk of it or even went into debt without my knowledge." He argued back.

"You'd lose that privilege once you lost majority ownership then?" Isabel asked stiffly.

"Not completely." He admitted. "I'd be willing to change the terms so that Bryanna and Tiana together could overrule me, but I'd still have to be consulted before it was done and I'd retain the right to buy back those shares at need."

"That would let you keep control even as a minority holder." She said with a scowl. "You could take back majority ownership at any time if you didn't like their decisions. The way it's worded, you could even force us to sell everything to you whether we wanted to or not."

"I wouldn't do that unless some circumstance forced me to." Harry insisted. "I'm not looking to swindle you out of anything here. Like it or not, but the more say I have in things, the less chance there is of some third party sticking their fingers into it. As long as it looks like you have no control, you'll be safe from any outside interference."

"And what assurance do we have that you won't just take everything for yourself once we start turning a profit?" Jade demanded.

"None." Harry retorted flatly, starting to get irritated. "What you _do_ have is a near certainty that some snobby pureblood is going to think that a bunch of uppity mudbloods and halfbloods have no business being successful and working to shut you down. I want the final say on any major decisions for the same reason. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I'll be taken a lot more seriously than you."

Seeing Jade bristle in a way that signaled an impending loss of temper, Bryanna quickly intervened. She grabbed hold of Harry's hand to draw his attention and spoke in a much softer tone of voice.

"Harry, if we agreed to a contract like this, we'd be placing all of our ambitions in your hands. Can we trust you that much?" She asked.

Harry took a deep breath to calm down, reminding himself that Isabel and Jade didn't know him. It grated to have his motives questioned like this, but it wasn't surprising. He wouldn't be enthused about entrusting his future to a virtual stranger on nothing but faith either.

"Yes, you can trust me." He assured her. "I want to be kept involved and informed, but for the most part I'll be a silent partner in all but name unless something requires my input."

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to swear an Unbreakable Vow to that effect?" Jade interjected waspishly, still a bit steamed from the earlier near-argument.

Harry looked at her as if she was an idiot. "I wouldn't swear an Unbreakable Vow to not burn down an orphanage with the children still inside it. I'll never agree to turn my own magic into a chain around my neck, no matter how good or benign the reason seems, especially not for something this trivial."

People who swore careless oaths always seemed to end up tripping over them eventually.

Jade backed off, taken by surprise at his vehemence.

"His word is good enough for me." Tiana jumped in. "We can trust him."

Bryanna quickly backed her up and the other two backed down. They weren't happy about it, but they would go along with it.

"Alright, good. We'll put together a proper contract later and look it over again, and after that we'll go to Gringotts to open up a company vault."

"A company vault?" Bryanna repeated.

"Yes, a company vault." Harry confirmed. "One that all of us have equal access to and which will be used exclusively for business related expenses and the payout of salaries. Much easier to keep everyone honest that way."

This time they all agreed without issue, fortunately. Isabel and Jade left together after that, leaving only three people at the table.

"So, Harry...What do you say we go seal the deal somewhere more private?" Bryanna asked coyly, placing a hand on his thigh. Tiana did the same on his other side.

Harry was getting some very pleasant flashbacks to his first Hogsmeade visit and what had happened afterwards, but it was with a sigh and a heavy heart that he grabbed hold of their hands and removed them.

"I'm sorry, girls, but I'm in a relationship now."

Both were visibly shocked and a bit disappointed, but soon sprouted conniving grins.

"And who is the lucky lady that caught your interest?" Bryanna asked.

"I don't really think you need to know that." Harry evaded.

"I bet she's older than us." Tiana declared. "Is she older than thirty?"

"I'm not telling you." He insisted.

"Not older than thirty then." The former Slytherin nodded, making Harry wonder how she had come to that conclusion. Granted, it was the right conclusion, but he had no idea what made her so certain. "She has to be somewhere between twenty and thirty then."

"Why does she have to be between twenty and thirty?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"So she _is_ between twenty and thirty!" Bryanna exclaimed,

"What?"

"Did she go to Hogwarts with us?" Tiana continued to press.

Harry paused in thought for a fatal moment. Tonks had just graduated by the time he'd arrived, so she would have been three years above Bryanna and Tiana. It was highly likely that they had known of her since Tonks was not exactly inconspicuous.

"Aha! She _did_ go to Hogwarts with us!" Bryanna crowed, seeing his small pause as a confirmation. "That puts her between the ages of...twenty-four and twenty."

"Probably closer to the lower end of that." Tiana advised. "No matter how smooth Harry is, I doubt a woman ten years his senior would be willing to get into a serious relationship with him right now, even six would be pushing it. Of course, she _could_ just be after his money, but we already know that Harry wouldn't be duped into something like that, don't we?"

"Good point." Bryanna conceded before turning to the baffled Harry, who could hardly believe the weird chain of logic that was leading them to quickly eliminate potential girlfriends with almost frightening accuracy. "Did you sleep with her yet?"

"That's none of your business." He said irritably, immediately regretting his impulsive answer.

"Ah, not one of the school sluts then, since you couldn't have been with her for long." Tiana nodded sagely.

"I think we can safely eliminate some of the more mousy ones too." Bryanna added.

"That's true. So, a woman in her early twenties that is neither a slut nor a mouse. Someone that wouldn't be interested only in his money and confident enough to attract attention." Tiana summarized and postulated.

"Is she a blonde?" Bryanna asked.

Harry answered with stony silence, refusing to give any more hints by speaking.

"Brunette?"

More silence.

"Redhead?"

Even more silence.

"Maybe it's that Metamorphmagus?" Tiana said with a snicker, quite obviously joking.

Harry twitched. The girls noticed.

"No way..." Bryanna said slowly. "You're dating Nymphadora 'don't call me that' Tonks?"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in resignation. "Yes, I'm dating Nymphadora Tonks."

"In retrospect, that should have been our first guess." Tiana said after a moment. "Just think about it. She's a twenty-one year old that can make herself look forty at will. He can have his cake and eat it too."

"That's not why I'm dating her." Harry grumbled.

"We know, Harry." Both girls said soothingly. "But you have thought about it."

"Of course I have." He said with an eyeroll. As if it was possible to avoid thinking about it. He wasn't a eunuch.

"Well we hope things work out for the two of you."

"Thanks, and I'd appreciate if you don't spread it around. The last thing I need is to have that bitch Skeeter making more disingenuous assertations in the _Prophet_."

"Don't worry, Harry, we won't say a word."

XXXXX

A few days later, Harry once again found himself in the Ministry for his Arithmancy OWL.

This one was almost entirely theory and was somewhat more difficult than the one for Ancient Runes, but he was confident in the results all the same.

The Governor of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, an ancient witch by the name of Griselda Marchbanks, approached him once he came out of the test chamber.

"Mr. Potter." She said neutrally, much to Harry's private relief. One or two of the examiners had been rather less than professional around him. "First I would like to laud your academic achievement. It has been many years since the last time that a student sat their OWLs early."

"Thank you." Harry replied with a nod.

"You will receive your results by owl at the end of July the same as everyone else." She went on.

"Ah, it may be better if I stopped by to pick them up myself." Harry interjected.

"Why is that?" She asked, puzzled.

"Owls have had trouble finding me for over a year now." He explained.

"What happened?" She pressed, even more puzzled.

"I don't honestly know." He lied. "The only thing of any real significance was a close encounter with a dementor, but I'm fairly certain that happened afterwards. Nothing really stands out other than that."

Marchbanks gave him a shrewd look, but he gave away nothing.

"Very well then, I will have your results in my office. You may come pick them up at any time after July 27th." She said, apparently deciding not to make an issue out of it.

Harry thanked the old woman again and left, inwardly grumbling about the amount of minor inconveniences his owl problem was causing him. It hadn't been an issue when his only bit of post had been from Luna or Ginny before they'd drifted apart, but given everything that he was getting involved with these days, it was becoming damned annoying.

He didn't appreciate having his time wasted on the minor minutia of the day. Maybe it was time to consider employing a steward or majordomo of sorts? A personal assistant of some sort at any rate. They wouldn't have a much to do just yet, but it looked like his business ventures were all set to start producing quite a bit of paperwork in the near future. Then there was his public image, regarding which he had recently woken up to the fact that it would probably need maintenance. The overblown legend of the Boy-Who-Lived was annoying and the hyphenated title stupid, but it could make for an excellent springboard to replace it with something...realistic and less didn't really have anyone in mind for the job, but it was something to think about.

XXXXX

"Paintball? We're doing paintball?" Tonks asked, sounding surprised and more than a little excited.

"Yep." Harry nodded. "I was thinking of all the places I could take you, like fancy dinners or dancing or whatnot, but then I thought to myself 'would Dora really enjoy that, or would she prefer to shoot high speed balls of paint at my arse?'. The answer seemed obvious, so I went and booked the arena just for us."

Tonks let him know what she thought about that by grabbing his head and pulling him down into a kiss.

"I've wanted to go paintballing for ages, but never had anyone to go with." She explained once she pulled away.

"We'll see if you'll still be excited once I plaster you with paint." He said with a challenging smirk.

"You will, will you?" She retorted with narrowed eyes. "You're clearly forgetting which one of us is the Auror and which is still a student."

"That'll just make my victory sweeter."

"Oh you've done it now. I am going to own you so hard, Potter."

XXXXX

Harry crept around the arena, keeping out of sight in order to properly flank his unaware opponent.

She was dangerous and had a good eye for positioning, but he had something of an unfair advantage. With the two of them being the only people anywhere in the vicinity, he could sense her location clear as day. Thus, he always managed to avoid her line of fire.

And he also had the Cloak of True Invisibility in his Bag of Holding and the ability to use wandless silencing spells. Really, he was cheating his arse off. He justified it to himself with the fact that his girlfriend had combat training and he didn't and wasn't cheating a crucial part of any kind of combat anyway?

Once he was in position a ways behind the tensely crouched figure, he pulled off the Cloak and stuffed it back into the Bag of Holding. Then he raised the paintball gun, took careful aim and fired.

The little ball of paint splattered over the small of Dora's back, joining several of its brothers.

"Gah!" Tonks yelped loudly, turning around and loosing fussilade of paintballs in his general direction. Alas, she hit only the cover that he'd hidden behind.

"That is it!" She shouted. "You're going down!"

Harry's eyes widened in alarm as she stormed towards him, apparently disdaining caution in favor of getting a hit on him. Knowing that he didn't have much time, he made a run for it, firing at her blindly in the hope that she would duck for cover. Judging by the stinging impacts along his back, it hadn't worked.

He kept on running, ducking behind cover as much as possible. He needed to get out of sight so that he could vanish again.

Then he heard a familiar sound. The crack of Apparition. Tonks appeared to his left, shot him a few times with a gleeful cackle and apparated away again.

"What the hell, Dora? That's cheating!" He yelled out hypocritically, rubbing at the places where he'd been shot.

"You're cheating too!" She accused from her new position. "There's no way that you just _happened_ to get behind me every sodding time!"

"Prove it!" He yelled back.

Her answer was a crescent slash of pink paint that he just barely dodged and which had quite obviously not come from a paintball gun.

"How's that for proof, you tosser?"

"Alright, if that's how it's going to be..." Harry mutterered and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak again.

Once more invisible and inaudible, he stalked over to where he was sensing his girlfriend. She looked mildly ridiculous in her paint covered camo overalls and mask, paintball gun in one hand and wand in the other.

Then he laid prone on the ground, poked the barrel of his paintball gun out from the edge of the cloak and shot her square in the arse.

Tonks jumped into the air with a yelp and spun around with every intention of getting her revenge, only to blink in confusion at the empty space.

Suspiciously, she waved her wand and muttered something that he didn't catch. A wave of something passed over him and he abruptly felt exposed despite being invisible. Then she looked right at him and he knew what spell she'd cast. The Human Presence Revealing Spell. He hadn't been sure if that would work even on the Cloak of True Invisibility, but apparently it did.

" _Accio Invisibility Cloak_." She hissed.

Harry felt the spell come within the range of his magical aura and resisted it. There was a reason why wizards in duels didn't just summon their opponent's wands and be done with it. Some spells didn't work too well once they entered the immediate presence of other magic users, the basic summoning charm being one of them. It only worked when the caster was significantly more powerful than the target. While Harry wouldn't bet on himself in a duel against his girlfriend right now, he thought that as far as raw power went, he might well be stronger than her. Maybe. It wasn't an exact science.

Tonks was visibly surprised at having her spell resisted though and Harry took the opportunity to fire a few more paintballs at her. In a display of impressive reaction speed, she apparated away before they could reach her.

Figuring that keeping the Cloak around now that she knew he had it was pointless, Harry stuffed it back into his Bag of Holding. No sense in letting it get splattered with paint.

"Alright, Dora, I've put away the Invisibility Cloak. Are you going to stop apparating?" He called out.

"No chance!"

Harry had just enough time to smile wryly when he sensed her apparating again and threw himself to the ground to avoid another crescent of pink paint. He quickly rolled onto his back and opened fire, fully expecting her to apparate away again. She surprised him by taking those hits in exchange for letting fly another slash of paint. There was no avoiding it this time, and he ended up having a line of pink bisect his torso. Then she apparated away.

"How'd you like that?" She gloated from her new position.

Harry decided that revealing one minor legal infraction to an Auror was well worth the price of one-upping her and apparated directly behind her.

This time, Tonks was far too surprised to react as he pulled her into an amateurish submission hold with his arms under hers and his hands interlaced on the back of her neck. She instinctively tried to break out of it, and he grunted in surprise at her strength. She was stronger than he would've given her credit for, but despite the age difference between them, he still had a good four inches of height on her, was male and had a minor magical strength enhancement going for him, so he was able to hold her.

She still had her wand though, which she awkwardly aimed at him and fired a silent Knockback Jinx.

One little known fact about magic was that casting spells in close proximity to other magic users could have some odd effects. The thoughts of the other magic user would intrude on the casting and warp the spell. The stronger the other, the more pronounced the effect.

So while Tonks had been intending for her spell to only knock back Harry, his desire to keep holding her meant that both of them were hit by the spell.

Harry oofed explosively as he was sandwiched between the unyielding ground and his girlfriend, leaving him short of breath and wheezing.

Tonks had no such impediment and immediately took advantage of his loosened hold to spin around and pull the transparent mask off his face before removing her own.

She was panting as she glared at him, face covered in a light sheen of sweat, but her hair was a happy pink and her dark eyes were anything but angry. Then her hair quickly started turning a flaming red.

Harry expected to be questioned on the matter of his skill with Apparition, for which he had long since prepared an explanation for, but she surprised him by mashing her lips against his demandingly.

Kissing was certainly better than explaining why he knew how to apparate, so Harry returned her affections enthusiastically. The impromptu make-out session soon included groping and began edging towards R-rated.

Deciding not to overthink it, He apparated them both to the master bedroom in Potter Manor.

Some time later, the owner of the paintball arena showed up, saw the inexplicable splashes of pink paint, the discarded masks and paintball guns, missing protective overalls and grumbled something uncomplimentary about long haired punks.

XXXXX

The two of them popped into existence on the carpeted floor and immediately resumed kissing.

Seeing that no slaps were incoming for his presumption, Harry immediately went to work on pulling the unflattering paint splattered overalls off his girlfriend. He growled in irritation as he discovered that overalls were not meant to be removed while horizontal.

The two of them somehow managed to clamber onto their feet while still kissing and groping each other, Dora's wand went flying carelessly into a corner of the room at this point as well. She tugged impatiently at the collar of his overalls and he pulled his arms out just as impatiently. Then they discovered that shoes generally need to be removed first and Tonks kneeled down to get rid of the offending footwear without hesitation.

Seeing her fire red hair bobbing at crotch level while she busied herself with that task had Harry gnawing on his lower lip in an effort to keep control of his lust. To his mixed relief and disappointment, she was done quickly and got back on her feet, though not without giving the bulge of his erection a cheeky kiss as she pulled off the overalls.

That made Harry groan in desire as he kissed her again and then pushed her towards the bed.

Her knees hit the edge and she fell on it with a small gasp. He ignored the urge to climb on top of her again for now and busied himself with pulling her own shoes off, followed by the stained overalls. Only once they were off did he go back to claiming her mouth and laying wet kisses over her sweat salted neck.

They were still wearing far too many clothes though and Harry was out of patience with the practice of removing it normally, so he simply grabbed the collar of her plain T-shirt and ripped it off.

"You animal, I liked that shirt." She gasped and complained in a tone so lusty that nobody could think she was actually displeased.

"I'll buy you all the shirts you want." He growled back and dove into the valley between her bra-clad breasts with his tongue.

He started moving his way further downward, paying special attention to the occasional bruise from their recent paintball match. Wizards and witches were fortunately quite a bit more sturdy than the norm, so the 'wounds' were likely to be more or less gone by tomorrow even without magical healing.

Tonks took his downward movement as an opportunity to divest him of his own shirt, leaving him topless.

Once he got to her shorts, he unbuttoned them impatiently, wishing that he could just rip them off like he'd done the shirt. He didn't bother going one at a time and removed her panties too while he was at it.

The scent of her womanhood drifted to his nose and it was all he could do to keep from instantly indulging his penchant for performing oral sex. The flaming red bush of pubic hair really deserved a comment though.

"So they _do_ match." He quipped instead, smirking up at her.

Tonks stuck her tongue out at him and gained a brief look of concentraction. Her pubic hair receded into her skin, leaving behind a completely bald crotch.

"That's useful." He murmured and leaned in close to take a deep whiff of her scent. Her legs quivered with anticipation.

Then she growled in frustration when he only gave her thighs a kiss and retreated, but he was determined to give her the best night he possibly could and that meant no rushing things.

He stood up with the intent of rolling her over to remove the offending bra she was still wearing, but she sat up at the same moment and started working on removing his own shorts, so he did it while she was busy with that.

His member sprang free of its cloth prison and greeted her enthusiastically. He'd grown considerably in size over the past year and now hung at a respectable six and a half inches. Not any kind of monster cock by any stretch, but he still had a bit of growing to do and he wasn't so inept at pleasing a woman that he felt the need to have some forearm sized monster attached to his crotch anyway.

He closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure as he felt Dora run her hands over him and lean in with obvious intent. Then she gave the tip a kiss and leaned back with a laugh, hair going a bit pinker.

Harry blew air through his nose in an attempt to look angry, but ruined it with the grin he couldn't quite suppress. He moved towards her and she scooted back on the huge bed until they were both somewhere in the middle, where he claimed her lips for another kiss.

The sensations were so much better now that they were both completely naked. She spread her legs and wiggled her hips in an obvious effort to entice him to just enter her, but he resisted. He still wanted to taste her first.

He made another trip down her body, this time stopping to give her uncovered nipples some attention. Once he was back in position between her legs, he gave her slit a slow lick, making a sound of pleasure at the taste of her juices on hs tongue and the sound of her pleasured gasp in his ears.

He kept that up for a minute or so, avoiding her the nub of her clitoris for the moment. He had something special in mind for that.

Dora got impatient with the slow pace though and started trying to pull his head up to the approriate height. He decided to oblige and gave the little nub a flick with his tongue. Her loud gasp told him that he was definitely not the only one enjoying this.

Then he was struck by inspiration.

"Dora?"

"What?" She moaned impatiently, wanting him to put that tongue back to a better use than asking stupid questions.

"Can you make it bigger like you did your nipples?" he asked, starting up at her with shining green eyes.

Tonks was intrigued by the idea and focused for a moment.

Harry watched eagerly as the tiny nub of her clitoris gained enough length to poke out from under its protective hood.

"Perfect." He purred and placed his lips over the newly enlarged organ.

Tonks gave a shuddering gasp and fell back on the bed with her mouth open wide in surprise, vaguely thinking that this idea had either been great or terrible. Maybe both.

Harry took his time in fully establishing the empathy bond that he'd used to such effect on all of their dates so far and only then began to gently manipulate the dense bundle of nerves with lips, tongue and magic.

Tonks spent the next five minutes gasping for air and letting him do whatever the hell he wanted as long as it kept her feeling this good.

Haryy knew that he could have brought her to orgasm already, but he was deliberately prolonging her pleasure. It was only when he heard the first needy whimpers that he stopped teasing her.

"Don't you dare stop!" She threatened breathily when he removed his mouth, though she didn't sound very threatening.

Harry didn't answer her verbally, instead electing to kiss her again and settle himself between her legs. He sank into her slowly, with his magic as much as his member, far too slowly for her tastes if the way she wiggled under him the whole time was any indication.

He started thrusting then, just as slowly as before, being careful not to push her over the edge of climax. Whenever he sensed that she was approaching that crest, he slowed down further or even stopped, just long enough for the tension in her body to recede a little bit.

She groped at his back and pulled on his butt in an attempt to get him to speed up, but he deliberately kept up the torturously slow pace. He felt her vaginal tunnel become tighter and more narrow as her Metamorph ability tried to help her squeeze that extra bit of pleasure from his slow motions, but that just made him go even slower. He wanted them to climax together and she was just going to have to bear with it until that happened. Of course, the sounds of need and pleasure she was making did play a part in that too.

She ran her hands over his runes repeatedly and he knew that she could feel them. Bryanna, Tiana and Zoe had been able to feel them too. Fortunately, the obscuring properties of _Arhain_ left them unable to really focus on that and the knowledge that he had scars all over his body slipped from their minds like a dream.

Harry kept her lingering on the frustrating edge of orgasm for nearly ten minutes before his own pleasure caught up with her. The sudden increase of in tempo caught her by surprise and disrupted the rhytm, but she was quickly pushed over the edge by the sudden increase in stimulation.

When her long denied orgasm was finally reached, she could do nothing but cling to him with her breath stolen from her by the strength of the release she felt. His grunting in her ear as she was flooded with his hot seed only made her own pleasure even greater.

When the pleasure subsided, all the strength seemed to leave her limbs and she collapsed into the bed with a content sigh.

"That was...wow." She sighed out, hair turning a lazy dark blue. "You've obviously had a _lot_ of practice."

"As much as I could manage." He agreed, a hint of smugness in his tone. He was cheating by employing magic to enhance the pleasure, and he was damn proud of it too. All is fair in love and war and all that.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, during which Tonks kept running her hands over his back. An action that quickly led to a reaction.

"No way." She protested weakly, feeling him previously softened member going back to full size again. "You can't still be ready for more."

"Don't worry, Dora. We can go to sleep if you're too tired for another round." He said soothingly.

Dark eyes narrowed in response.

"You better wipe that smirk off your face and get back to the shagging." Like hell was she going to be _that_ girl, the one that fell asleep while her man still wasn't satisfied.

"If you insist." He sighed theatrically.

XXXXX

Harry woke up at sunrise the next day, as he always did when the Sun roused his magic unless he'd already been awake.

The first thing he noticed was that he was spooning a soft body of the female persuasion and that his left arm was numb from being used as a pillow. The downsides of spooning.

Despite that bit of discomfort, he smiled at the memory of what had led to it. He and Dora had had a good time on their date, then they'd had a very good time after it and then they'd fallen asleep together in a state of utter relaxation and contentment with their magics mingling together.

She was still quite deeply asleep. He could feel it in her magic. The way that the air whistled cutely through her nose was also something of a clue.

Fanciful notions of staying in this emotionally soothing situation aside, Harry really needed to get up. His arm was sore, he was already getting hungry, he needed to make a trip to the loo and his morning wood was terribly distracting.

The last problem had the most pleasant solution, so he leaned forward and started nibbling on Dora's neck, watching in fascination as her natural brown hair developed streaks of color in response.

The Metamorphmagus was apparently either a very deep sleeper or still exhausted from last night's activities, as she failed to be roused by his ministrations.

It took a bit of maneouvering to shift her over to her stomach, applying liberal amounts of spit as lubricant and gently slide back inside.

That did get the sleeping woman to make a noise of mixed confusion and pleasure, but he continued to slowly thrust into her without pausing.

"Harry, the hell are you doing?" She asked blearily, mind not quite catching up to what her body was telling her.

He answered with a slightly harder thrust that made his intentions unequivocally clear. "I was taking advantage of you."

She gave a little gasp at the intrusion and then turned her head to look back at him when he stopped moving. "Well? Who told you to stop?"

XXXXX

When Sirius made his way to breakfast that morning, he was treated to the sight of his godson and his second cousin sitting together in silk morning robes.

"I see that someone's had a good time." He said with a broad grin. "High five, Harry."

Harry raised his arm and gave his passing godfather a high five.

"Did you two seriously just high five each other over me?" Tonks demanded tersely.

"Sorry, Dora." Harry apologized. "It's easier to just give the sad old man what he wants than to see him pout."

"Hey!" Sirius pouted indignantly while the Metamorphmagus snorted.

"He's had no luck with women since being freed you see, so he's resorted to living vicariously through me." Harry continued, making Tonks snicker in amusement.

"You're a horrible godson." Sirius huffed.

"That reminds me, I need to pick up a few batches of contraceptive potion." Tonks said with a frown.

"Ran out of stock?" Harry asked lightly, but felt a frisson of worry.

"Nah, I stopped taking it over a year ago." She replied with a wave of her hand. "It tastes gross and I wasn't getting laid anyway."

Harry felt cold sweat bead on his face at the admission. The one time that he neglected to use the contraceptive spell and it just happened to be with a woman who didn't use any protection. "Errr, Dora..."

"Don't worry, Harry, as long as I use it sometime in the next three days I won't be getting preggers wth your babies." She said with a snicker.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He was way, _way_ too young to have kids, accelerated development be damned.

"That was mean." Sirius observed. "I like it."

"You would." Harry shot at him.

The conversation lapsed into silence for a while as they focused on eating, during which time Harry started becoming bothered by something.

Namely, why was his girlfriend not commenting on his illegal use of Apparition yesterday? Eventually, he decided to just ask.

"Hey, Dora?"

"Yeah?"

"How come you aren't saying anything about the fact that I apparated us yesterday?"

"Oh Harry, you really think that you're the first minor to do that?" She sighed. "I _could_ report you for it, but that would mean more paperwork for me and a pointless reprimand from the DMLE for you. The age restriction on the use of Apparition was put into place because only about 30% of Britain's adult magical population is capable of it and stupid kids were splinching themselves all over the place trying to get it right on their own. Just don't do it where people can see and try to pretend that you're having some trouble learning it in a few years."

"Huh." Harry said in response, pleasantly surprised by the pragmatism. Then he leaned in to give his girlfriend a peck on the lips. "You're one cool Auror, you know that?"

"I am pretty damned cool, aren't I?" She preened.

Sirius made exaggerated gagging noises.

"Is the stupid blood traitor choking on something?" Kreacher asked as he wandered into the room, carrying a stack of clothes.

"No, Kreacher, Sirius is just being childish." Harry explained.

Kreacher nodded in understanding and turned towards Harry, depositing his burden on the edge of the table. "Kreacher has cleaned and repaired filthy halfblood master's filthy halfblood whore's clothes."

"Oi!" Harry said sternly, genuinely angry this time. "You can call me and Sirius whatever you like, but you _will_ be respectful to everyone else, especially to Dora."

"Kreacher apologizes." The house elf replied, not sounding especially sincere.

"What was up with that?" Tonks asked in bewilderment after he left.

"Sorry about that, Kreacher used to be the Black family elf, so he's got something of an attitude problem." Harry explained, rubbing his forehead. He really should have expected the crotchety old elf to be rude to guests as well as him.

"I can see that." Tonks said, somewhat amused now despite getting called a filthy halfblood whore. "Why do you let him get away with it though?"

"Because he finds it funny to get insulted by his house elf for some reason." Sirius snorted.

"You have to admit that being called a filthy halfblood all the time is more interesting than the near worship you get from most house elves." Harry argued.

"You're weird, Harry." Tonks said, reaching for the stack of clothes that Kreacher had deposited.

"That's what I said!" Sirius chimed in.

"Hmpf." Harry retorted disdainfully.

"He calls this repaired?" Tonks asked wryly, looking at her haphazardly stiched together T-shirt.

Harry sighed and made a mental note to talk to Kreacher about his passive aggressive tendencies towards guests. In fact, he probably needed to talk to him about appropriate conduct in front of and to guests in a very general sense as well."Don't worry about it, I'll replace that for you."

"Oh, that's right!" Tonks exclaimed, eyes shining with delight. "You promised to take me shopping."

Sirius looked at his godson in disbelief. What kind of stupid man says that to a woman?

"Errr, yes?" Harry said uncertainly, a bit unnerved by the look in his girlfriend's eye.

"It's a good thing that it's my day off today." She said, already plotting out a list of shops to visit. One of the often overlooked side benefits of being a Metamorphmagus was the vastly increased ease of clothes shopping.

"Why would you need a whole day for shopping?" Harry asked, bewildered.

Sirius shook his head sadly. Some lessons needed to be learned the hard way. He couldn't help his godson here.

XXXXX

While Harry occupied his time with his own affairs, the plotters and schemers of the Wizarding World brooded on things that were decidedly not their business.

XXXXX

In Hogwarts castle, its aged Headmaster paced in his office and considered the pieces on the chess board.

Voldemort was worryingly silent. There had been no real news of him for some time now. It was always a bad sign when you didn't know what your foe was up to.

The Dark Lord must assuredly be plotting a way to retun to life, but his movements remained elusive. His Horcruxes likewise remained elusive.

On the other side of the board, the Harry Potter situation was looking much better. He had managed to draw out from Remus Lupin a confirmation of a relationship with Nymphadora Tonks. This was good. Excellent even.

The young Auror would give Harry a firm tie to Wizarding Britain and a reason to defend it from the Dark Lord. Even better, she could be recruited into the Order of the Phoenix and bring Harry closer to Dumbledore's sphere of influence. Because of that relationship alone, he was considering reactivating the Order earlier than intended. He could even offer Harry membership despite his young age. Not yet though, the relationship had to mature a bit first and a solid reason for the move given. Harry was far too cagey to miss that kind of blatant manipulation and may be able to sway young Nymphadora to adopt the same distrust towards him as Harry had.

The boy worried him as much as he impressed him. His knowledge and understanding of magic was already frightfully deep for his youth and could only grow deeper with age, though he was blessedly lacking in the cruelty that Tom Riddle had displayed or even the same kind of hunger for power as Dumbledore himself had once had.

The problem was that whatever was driving the boy remained a mystery. Dumbledore did not feel comfortable with the lynchpin of this entire conflict being a mystery. He wanted to trust Harry, he truly did, but what was he supposed to think of a boy just shy of fourteen that felt the need to magically age himself and had already taken a life with no great remorse?

Harry had discarded his childhood and would soon have to deal with the realities of being a powerful wizard. Sirius was ill-equiped to shield him from it and Dumbledore was no longer able.

More than anything, it was the uncertainty of it all that he feared. He feared it, because he could see the makings of either a great hero or a terrible villain in Harry. He feared it, because he had no idea what he would do should things turn ill. He feared it, because he knew that a wizard who truly wanted to become powerful would become powerful no matter what he or the Ministry or anyone else tried to do to prevent it. Delay, yes. Prevent, no. Getting in his way would just make him even more secretive, sneaky and worst of all, resentful.

So he plotted to throw as many good influences and reasons to fight evil into Harry's path as possible and hoped that it would be enough. He hoped that Harry would stand against Voldemort. He hoped that he would die standing against him, because Dumbledore didn't think that he had the strength to kill the boy himself should it come to that.

XXXXX

In the office of the Minister of Magic, a far less intelligent and venerable man was also pacing. Though in his case it was less thoughtful and more fretful.

"I just don't know what to do, Dolores!" Fudge fretted to his Senior Undersecretary. "Surely there should have been some word from Black and Potter by now? Potter was in the Ministry twice since Black's name was cleared but he hasn't come speak to me. What does it mean?"

He had successfully blamed the entire debacle with Sirius Black's unjust imprisonment on former Minister Bagnold and Barty Crouch Sr. Bagnold was obviously not in a position to care, being dead as she was, but Crouch had found his popularity falling even lower than it had in the aftermath of his son being found a Death Eater and had since been shuffled off into some dead end Ministry department that most people didn't even know existed. He had expected that he would be able to meet privately with the Boy-Who-Lived and the new Lord Black, but no such meeting was forthcoming.

"Wasn't Sirius Black always a disgrace to his family?" Dolores Umbridge answered in her simpering voice. "If he were not the last of his family, he would never have been its Lord. Perhaps he doesn't know the basic courtesies expected of him. As for Potter...well, he is only a boy and he grew up with _muggles_."

Fudge looked askance at the pink clad woman. Potter was young yes, but a boy? The tall wizard with the too-bright eyes and a sense of power around him was no boy. He had been reminded far too much of Dumbledore when speaking to that 'boy', constantly feeling flustered and out of control.

It was not something that Fudge would admit to anyone, not even to himself, but he hated dealing with powerful wizards and witches. Hated dealing with Dumbledore, who could twist a conversation into twenty different directions and convince you that he always knew best and that you were being childish if you didn't listen. Hated dealing with Bones, whose hard edged personality, rigid inflexibility where the law was concerned and popularity in the Ministry made her a terror to deal with. Now he also hated dealing with Potter, whose legend, wealth, nobility and sheer presence made him a power to be courted, but one who did not seem keen to acknowledge when favors were owed.

Still...Dolores might have a point. Potter _was_ young, and _had_ grown up with muggles. He may well simply not know how the game was played. He would have to be taught then, but how to go about it?

He wished that Lucius was here. Dolores had her uses, but she was not as clever as she thought she was. Certainly not as clever as Lucius Malfoy.

Speaking of Lucius, he still had to extend him an invitation for the Quidditch World Cup that was happening in a month. The Malfoy patriarch had helped him greatly over the years and it wouldn't do to let that friendship go fallow.

Inspiration struck him then. It would insult Lucius, but it would give him an opportunity to feel out Black and Potter. Surely his old friend would understand and accept his apologies if he invited Black and Potter to the Top Box instead?

Of course, there were other problems with the Quidditch World Cup. Namely the fact that Barty Crouch had been one of the lead organizers and was now suddenly no longer involved, nor was the man willing to help since he'd been transferred. Terribly petty of him actually.

"Dolores, do we have anyone to replace Crouch as Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation yet?"

"No, I haven't yet managed find anyone qualified that could be spared from another department." Umbridge answered with a sickly sweet smile.

Of course, when Umbridge said 'qualified', she meant 'of proper breeding'. There actually were a few people who could have taken over for Crouch, but they were halfbloods and had not even merited a glance from her. Bad enough that the Goblin Liason Office had recently been taken over by a mudblood, even if dealing with those disgusting little creatures was about what they deserved, but she would never tolerate having anyone but a pureblood in a post as prestigious as International Magical Cooperation.

Fudge took the words at face value, as he usually did. There was a reason why he hadn't been a Slytherin. This put him in something of a pickle. He needed that post filled soon. It had already been empty for a couple of weeks and the problems were starting to pile up. Because of this, he did something that he didn't really want to do.

"Dolores, would you mind terribly if I assigned you to temporarily take the job? Just until we can find someone else?" Fudge had his faults, his many, many faults, but he was aware of the fact that Dolores Umbridge was not a very likeable woman and would not do the British Ministry's reputation in the wider world any favors in that position. Unfortunately, he needed that post filled and how much harm could she do in the short time that she would hold it anyway?

"Of course, Cornelius, you can count on me." She replied in her typical saccharine tone. She preferred to be the Minister's Senior Undersecretary, but she would serve the Ministry to the best of her ability in whichever position she needed to. Besides, it would give her the chance to put that department to order. Crouch had been distressingly lax with who he had allowed to climb the ranks there.

XXXXX

Over in Malfoy Manor, Lucius Malfoy did not pace. Pacing was for unrefined commoners.

Instead, he brooded in a high backed chair with a bottle of expensive wine in hand.

Sirius Black was a problem. He hadn't been able to contrive a way to get rid of said problem quickly enough, which meant that by now Harry Potter had also likely become a problem already. The inheritance of a family was an entirely internal affair, meaning that Black was not obligated to inform anyone of his decisions regarding who his Heir was, but unless Black was a complete dimwit, he had already designated his godson as Heir.

The only silver lining was that he had not banished either Narcissa or Draco from the family, yet. That at least he would have to send word about. That would have been a disaster. It was still a potential disaster though, and it would remain as such for as long as Black and now Potter lived.

Oh, how he longed for the days when he could have donned the mask and robes of a Death Eater and solved such problems with a quick Killing Curse. It was truly unfortunate that those particular circumstances also brought along the inevitable need to bow and scrape before the Dark Lord. He was much happier with the current state of affairs, despite not being able to personally kill his enemies.

Lucius had been young and more hotheaded when he had joined the Death Eaters. He had wanted to bring back a world where blood meant something. He had learned too late that it would have been wiser to support the Dark Lord from the sidelines and leave the direct involvement to others.

He had heard enough whispers to guess that the Dark Lord was still alive in some fashion, but he would not seek him out. The Dark Lord was powerful, but he was a bungler. Despite his protestations about blood purity and the old ways, the Dark Lord had wiped out numerous distinguished families, both among his enemies and his allies.

Even the damned Potters had been respectable not that long ago. It was only with James Potter and his fixation on that mudblood of his that they'd fallen from grace.

The man's son was a curious thing. A disgusting halfblood, true, but one that promised to be dangerous in the future. Lucius was not so foolish as to dismiss those of lower breeding as being powerless or even useless. Dumbledore was a halfblood and nobody dismissed him. Even mudbloods could be dangerous, though Lucius could only point at James Potter's wife as an example. Subhuman and disgusting, but not powerless. A troll was disgusting too, but it could be dangerous in the right circumstances.

The Potter scion had not yet truly given any real indication of his views. Draco had described him as a reclusive sort, with his only friend being that bizarre Lovegood chit. Had things been different, he might have courted an alliance with him.

Unfortunately, Draco had bungled up his first meeting with him and made the Malfoys his enemies. It would have been so much easier to dispose of Potter had they been allies.

Now Lucius found himself in the unenviable position of having to kill off both Black and Potter without any real means of getting close to them.

On top of that was his concern that one of his more idiotic fellow Death Eaters would eventually catch on about the Dark Lord's continued existence and work to bring him back. Considering that he had gotten the diary destroyed in a failed plot to discredit Arthur Weasley, that could not possibly end well for Lucius. Worse still, he had a dire suspicion that the diary had been more important to the Dark Lord than he had originally thought it to be.

Of course, he couldn't just come out and tell that to the others. None of them could just come out and openly state that they didn't want to support Voldemort anymore. That would be stupidly Gryffindorish, though that was a bit of a tautology in and of itself.

What Lucius needed to do was hedge his bets on the off chance that some dimwit helped facilitate Voldemort's return. He needed to be seen as still championing the cause without actually doing anything himself. That was fortunately something that he was very good at.

The Quidditch World Cup was coming up in about a month. He was actually expecting Fudge to come by any day now with an invitation to join him in the Top Box for the event. He was sure that a few of his more gullible former compatriots could be persuaded into donning their old robes and causing a ruckus. He'd get credit of organizing it and none of the blame since he'd have a nice alibi.

As it happened, his recently purchased house elf brought a letter from the Minister just a few minutes later.

Lucius' eyebrows climbed elegantly up his forehead as he read the letter. Fudge was apologizing profusely for passing him over for the invitation, but he desperately needed to curry some favor with Black and Potter as recompense for the unjust imprisonment, so he was going to invite them instead.

This was...actually very convenient. Oh, he'd make Fudge sweat over the insult later, but this would place Black and Potter in a predictable place and in close proximity to his more gullible Death Eater comrades. Getting them to attack those two would be the height of simplicity. Of course, he'd have to account for the possibility that one or more of them would get captured and questioned, which meant that he would have to arrange things in such a way that none of them could solidly point a finger at him, but that could be done easily enough.

XXXXX

"Hey, Harry?" Sirius inquired with an odd look on his face.

"What?" Harry asked, not looking up from the little magical trinket he'd been staring at in an effort to see what made the magic work and if he could tease it apart.

"Were we expecting post from the Minister of Magic?" Sirius continued, still with an odd look on his face.

"Fudge?" Harry asked, finally looking at his godfather. "Why would that blithering idiot send us post?"

"Apparently we're being invited to attend the Quidditch World Cup as honored guests of the Minister of Magic." Sirius explained.

Harry groaned in irritation. He didn't give a shit about quidditch and didn't want to deal with the Minister of Magic if it could be helped, but he had a feeling that this wasn't the kind of thing that he could just refuse. Not without some damned annoying consequences at any rate.

"I guess that means we're going?" Sirius asked in resignation. Though not the kind of quidditch enthusiast that James had been, Sirius could enjoy watching a match, but this stank of politics all the way through.

"Yes, we're going." Harry sighed.

"Couldn't we just tell Fudge to bugger off?" Sirius was an optimist.

"We could, but I've got a feeling that it would cause us even more problems in the future." Harry was a cynic.

"I hate it when you're right." Sirius grumbled.

"Sometimes, so do I." Harry sighed again.


	13. Chapter 13

**A couple of people have complained about the amount of sex in this fic and I feel the need to respond to this.**

 **The story is marked M for a reason. Grow up.**

 **Rowling wrote her books as if nobody had a single thought about sex and as if hormones didn't exist either because she didn't feel comfortable writing about it, felt that it wasn't relevant or because she wanted to keep things PG. Nothing wrong with that, but I prefer to keep my characters as human as possible and that means sex.**

 **A co-ed boarding school with a huge number of empty rooms and poor supervision? There would be more fucking than learning.**

 **An insular society that developed without the presence of a sexually repressive religion? There would be so much fucking.**

 **An easy magical fix for any potential problems? You cannot even imagine how much fucking there would be, both consensual and not.**

 **I'm actually being very conservative, but I can't devote 30% of every chapter to fucking.**

 **With that out of the way, onwards to the chapter proper. Much thanks go to Joe Lawyer for pointing out several problems and helping to polish up the chapter.**

XXXXX

Harry smiled to himself as he walked out of the Department of Magical Education. He'd gotten Outstandings on both of his OWLs. Professors Vector and Babbling would be pleased. He wondered what they would work on now that these silly exams were over with.

His wonderings were brought to an abrupt end when someone carelessly stomped around a corner and bumped into him quite forcefully.

Harry grunted in irritation as both of them lost their footing and fell to the floor. Honestly, was it so damn hard to pay attention to where you were going?

"Sorry." The woman who had so unceremoniously crashed into him muttered with a rather angry sounding sniffle.

"Penny?" Harry asked, blinking in surprise as he recognised the former Hogwarts Head Girl.

"Harry?" The now identified Penelope Clearwater said back in the same tone.

"Are you okay?" He asked with a frown, noticing that she looked simultaneously angry and about to cry.

"I'm fine." She asserted, not very convincingly it had to be said.

Harry frowned some more. She was quite obviously not fine. He could pretend that he believed her. It was probably none of his business anyway...

...But Penny had done her best to look after him back when he had been a prickly eleven year old with an all around unpleasant attitude. She had warned him about Bryanna's little seduction plot, which he could admit to himself might have turned out a lot more messy if he hadn't known to be wary of it. He'd feel like an arse if he just left.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" He offered.

XXXXX

Penny had resisted at first, but he'd insisted and she'd relented. Now she was using a fork to push the remains of her meal around morosely, anger seemingly giving way to depression.

"Do you want to talk about whatever is bothering you?" He asked.

"Not really." She mumbled.

Harry frowned. This was not at all like Penny.

"Maybe I can help?" He ventured.

"Can you make the world fair?" She asked bitterly.

"Penny, what happened?" He pressed.

"Reality happened." She went on in the same bitter tone. "You know I'm a muggleborn, right?"

Harry nodded silently, already having a good idea where this was going just from that one question.

"Well I never really fit in with that world. Always had my nose stuck in fantasy books or daydreaming. Getting that Hogwarts letter and learning that magic was real was like a dream come true. So I did my best to learn as much as I could, because I wanted to be part of it. All the teachers kept telling me what a bright future I had ahead of me, the bloody liars. Not one of them thought to mention that my muggleborn status was going to have more weight than anything I did."

"I see." Harry sighed.

"Oh it gets worse!" Penny went on, getting angry again. "You remember how I put Malfoy in detention at the start of the school year?"

Harry furrowed his brow in thought and nodded. He did remember that the blond moron had been trying to start something or other again and gotten slapped down for it by Penny.

"Well apparently he found it so offensive to be punished by a 'mudblood' that he went crying to daddy about it and Malfoy senior made sure that I won't be able to get a respectable job anywhere in Wizarding Britain."

Harry sighed again. He wasn't even surprised that they'd be that petty. The fact that Malfoy senior's arm was long enough to manage that _was_ a bit of a surprise...but not that much of one. He'd already known that a lot of the jobs open to muggleborns weren't respectable even without his interference after all.

"Then the little shitestain had the stones to write me a letter to brag about it!" Penny continued, seething. "He even suggested that I try the whorehouses in Knockturn Alley if I'm looking for something 'appropriate for my station'!"

"Do you want me to throw him off the Astronomy Tower when September rolls around?" Harry offered, only semi-joking. He'd already taken one piece of trash out of the world with Pettigrew and the younger Malfoy was not looking much better. Had he not been so angry on Penny's behalf, he might have wondered at how seriously he was contemplating homicide.

Penny was a nice girl and might have disapproved of that suggestion under normal circumstances, but these were not normal circumstances.

"Can you make it look accidental?" She asked instead, fondly imagining the blond shite's bones shattering on impact.

"Probably not." Harry conceded.

"Better not do it then. It wouldn't fix my situation anyway, even if it would be satisfying."

Harry nodded again, giving the situation some more thought. Even if he didn't kill Malfoy, he was still going to make his life miserable. He was sure that the Weasley twins would be agreeable to helping out. He'd pay them for it even. He and Penny might never have been super close, but he wasn't going to just let this go and he was sure that Fred and George wouldn't take too kindly to their brother's girlfriend getting shafted like this to satisfy that little idiot's ego either. Actually, speaking of Percy...

"Where is Percy in all this? Weren't the two of you together?" He asked.

"Not anymore we aren't." Penny spat, anger coming back to the fore. "The jerk had the gall to suggest that I could've avoided this if I'd been more careful with who I assigned detentions to. That's what I was so upset about in the Ministry just now."

"Why am I not surprised?" Harry muttered to himself. Percy had always seemed like the stereotypical brown nosing 'yes man' to him, few though their interactions had been. He'd never understood what Penny had seen in him, but hadn't cared to stick his nose in their personal business.

"I guess I'll have to move to a different country. Either that or go back to the normal world, catch up on my normal education and get a normal job." Penny said despondently a few moments later. She was obviously not excited by either idea.

Harry leaned back in his seat as he considered an idea he'd just had. He'd thought about hiring a personal assistant of sorts a while ago, but hadn't really put any effort into finding someone appropriate. He'd imagined someone older and more experienced, but Penny had been made Head Girl for a reason and that had to count for something and the job shouldn't be beyond her abilities at this stage anyway. She would probably also be more loyal since he'd be getting her out of a sticky situation, which had been a concern of his.

"What if...I could offer you a job?" He said slowly, uncertainly. He wasn't comfortable making decisions so quickly, but he wanted to help her and the solution just seemed so convenient for both of them.

"What kind of job?" She asked skeptically.

"I'm not sure what your actual title would be, but you'd essentially be my personal assistant. You'd handle my mail, organize my schedule, run errands for me, keep an eye and ear out for things I should know, keep any secrets you learn secret, do research and similar stuff." He explained.

"Is this some elaborate ploy to get me to sleep with you?" She continued to ask skeptically, though there was a tinge of humor in it too this time. "I've been hearing things about you this past year."

Harry huffed a bit, but was glad to see that her mood seemed to have picked up a bit. "No, I'm being serious." And it was a good thing that Sirius wasn't present, or else he'd have made a pun right about now.

Penny was apparently convinced of his sincerity, but now looked uncertain about something else. "I don't know, Harry...I don't think I'm really qualified for something like that."

She looked disappointed and reluctant when admitting this, giving Harry the impression that she wanted to accept but was compelled by honesty to say it anyway. That was probably a good sign.

"You wouldn't have much to do just yet ." He admitted. "Things aren't actually at the point where I _need_ a personal assistant, but I'm expecting it to happen soon enough. Plus, it'll give you time to get into the swing of things and it makes my life a bit easier in the process."

"I wouldn't be able to support myself just doing odds and ends for you." She said with a sigh.

Harry frowned. He _could_ offer to employ her full time despite the fact that she would have very little to do until things picked up, but his frugal sensibilities wouldn't let him be so wasteful even if it wouldn't make a noticeable dent in his finances and he had a feeling that Penny wouldn't be comfortable with that anyway.

"Alright, how about this then." He began, getting a new idea. "I pay you a small fee and let you move into Potter Manor if you want, where you will get free room and board. You handle whatever needs to be handled for now and when the work picks up, I'll start paying you properly. It'll be like an internship."

"Are you _sure_ this isn't some trick to get me to sleep with you?" Penny asked again after a moment of thought.

Harry rolled his eyes expansively. "Yes, I'm sure. My girlfriend would undoubtedly kick my arse if it was."

"You have a girlfriend?" Penny blurted out incredulously.

"Yes, I do." He replied, deciding not to comment on her disbelieving tone. "You'll meet her soon enough if you accept."

Penny bit her lip uncertainly. She really wasn't sure about this and it definitely wasn't what she'd imagined herself doing, but it seemed like a good offer and she knew that Harry was a good bloke.

And she didn't want to just bow her head and leave. It would feel too much like letting the damn bigots win.

"Alright, I accept."

XXXXX

Soon after her acceptance, Harry apparated both himself and Penny to Potter Manor.

"You can apparate already?!" She blurted out as soon as the disorientation passed.

"Yes." He replied with a nod. "I'll be expecting you to keep that a secret by the way."

"But the Ministry..." She protested weakly.

"Will do nothing." He interrupted. "Even if they learn about it, they'll only cause a fuss for the sake of appearances. Trust me on this, I have the word of an Auror on it."

"Okay, I guess." Penny mumbled, not sure what to think of that. Eventually she just shrugged and decided to go along with it. After discovering the way that justice worked in the Wizarding World, she wasn't feeling too fond of the Ministry anyway.

"Teeny, is Sirius home?" Harry asked seemingly to the air.

The little house elf popped in immediately and began nodding. "Yes, master Harry. He is being home."

"Good, can you bring him and Kreacher here?"

Teeny nodded compulsively and popped off to fetch the two of them. A few minutes later, they were back.

"Alright, introductions." Harry said with a clap of his hands. "Penny, you've already met the Potter family elf, Teeny."

"Hello." Penny greeted.

"Hello, Ms. Penny!" Teeny said back energetically.

"Next we have the Black family elf, Kreacher." Harry went on, gesturing to the sour faced house elf.

"Hello."

Kreacher merely nodded silently.

"Don't be surprised if he starts calling you a filthy mudblood after a while." Harry advised. "Don't take it personally either, it's just how he talks. He calls me a filthy halfblood and Sirius a filthy blood traitor."

"O...kay?" Penny replied confusedly.

"And lastly we have the filthy blood traitor himself, Sirius Black. Ostensibly, he's living here because he's my magical guardian, but in reality he's more of a freeloader and comic relief."

"Why do you have to keep insulting me in front of all the pretty girls, Harry?" Sirius demanded. "Are you afraid they'll like me better than you?"

"Not much chance of that." Harry retorted. "Why would they like an old man like you when I'm here?"

"Don't listen to him...Penny was it?" Sirius said suavely, turning to the girl that his godson had brought for as of yet unknown reasons and kissing her hand. "He's just jealous of my good looks and distinguished maturity." Harry snorted derisively at the notion that his godfather possessed any kind of maturity, let alone a distinguished one. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Um, Harry offered me a job." Penny managed to say with a flustered blush. She hadn't expected to be flirted with so blatantly.

"That thing we talked about a couple of weeks ago?" Sirius asked, turning back to his godson.

"Yes, that one." Harry nodded. "Anyway, this is Penelope Clearwater. She'll be living with us now and acting as a personal assistant."

"I would be delighted to give her a tour of the manor and help her pick out a room." Sirius offered with his most roguish smile, not batting an eyelash at hearing that they'd have another person living with them.

"I'm sure you would, you reprobate." Harry fired. "But we need to establish ground rules first."

"Ground rules?" Penny echoed curiously.

"Yes, ground rules. Firstly and most importantly, the basement is absolutely off limits. I keep the door locked at all times anyway, but it's still worth mentioning. There's a bunch of dangerous magical artefacts down there and I don't want you getting hurt." And that wasn't even mentioning the Horcrux or his personal workshop for the times when he was fiddling with things both illegal and dangerous.

"Secondly, you'll notice that there is a specially marked off section of the library. This is because the books there have been ...ah... _liberated_ from the Black family library and are of a darker nature. You can read them if you want, but don't be surprised if you come across a book detailing the magical properties of human body parts as potion ingredients or something similar." Harry wasn't inclined to hoard knowledge, having long despised the Ministry's censorship. If she wanted to take a look at those books, then she was welcome to.

Penny looked deeply discomfitted by this but nodded all the same, privately deciding to stay well away from there.

"And finally, whatever you see or hear in this house you keep to yourself. Is that okay with you?"

Penny agreed easily, there being nothing about that that she was bothered about.

"Good. Since Sirius already offered, he can show you around. Feel free to hex him if he makes a pass at you."

"Why I never!" The man in question huffed indignantly. "I am the very soul of chivalry."

"Chivalry is just a fancy word for trying to get into a woman's knickers through politeness." Harry sneered in retaliation.

"You really need to get that cynicism of yours checked out, Harry." Sirius said with dramatic sadness, shaking his head at his godson. "It can't be good for you to have such a bleak worldview."

"I'm fine with bleak." Harry shrugged.

Penny watched the good natured bickering with a bemused smile. Harry was being a lot more open than she remembered him being, certainly more open than he was with anyone his own age. Was this why he had so much trouble making friends at Hogwarts? Because he was more able to relate to adults than children?

She supposed it didn't matter now. Harry wasn't the sullen, friendless, anti-social first year anymore and seemed happier, which was what she'd been trying to achieve by looking out for him in Hogwarts in the first place.

XXXXX

After the tour was over and Penny had chosen a room to move into, she'd asked what she was actually expected to do now that she was here. A moment later, Teeny dropped off a medium sized pile of letters on the desk of the room she'd chosen for herself.

"At the moment, you'll mostly just be answering spam mail." Harry admitted, gesturing to the pile. "Apparently, Dumbledore spent the past few years refusing interview and meeting requests from various reporters, Ministry bootlickers and assorted busybodies. Now that Sirius is my magical guardian, all of that mail is going to him and my dear godfather is sadly not as diligent or diplomatic as the Headmaster."

"Guilty as charged." Sirius confessed. He just didn't have the patience to read the letters of the many vultures clamoring for a piece of his godson, much less politely decline. He was actually more inclined to send back parchment with prank spells on it.

"So you want me to politely tell everyone to shove off?" Penny asked for clarification.

"Pretty much." Harry nodded. "You'll still have to read through all of it because there might actually be something important in the middle of all that tripe, in which case you should bring it to me."

"Alright, that doesn't sound so bad." She said mostly to herself and reached for one of the letters at random. Might as well get a feel for what she'd be doing.

Her cheeks pinked as she skimmed over the letter.

"Err, this seems to be an invitation to, uh, spend the night." Penny stammered out with a blush. "She also included a picture."

Sirius quickly snatched the letter and removed the attached animated picture of a very nice looking witch in her late twenties.

"I think it's best if you brought these types of letters directly to me." He declared authoritatively.

This got him deadpan looks from his godson and even Penny.

"What?" He demanded.

"Sirius, were you planning on taking that woman up on her offer on my behalf?" Harry asked mildly.

"Of course." Sirius nodded firmly. "I'm your godfather, it's my duty to protect your innocence from all these scarlet women, with my body if I have to!"

"How did you ever convince my mother that you would make a good godfather?" Harry asked, amused.

"James spent a month convincing her and she only agreed to it after Alice Longbottom agreed to be the godmother." Sirius admitted.

XXXXX

Nymphadora Tonks had the look of a woman on a mission as she barged through the front door of Potter Manor as if she owned it. In her hands was a plastic black bag that betrayed no sign of what it contained aside from its boxy shape.

"Oi, Sirius!" She hollered. "Where are you?"

A short time later, the incumbent Lord Black arrived, followed by a curly haired blonde that looked vaguely familiar.

"Going after the young ones are we?" Tonks snarked. The girl looked fresh out of Hogwarts.

"You're one to talk." Sirius snarked right back.

"That doesn't count, Harry's a guy." She countered.

Sirius opened his mouth to retort, only to close it and shrug. It might be hypocritical, but the unwritten rules of the Bro Code stated that the only acceptable response to a guy scoring with a hot older woman was 'nice!'. There were no provisions for age, which meant that Tonks was correct in saying that it didn't count.

"Well, Sirius? Are you going to introduce me to your young lady?" Tonks asked with a smirk.

"She's not _my_ young lady." Sirius stated. "This is Penelope Clearwater. Harry hired her as a personal assistant because we're both too lazy to deal with the mail his fame generates. She just moved in a couple of days ago."

"Hi." Penny greeted, the remnants of an embarrassed blush on her face from the insinuation that she was Sirius' girlfriend. She was honestly surprised to learn that Harry was in a relationship with someone like Nymphadora Tonks. The two of them just seemed so different.

Tonks' eyebrows climbed up her forehead in surprise at that little revelation. Had she been a more insecure person, she would have been very displeased and jealous at the thought of having another woman living with her boyfriend. As it was, she simply decided to take it at face value. If Harry was having some hanky panky on the side, she'd find out and react accordingly, but until then she'd be cool about it.

"Wotcher."

"Harry's in the basement." Sirius informed.

"I know, he told me he'd be working on something today." Tonks said with a nod. "What I need is for you to not tell him that I'm here and keep him away from his room if he leaves his cave ahead of schedule."

"Why?" Sirius asked, a bit baffled.

"Because it's the prat's birthday and like hell am I going to let him get away with not celebrating it."

"You'll have a fight on your hands getting him to celebrate." Sirius advised. "I wanted to throw a party for him, but he threatened to send me to a dog shelter if I tried it. Not the most festive sort, that godson of mine."

"That wasn't the kind of celebration I had in mind." Tonks smirked.

"Oh, I see." Sirius smirked back. "We'll do you one better then and leave so that you have the house to yourselves."

"I suppose I could go visit my parents." Penny agreed, reflecting on the strangeness of still being an eighteen-year old virgin while her fourteen-year old employer seemed to have a very active sex life. Percy had made some unsubtle hints about taking their relationship to the next level, but she hadn't been comfortable going that far. She'd been embarrassed by her own prudishness in the face of both sides of the British society being very sexually open these days, but now she was glad that she hadn't slept with the ginger jerk.

A short while later a still smirking Metamorphmagus stood alone in the master bedroom. She pulled a distinctly muggle style laminated cardboard box out of the black bag she'd brought with her and her smirk widened in anticipation of putting the goodies in there to use. Some assembly was required, but it shouldn't be too hard.

Especially since the hard part, the one that would have potentially required professional help or power tools, could be solved with a little bit of transfiguration.

XXXXX

Harry furrowed his brow in thought as he examined the bracelet in his hands. It was a pretty thing made of silver, but that wasn't what had him so interested in it. The magic in it was the real beauty.

Sirius had told him that it was of goblin make, which he could readily believe as the enchantments on it were like nothing he'd ever seen.

Human made magical items had magic layered over the item, sometimes to wondrous complexity if it had been done by a particularly skilled caster. This goblin made bracelet however, had magic woven _into_ it. The goblins had obviously done the enchanting during the actual forging process.

Harry imagined that this was far more difficult than merely enchanting a completed item, but it was also far more impressive and effective. With time, effort, skill and knowledge , human made enchantments could be undone. Not so with goblin made magical items. He couldn't even tell where the magic ended and the item began.

He wanted this knowledge intensely, but he knew that the goblins would be as jealously protective about that secret as wizards were about wandlore. It was such a shame that both sides were blind idiots, clinging to old hatreds instead of working together, but he wasn't surprised. If the goblins were as obsessed with the past as the purebloods, then it was no wonder that all they could do was carp on about the old days and the old ways instead of looking to the future.

Well no matter. The goblins had needed to figure it out for themselves at some point too, so there was nothing preventing him from doing the same. Whether he could manage the same feat or even get around to it with all the other stuff he had going on was another matter entirely, but it wasn't impossible.

Harry arched his back in a stretch and groaned at the satisfying popping noises his spine made. He'd been hunching over the desk in his private basement workshop too long. Again. A quick check of the time confirmed that he'd spent most of the day down here. Again. Sirius was probably going to worry about him for no reason. Again.

Might as well go upstairs and relax a bit, maybe read a book or meditate on his Animagus form a bit. That was always a good way to unwind a bit and he wasn't in the mood to try disenchanting another item.

Giving his armpits a sniff, he decided that a bath was in order before that. If there was one thing about his younger body that he missed, it was the lack of offensive odours.

As he made his way out of the basement, Harry paid little mind to how silent the house was. That was how it usually was since there were only three people living in it aside from the ninja silent house elves and the only one of them that was a noisy sort frequently left in order to find himself a willing bed partner.

He was just approaching the door to his room when said door suddenly opened to reveal his girlfriend.

"Dora?" He asked in bemusement, wondering when she'd showed up.

"Harry, hi!" She chirped too cheerfully to be for real.

"What were you doing in my room?"

"Nothing."

"Really?"

Tonks huffed at the rank disbelief in his tone, admitting to herself that it did indeed look suspicious. "Okay fine, so it was something."

"What was it?" Harry asked again, now amused.

The Metamorphmagus sauntered over to him sexily, her approach somewhat ruined when she nearly tripped over her own feet, but she pretended that it didn't happen. Then she went around him and placed her hands over his eyes and whispered into his ear.

"It's a surprise. Want to see it?"

"I would love nothing more." He replied, going along with her games.

She proceeded to lead him to his own room while keeping her hands over his eyes. The whole thing felt a bit ridiculous since they were _right there_ , but Harry figured that there was nothing to be gained by pointing that out.

"Alright, you ready?" She asked once they were inside.

"As ready as I'll ever be." He replied, not bothering to hide his amusement.

"Happy birthday!" She cried and removed her hands.

Harry stared at the new addition to his room. The ceiling had been transfigured so that the wood paneling had holes through which metal clamps had been attached to. And hanging from the clamps was...

"A sex swing? You bought me a sex swing?" Harry asked with some incredulity, having not expected this in the least. He generally didn't care one whit about his birthdays, but this kind of present he could get used to.

"No." Tonks denied with a straight face.

"Are you sure? Because that looks like a sex swing."

"I bought _us_ a sex swing, so you'd better not use it without me."

"Aaah." He said back in realization, figuring that she must have met Penny and this was some kind of subtle female territory marking ritual or something. "You'd better show me the ropes then."

"What an appropriate thing to say." She smirked and began removing her clothes.

XXXXX

It was a sunny summer day free of England's notoriously wet weather and many people were taking the opportunity to enjoy it.

Among these many people were a trio of college girls who had elected to save money instead of going on vacation to a beach somewhere. The sunny weather was too perfect to waste and they had decided to have an impromptu picnic in Hyde Park.

Their day took a bit of an odd turn when a pure black raven landed in their midst and looked at them with beady black eyes surrounded by strangely bright green sclera.

"Is that a raven?" The blonde of the trio asked, sounding a bit awed at having the large black bird just drop in on them like this.

"It is." The brunnete confirmed.

"I wonder where it came from?" The redhead wondered. She was no bird expert, but she did know that most birds would not simply land this close to humans.

"Hello." The raven croaked.

"It spoke!" Blonde exclaimed in shock.

"Ravens can mimic sounds like parrots." Brunette explained.

"Wouldn't that mean that it was someone's pet though?" Redhead asked, looking around as if she expected someone to come collect the bird at any moment.

"Hello." The raven repeated.

"This is so cool." Blonde said with a grin. "What's that line about a raven in a poem again?"

"From Edgar Allan Poe?" Brunette asked.

"Yeah, him." Blonde agreed.

"Something about a raven quoting 'nevermore'" Redhead said.

"Nevermore." The raven croaked.

All three girls stared at it in surprise and then giggled.

"I guess we're not the first ones to think of that." Blonde said, still grinning.

The other two did not respond, because at that moment the feathery visitor waddled over to Blonde and stared intently at her sizable chest. Or more accurately, at the topmost button of her white blouse.

"Shiny." The raven proclaimed.

"I guess it wants your buttons." Brunette said, very amused as she watched the black bird try to pry off the button.

"Or maybe it's a pervert." Redhead added, equally amused.

The raven ignored them with lordly disdain as it continued trying to claim the button.

"I'd give you the button, but I kind of need it." Blonde said, also amused. The blouse showed enough cleavage as it was.

The raven continued to struggle against the button for a minute longer before apparently deciding that it wasn't worth the trouble. Defeated but undaunted, it moved over to Brunette and started tugging on the shiny metallic zipper of her jeans.

"That settles it, that bird is _definitely_ a pervert." Redhead stated, vastly amused as she watched the raven attempting to de-pants her embarrassed friend.

"Hey, stop that." Brunette scolded, not wanting to actually attempt physically remove the raven for fear of hurting it.

Much to her surprise, the raven did actually stop and made a croaking noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

"You're a cheeky little bugger, aren't you?" She asked.

"Nevermore." The raven croaked and began pushing its head at her palm.

"I think he wants be petted" Blonde suggested.

Bemused, Brunette did exactly that. Much to her surprise, the raven visibly preened at the attention. In a matter of moments all three young women were gently petting it.

"Hey, look out. There's a dog coming over here." Redhead warned a minute later, warily watching the approach of an intimidatingly large black dog.

"I think you'd better go." Brunette told the raven as if it could actually understand them, not wanting it to get hurt.

Quoth the raven. "Nevermore."

All three women gave it queer looks and stood up, not wanting to be so close to the ground with that dog approaching.

The raven stayed fearlessly on the ground.

Apparently with good reason, as the dog simply stopped once it reached them and gave a gentle woof.

The raven made a short flight and planted itself on the dog's back so that it was looking forward.

"Away." The raven commanded and the dog obeyed. Both avian rider and canine mount quickly vanished in the nearby woods.

"Did that seriously just happen?" Blonde asked, sounding more than a bit stunned.

The other two merely nodded mutely, still staring at the spot where the two had vanished.

XXXXX

Sirius and Harry transformed back into human form as soon as they were deep enough in the woods and immediately dissolved into hilarity.

"Did you see the look on their faces?" Sirius managed to say through his laughter, barely coherent due to his mirth. It was so bad that he wasn't even making any sound, just convulsing wildly with his mouth wide open as if he was howling hysterically.

Harry merely nodded, similarly incapacitated with tears streaming from his eyes due to the force of his amusement.

The two Animagi spent a good five minutes regaining control of themselves, as they would burst into another bout of laughter every time they caught sight of each other.

"We still need to give you a proper Marauder name now that you're an Animagus." Sirius was finally able to say, still red faced and bright eyed.

"Sure, whatever." Harry shrugged. He didn't particularly care about the whole Marauder thing, as he was pretty sure that they'd been bullies as much as pranksters, but it made Sirius happy so he'd let the man name his raven form.

He'd been so excited ever since he'd mastered the transformation after all.

 _Flashback_

 _"Alright, I guess you might as well attempt the transformation." Sirius said in both pride and resignation. "It's insanely early, but you know your form, you know as much about ravens as you're likely to without being one and you've got better awareness over your own magic than James and I ever did. If anyone is going to get this right, it'll be you."_

 _"Any last minute bits of advice?" Harry asked not really expecting anything._

 _"Don't hesitate." Sirius said simply. "This isn't something that you can do slowly. It'll feel strange the first time, but your magic will know what to do so don't struggle against it. If you get scared by the transformation and fight it your body will seize up and you'll die. If you don't accept the animal within, your magic will turn on itself and you'll go insane."_

 _"Right, let's do this." Harry acknowledged with a nod._

 _He settled himself into the now familiar meditation, seeking the animal inside. The presence of the raven in his mind had become increasingly stronger the closer he came to mastering the transformation, until he felt the pressing need to spread his wings and fly._

 _He almost didn't notice when the transformation started, only alerted by the shifting of bones and organs. It was surprisingly painless, but definitely strange, as Sirius had warned him it would be. It was deeply uncomfortable feeling his bones become hollow and frail, his limbs spindly and weak, his teeth recede and his overall size diminish, but he pushed ahead despite the instincts of his body telling him that this wasn't right._

 _Even stranger was the mental aspect. Previously, the raven had been a notable presence in the back of his mind somewhere, but now it grew larger and stronger with alarming speed, overtaking his human consciousness. Sirius' warning fresh in his mind, he didn't try to fight or subjugate it and instead simply allowed it to happen. The raven was part of him now after all and fighting against yourself never turned out well._

 _Fortunately, the sudden flood of avian instinct subsided quickly and gave way once again to human thought, though definitely tinted towards birdlike and his emotions seemed oddly muted._

 _"Harry? You okay?" Sirius asked, looming over him like a giant._

 _Harry croaked back an affirmation, somehow not feeling overly strange or awkward in his new form. Even the new field of vision didn't feel too strange. Realizing that Sirius could not possibly understand him, he nodded his head._

 _"Amazing." Sirius said, much impressed. "A month and you've completely mastered the Animagus transformation from start to finish. I've never heard of anyone doing it anywhere close to this fast."_

 _Harry croaked again and puffed up his chest proudly._

 _"You think you can manage to get on my arm?" Sirius asked, offering the appendage in question as a perch._

 _Harry didn't think about it too much and simply lifted off the ground with a flap of his wings. His landing was a bit shaky but successful. He found that as long as he didn't think about what he was doing when moving, it was pretty instinctual, just like being human really._

 _"Well aren't you a handsome bird?" Sirius asked, giving his transformed godson a little scratch on the head._

 _Harry puffed up again._

 _"Full of yourself too." Sirius teased._

 _Harry decided to try out another thing that ravens were capable of. It took a bit of doing to figure out the avian vocal cords, but it wasn't as hard as he thought it might have been._

 _"Cunt." The raven Harry croaked._

 _Sirius gave him a look that was partly offended, but mostly just jealous._

 _"You lucky bastard." He grumbled. "Do you have any idea how many pranks you could do with a talking Animagus form? In fact, we've got to use this right away!"_

 _End Flashback_

"Alright, I've got it!" Sirius announced, breaking Harry out of his thoughts. "I dub thee Messr Blackbeak, son of Prongs."

"Really? Blackbeak?" Harry asked in a deadpan tone, staring at his godfather with an equally deadpan look. "How...original."

"It's perfect." Sirius insisted. "Besides, it's not like the other Marauder names were terribly original either. James was Prongs because he had antlers, I was Padfoot because my feet have pads, Wormtail had a wormlike tail, Remus is Moony because he's a werewolf and you have a black beak."

"Right, because I'm the only bird with a black beak." Harry said sarcastically.

"I'm not the only dog with pads on his feet either, so what's your point?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine, we'll call my raven form Blackbeak if it's so important to you."

"Good." Sirius nodded firmly, looking terribly pleased with himself. "Go forth and prank the world Messr Blackbeak."

"We've literally just done a prank." Harry pointed out, not being as prank inclined as his godfather.

"You can never have too many pranks." Sirius argued but quickly sobered up a bit. "How are you feeling though? Noticed any strange urges yet?"

Harry frowned and thought over the day. It didn't take him long to identify several things that he was fairly certain wouldn't have popped up if he hadn't transformed. "I seem to have gained a strange fascination with shiny objects and a dislike of closed spaces."

"Not unexpected." Sirius said with a nod. "The dislike of closed spaces at any rate, no bird would like those. You might notice others over time, but like I said, it'll be subtle."

XXXXX

Gorefist glared at the five humans currently cluttering his office. That was five more than he would have preferred.

"What do you want this time, Potter?" He demanded rudely. The professional relationship between the Potter account manager and the Potter Heir had long since gone past the point of politeness.

"I need to open another vault." Harry replied, unperturbed by the goblin's tone. Not only did goblins dislike humans as a matter of course, they also had little use for politeness in the first place. "The deposit has to be ten thousand galleons and all five of us need to have full access to it, but transactions or withdrawals larger than two hundred galleons in one sitting or one thousand per month have to be approved by me."

"Names?" Gorefist grunted.

Harry rattled off the names of the four girls. "I'll want the keys locked to their use of course."

"That will cost you ten galeons. Each."

"I think you mean five galleons each." Harry smirked.

Gorefist glowered back. "Nine."

"Six."

"Eight."

"Five and I won't pay attention if an extra ten goes missing from my vault."

Gorefist considered the blatant bribe for a moment and gave a grudging nod. "Agreed."

"I'll also want monthly bank statements to be sent to Penelope Clearwater."

The four girls twitched in surprise at hearing the name of their former yearmate, but stayed silent.

"Fine." Gorefist grunted again and sneered toothily. "I will send a goblin to the lobby to escort you to key manufacture, now get out of my office and die in a fire."

"I hope your mother gets eaten by a dragon." Harry shot back and motioned for the wide eyed girls to follow him out of the office.

"Fucking goblins." He grumbled once they'd left Gorefist's office.

"Is that…..normal?" Bryanna asked hesitantly, more than a bit perturbed at the hostility between Harry and his account manager. She'd never had any dealings with goblins aside from the tellers, which were terse but not so blatantly hostile.

"Pretty much." Harry sighed. "Goblins have never gotten along with humans and now that we're in an enforced peace all we can do is hurl insults and empty threats at each other. It wouldn't be so bad if the little bastards didn't insist on being as antagonistic as possible. I'd bet my last knut that if the treaty between us is somehow voided, the first thing that the goblins will do is start sharpening their axes."

"But….why?" Jade asked, clearly baffled about the whole thing. "Surely we'd have learned to live together by now?"

Harry snorted at the optimism. "We can't even live with each other, what makes you think we can live with a whole other species?"

"Since when does Clearwater work for you?" Tiana interjected speculatively, having little interest in wizard-goblin relations.

"Since the end of July. I ran into her in the Ministry when I was picking up my OWL results and offered her a job as my personal assistant." Harry answered with a shrug, not elaborating on the issue.

The girls shared knowing looks, easily able to guess that the muggleborn former Ravenclaw had run headfirst into the discrimination that had led them to concocting the 'Potter Project' in the first place, though she'd apparently lucked out by befriending Harry. Good on her.

"I'll expect you to send her monthly finance reports so that she can compare it to the Gringotts bank statements."

"Alright." Bryana nodded, ignoring the way that Jade and Isabel stiffened in offense at the insinuation that they would cheat him. Honestly, Harry had just handed them a ten thousand galleon loan with no interest attached to it. They could do with being a bit less prickly over the fact that he wanted to keep an eye on his investment.

"And get in touch with her when you find a venue that you like. I'll negotiate for it on your behalf."

"Will do." Tiana agreed easily, knowing that the Boy-Who-Lived would definitely get a better deal than an unknown group of barely-above-muggleborn and fresh out of Hogwarts witches. The unfairness grated as much as it always had, but they'd learned to be pragmatic.

"Alright, that's that then." Harry breathed out, feeling uncommonly tired from all this business dealing. He'd have much rather spent the day reading a book or tinkering with some magical item, or maybe flying in his raven form. Or making use of Dora's birthday present.

At least he had Penny to take care of most of the tedium now. Negotiating was bad enough, but keeping track of expenses was something that he knew he didn't have the patience for, especially with the retarded currency that magicals used. Honestly, 17 sickles to a galleon and 29 knuts to a sickle? If that wasn't proof that goblins hated wizards, then he didn't know what was.

He knew that Penny had never been fond of computers, but maybe he should send her to a class on using Microsoft Excel and get her one of those solar powered laptops? Maybe even check around for a dedicated bookkeeping program? It would be beyond cruel to expect her to keep track of his finances by hand. She was getting a calculator at the very least, if she didn't have one already that was.

XXXXX

Tonks having breakfast at Potter Manor had become a familiar scene over the summer. Not only did she not feel like apparating to her own flat after Harry wore her out with his rune bolstered virility, but the king sized bed was also far more comfortable than her own much smaller one and a house elf prepared breakfast was superior to cereal in every way.

She, Harry and Sirius generally spent this time sniping at each other good naturedly or jeering at the tripe writen in the _Daily Prophet_. Penny had felt a bit awkward about the whole thing at first but had eventually become part of the strange dynamic, though a more quiet part.

"Oh Haaaary~." Tonks sing-songed, looking at her boyfriend over the latest issue of _Witch Weekly_ with laughing dark eyes.

"What?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow from his place at the head of the table, wondering what she'd seen in that rag that merited this kind of amusement.

"It says here that you were seen in Gringotts with a gaggle of four witches. Inquiring minds want to know whether you need four mistresses to satisfy your dark lusts." Tonks informed him, obviously holding back laughter.

Penny nearly choked on her orange juice. So _that's_ what that interview request that she'd refused a couple of days ago had been about.

"You keep falling asleep on me." Harry shrugged with a smile. "A man has needs."

"Preach it, brother." Sirius contributed, nodding sagely.

"Prats" Tonks huffed. It was true that Harry was getting progressively better at turning her into a pile of mush as he learned which buttons to push, and he'd been no slouch the first time. "So were you actually there or are the reporters making stuff up again?"

"Yes, I was actually there, but not to pay off a gaggle of mistresses." Harry paused in thought at this and amended his statement. "Well, two of them could be counted as former mistresses I suppose, if you stretch the definition, but we were there on business."

"The ones that you've been 'honing your technique' on the past year?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. He'd told her about them when she asked where he'd gotten so experienced at his age.

"That'd be them." He confirmed and then took on a teasing tone. "You jealous?"

"Maybe I want my own mistresses." Tonks leered playfully.

"We can share mine if you want." Harry offered just as playfully. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind another participant of variable gender. Just keep any cocks you might decide to grow away from my orifices and we're golden."

"Aw, but that's the fun part." Tonks complained.

"Sorry, Dora, but we'll need another girl if you want to satisfy your futa fetishes." Harry told her seriously.

Sirius lost the battle against his amusement at this point and burst into hysterical giggles.

Penny could only shake her head at the conversation. She'd never have believed that the sullen and anti-social first year Harry had once been would grow up like this.

"I do not have any futa fetishes!" Tonks protested. That thing with the Asian witch in her sixth year didn't count! That girl had been _weird_ , always looking flushed and out of breath whenever she asked about the limits of her Metamorph abilities.

"And yet you know what a futa fetish is." Harry countered.

"So do you!"

"Ah, but I'm not the Metamorphmagus, or should we call you a Metamorphallus?"

Sirius started giggling again.

"I'll Metamorphallus you right up the arse." Tonks muttered.

"What did I just say about keeping away from my orifices?" Harry tried to say sternly, but couldn't keep his lips from twitching into a grin.

"Fine." She sniffed disdainfully. "It's your loss anyway. You'll never know the glories of penetration."

"I think I can manage to stay content with doing the penetrating." Harry said back wryly.

There was a short silence before Tonks spoke up again. "So just to be clear, you're not still sleeping with them, right?"

"No, I'm not still sleeping with them." He assured her and paused in thought for a moment. "Do you want to meet them? I'm sure I could convince them to come over and get you measured for some custom clothing."

Tonks thought the offer over. She was sure that he was telling her the truth, but she appreciated the gesture he was making. Being a Metamorphmagus was awesome, but it did come with the unfortunate caveat that almost all of her past boyfriends that she'd slept with had inevitably asked her to transform into someone else. A little roleplay was okay, but it was a fine line between that and being used as a means to live out someone's fantasies. Harry hadn't asked her to use her abilities for anything of the sort so far aside from some minor ideas like making her clitoris bigger, which indicated either a lack of desire to do so or uncommon intelligence by leaving it up to her. She was betting on the latter.

And now he was offering her the chance to speak to the women he'd spent a large portion of the past year sleeping with. That could be…informative.

The chance for custom made clothing shouldn't be squandered either.

XXXXX

Tonks was feeling tentatively positive about Bryanna and Tiana. They seemed like a very practical and down to earth sort, though their enthusiasm for a shapeshifting human mannequin was a bit disturbing. She didn't think that her Metamorph ability had ever gotten such a workout as they asked her to change body proportions and colorations to test what would work and what wouldn't.

The talk about Harry had also been surprisingly frank and absent of awkwardness. The two younger witches did not seem to have any feelings attached to him other than friendliness. It had been exactly as Harry had described it, a business arrangement that had turned into casual sex.

"We wouldn't have minded keeping it up." Bryanna was saying. "He was a good way to scratch an itch and wasn't a jerk about it when he easily could have been. Since he never showed any interest in getting into an actual relationship, we figured that he'd stay available, so we were pretty surprised when he turned us down last month."

"So much for not getting into a relationship." Tiana snickered and then sighed. "I guess it's back to toys and that buzzer spell."

Tonks knew about the buzzer spell. It was one of the things she'd put on Mr. Purple. She had to agree that it wasn't as good as having Harry go down on her though.

"So he turned down a three-way for me?" She had to admit that that was more than she would have expected a month ago. "I'll have to reward him for that, especially since he didn't brag about it."

"If you want to reward him, all you need to do is make yourself look fifteen or twenty years older." Bryanna advised.

"Why?" Tonks asked, puzzled.

"Harry's got a thing for older women. I'm pretty sure that he was plotting out ways to seduce Professor Vector before he met you." Tiana answered with a smirk.

Tonks had to snicker at that. She could easly imagine Harry pacing his room with that broody look on his face as he planned ways to turn his Arithmancy lesson into a different sort of lesson entirely.

Maybe she could reward him for his faithfulness with a detention…..

XXXXX

"Are you ready for your detention, Mr. Potter?"

The question snapped Harry out of his focus on the book in front of him and he looked towards his girlfriend in bafflement.

Then he continued to stare. It was definitely Tonks, but the slight wrinkles at the corners of her mouth and eyes made her look a good deal older. Harry would be hard pressed to explain why he found those hints of age attractive, but he did. The new look was further complemented by a rather severe but tight robe and a less playful hairstyle than she normally preferred.

"Dora?" He asked in surprise.

She tsked and started walking over to him. "That's Ms. Tonks to you, Mr. Potter. Now prepare yourself for detention."

Harry was catching on and had to fight to keep a grin off his face. He still had no idea how he was supposed to prepare himself for detention though.

The question was answered when she waved her wand and caused his clothes to fly off of him until he was naked in the chair. Then she proceeded to straddle him and reveal that there was nothing under that robe.

A little wriggling later and she had impaled herself on him, after which she leaned in close to whisper into his ear. "Detention is now in session."

 _Bryanna and Tiana put her up to this._ Harry realized. He was going to have to do something nice for them.

XXXXX

Harry appeared in an out of the way alley and promptly chucked the empty bottle of Guiness that had been turned into a portkey into a nearby garbage bin. Someone in the Department of Magical Transportation clearly thought they were being clever by using a bottle of Irish beer as a portkey to Ireland. Harry was impressed just by the fact that whoever had made that portkey actually knew about a muggle beer brand.

He and Penny had tracked down the former manager for the Potter vineyards to this Irish village, now he just had to find the right place. It was one of those places that was big enough that not everyone knew each other, but still small enough to be called 'sleepy'. In other words, the type of place where a few magicals could vanish into the crowd with relative ease as long as they weren't incredibly stupid.

He didn't want to be here at all, but it had to be done and he'd put it off long enough already. He had to find out what exactly Parkinson had done to usurp Potter business interests and this was his best bet. The pottery business had been quite small and more of a nod to the family name than anything else. The manager for that one had left Wizarding Britain a long time ago and would have been difficult to find, which was probably intentional.

A fifteen minute walk later and he was approaching an unassuming looking house that had spells layered over it to make it even more unassuming. There were even aversion spells targeting magicals present, but Harry ignored them and knocked on the door.

A short while later, a confused looking man that looked to be somewhere in his fifties opened the door, which meant that he was probably a couple of decades older since he was a wizard, though he was dressed in regular clothing. The confusion probably stemmed from the fact that he'd knocked on his door despite the spells that were meant to discourage exactly that.

"Ossian O'Sullivan?" Harry inquired.

The man looked a bit startled at hearing his name, but then took a closer look at his visitor. "Harry Potter. I thought I might be seeing you on my doorstep one day, though I hadn't been expecting you for a few more years at least. Well come on in, we can't very well have this conversation on the porch."

Harry did so, inwardly feeling rather amused by the old man's brusque manner. Charlus had warned him about that, but it was something else to experience it himself. He was led into a comfortable living room and told to have a seat while his host went to grab a few drinks.

He took a look around while O'Sullivan was absent, noting the mix of still pictures and magical animated ones. Aside from Ossian himself, there were also pictures of two boys at various ages that must be his sons and a woman that was presumably his wife. Judging by her absence in the house, Harry guessed that she was dead and determined to avoid any talk about family.

The old man came back a minute later and Harry ironically found himself once again holding a bottle of Guiness. He clearly didn't care about any underage drinking laws.

"Muggle beer." O'Sullivan explained unnecessarily. "Always found Firewhiskey too strong for casual drinking and Butterbeer too sweet. You'd think that wizards would die if they adopted some moderation with the way they avoid it."

"You don't have to tell me twice, I was raised by muggles. Nearly did a spit take the first time I tried pumpkin juice." Harry said with a shrug, deciding not to mention that he wasn't too fond of beer either. No need to come off as whiny.

"You'll be wanting to know why the Potters lost their business." O'Sullivan stated, changing the subject abruptly.

"I'm fairly sure that there was some foul play involved, but I would like the details." Harry said evenly, feeling oddly pleased by the straight to the point approach.

"Hah!" The much older wizard chortled, apparently amused. "If you've guessed that much without even talking to me then you're already twice the man your father was, at least as far as brains are concerned."

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned, puzzled.

"James Potter wasn't stupid, but he was a brat." O'Sullivan stated bluntly. "Never cared to learn about any of his responsibilities and only wanted to run around with those friends of his and chase girls. He didn't really start growing up until he was out of Hogwarts. Can't really blame him I suppose. Charlus and Dorea were already getting old by the time they had him and pampered the boy too much."

Harry had known that his father had been something of an entitled brat. He'd also known that Charlus and Dorea had been approaching grandparent age by the time they'd had him. He hadn't known that they'd spoiled him however, but he supposed that he shouldn't be surprised that they'd omitted that little detail.

"So he wasn't prepared to take the Lordship when Charlus and Dorea died?" He asked.

"Didn't want to either." O'Sullivan grunted. "Too busy listening to Dumbledore's shite and risking his neck fighting Voldemort."

Harry had to raise an eyebrow at finally hearing someone say the dreaded V-word. He'd just about despaired of finding any traces of spine among the magical population.

"Don't get me wrong. It was brave of him to fight that lunatic head on, but stupid. He could've done more by convincing those feckin' gobshites in the Wizengamot to stop sitting on their arses and seein' that Voldemort isn't going to make things better." The old man ranted, his Irish accent getting thicker in his agitation.

"Not that this isn't interesting, but how does it relate to the Potter business?" Harry steered the conversation back on track, finding it personally unlikely that his father could have managed that one even if he had been politically inclined.

"Right, got a bit off topic there." O'Sullivan nodded. "Charlus was dead and James didn't want to deal with anything until the war was over, so he delegated authority to everyone he could instead."

"Ah." Harry said, pinching the bridge of his nose and wondering if his father had really been that oblivious. The Potters wouldn't be the first House to take a beating because a new Lord made stupid decisions. House Black was a prime example of mismanagement; A magnificent manor torn down and traded for a much smaller townhouse in London on the whims of one Lord Black, a huge chunk of gold given to the Ministry by Sirius' own grandfather for the dubius benefits of an Order of Merlin First Class, the whole family nearly wiped out in their fervor to support Voldemort and lastly, Sirius' decision to deliberately let the family name go extinct out of spite for those long dead.

"Yes. Ah." The older man repeated flatly. "I tried telling him it was a bad idea but he wouldn't listen, just signed over authority for me to 'do whatever I needed to do' and apparated away before I could get a word in edgewise. Then he went into hiding with his wife and word got out that I was making decisions that only Lord Potter should have been making. Then one day that streak of piss Parkinson showed up and made it clear that I should sell the business to him for less than a quarter of what it was worth and get out of the country. He wasn't very specific, but I know a threat when I hear one. With your father in hiding and the Ministry looking ready to surrender I was short on choices, so I sold and made plans to move my family to the continent."

"You did the right thing." Harry sighed. His father and Sirius really had been two peas in a pod, shortsighted, irresponsible and reckless. Sirius was still dodging responsibility to this day and James Potter had as good as painted a target on the man's back.

"Damn right I did. Charlus was my friend, but I wasn't going to risk my family to protect Potter business interests." O'Sullivan grunted but seemed pleased to hear it anyway. "Course', then Voldemort got himself blown up going after you and the Potters were suddenly martyrs. Nobody would have touched their stuff after that, but Parkinson had already gotten what he wanted by then and it was all nice and legal too."

"For a given value of legal." Harry muttered, making the older man snort in agreement. He finished what was left of the beer and stood up. "Thanks for telling me about this."

"Sure." The other man said. "Throw a couple bone breakers in self-defense at Parkinson's legs for me when you get around to it."

Harry's lips twitched in morbid amusement. The Irish wizard must have seen Skeeter's article on the Pettigrew debacle and drawn his own conclusions. He seemed to be under the impression that Harry was on a revenge trip of some sort. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Right." O'Sullivan managed not to sound _too_ sarcastic.

XXXXX

"I don't wanna go." Sirius pouted.

"Stop being such a big baby, Sirius." Harry sighed, wondering yet again at his godfather's capacity for being childish.

"But it's going to be so _boring_." Sirius whined.

"Yes, _I know_." Harry said back irritably. "I'll agree to try casting a few wandless prank spells if you agree to stop your bellyaching." Why did he sometimes feel like a single parent when dealing with his godfather?

"Deal!" Sirius agreed, instantly cheered up. He'd turn his godson into a prankster yet!

"But only if I think I can get away without anyone figuring out that it was me." Harry provisioned.

"Fine." Sirius conceded. It was always better when the prankster remained undetected anyway.

XXXXX

 **Yes, I know that not much happened in this one either. The next one should be more eventful though.**


	14. Chapter 14

**And the 14th chapter is finally arrived. I got a bit distracted by various stuff, which is the cause of the delay.**

 **Extra special thanks as always to Joe Lawyer for giving helpful advice and making sure the chapter was polished up a bit before being posted.**

XXXXX

Harry and Sirius were deposited by portkey on a stretch of misty moor near to where the Quidditch World Cup was taking place, both of them sporting identical looks of sullen resignation.

In front of them were two grumpy and tired looking wizards, dressed in what Harry assumed they thought was normal non-magical wear but was in reality fit to be the end result of a weekend drinking binge that nobody could quite remember.

"Potter and Black?" One of them asked, holding out his hand for the portkey.

"Yes." Sirius confirmed, handing over a badly mangled slinky.

"About a quarter of a mile walk that way, first field you come to." The other said, pointing in the correct direction. "Site manager's called Mr. Roberts. He's a muggle so watch what you say, Obliviators are being run ragged keeping him in the dark."

The last was said with some humor, causing Harry to frown with disapproval. He knew that obliviations could cause brain damage if done shoddily and he didn't think that having it done over and over again was too healthy either. It would have been a lot smarter to just let the man in on the secret and then remove the salient details from his mind at the end of it instead of applying repeated memory wipes. Come to think of it, it would have also been a lot smarter to find a spot where the muggle landowner could be paid to go on an extended vacation for however long the World Cup lasted.

Admittedly, his frown had more to do with the newest bit of evidence on the Ministry's ham handed approach than it did with concern for someone he didn't know. He'd never had much of a reason to develop an especially strong sense of empathy for strangers.

"Look at the bright side, at least you don't have to wear robes." Sirius tried to point out the silver lining as they set off, knowing his godson's preference for less bulky muggle wear.

"The bright side would be someone casting Fiendfyre on the damn stadium." Harry refused to be cheered up. The Quidditch World Cup combined sports, crowds and politics. Three things that he disliked in ascending increments of disdain.

"That would be pretty bright." Sirius quipped.

"This might actually be one of the few occasions where puns would improve a situation."

They came upon Mr. Roberts a short while later were directed to their camping site without issue. They also paid without issue and looked perfectly normal, which was apparently abnormal enough for the man to comment.

"Gotta say that you're the most normal ones I've seen all morning." Roberts said. "I had an old man come through here in a woman's night gown just a short while ago that tried to pay me with these great gold coins."

Harry and Sirius exchanged looks that communicated volumes of exasperation with their fellow wizards, who were clearly too lazy to put in the two minutes of effort required to research appropriate muggle attire.

"He probably had Alzheimer's." Harry said blandly, knowing that it was probably a wasted effort to explain the many oddities the man had no doubt seen.

"Might have." Roberts agreed and waved them on.

Harry shook his head, suspecting that the man was going to be obliviated again soon.

"What's Alzheimer's?" Sirius asked.

"Nothing you need to worry about."

Sirius let it go and they soon made it towards the designated camp site. Sirius' mood picked up a bit at the festive mood and good cheer hanging about the place, his extroverted nature coming to the fore despite his reluctance to actually come to the World Cup due to the politics involved. Harry on the other hand, became even more sour. The brightly colored tents, loud conversations and squealing children were more or less the exact opposite of his conception of a good time.

He'd sink into an Occlumency trance later and drown his irritation in Dark, but for now he indulged himself by scowling minutely at everything around him.

Some of the tents were so egregiously magical that it was no wonder the Obliviators had their hands full, despite Ministry instructions to appear as muggle as possible. Similarly, the people were dressed in a hodgepodge of clothes ranging from sensibly mundane to sad attempts at such and all the way to those who outright disregarded those instructions and showed up in robes. He was somehow not surprised to see that the obvious foreigners were the ones that would most easily blend in. He'd always gotten the feeling that Britain was among the more backward magical nations, if not _the_ most backward.

He noted that there were quite a few foreigners present. The borders of magical nations were quite a bit more flexible than that of their muggle counterparts and did not always coincide with them, but it was for the most part close enough. He saw flags from all over Europe, some from America despite the reputed bad blood between them and Britain, several that he didn't recognize but guessed must be from Africa or India given the skin tones of the people under them.

His eyes roved over a pair of wizards engaged in casual conversation and then froze there in confusion.

One of the wizards was not a wizard.

He was wearing robes and stood in front of a tent with a chimney of all things, but Harry's magesight saw only the lack of presence distinctive of the non-magical.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Sirius asked, confused by his godson's sudden stop.

Harry snapped out of his confusion and turned towards him, lying on sheer reflex. "Nothing, thought I saw something."

"You sure? You looked pretty stunned." Sirius was clearly skeptical.

"Yes, I'm sure. Let's go set up that damned tent." He didn't know what a muggle masquerading as a wizard was doing here and intended to keep quiet about it until he could get more information.

They arrived at the spot reserved for them soon after and set up the tent with a few waves of a wand, neither one having much desire to bother doing it the normal way.

"I'm going to take a walk around the area." Harry announced once they were done.

Now it was Sirius that looked stunned. "Really? I thought you were going to stay in the tent and sulk until the game started."

"I changed my mind." Harry shrugged.

"Now I know that something's wrong." Sirius said with a frown. "You didn't even bother denying that you would be sulking."

"Don't worry about it Sirius, I just want to take a look around."

"We can go together then, I was planning to do the same thing anyway."

"I'm not helping you pick up women."

XXXXX

Harry did eventually manage to ditch Sirius and set off on his own, once his godfather was convinced that it was nothing to worry about.

The surroundings were still as loud and as annoying as ever, but Harry's thoughts weren't on that any longer. He was hunting for undercover muggles, wanting to know if the one he'd seen so far was an exception or if there were more.

He slipped out of his and Sirius' assigned campsite with as much stealth as he could muster. Several Hogwarts students recognized him and pointed him out to their families, much to his irritation, but that was thankfully as far as it went. At least he managed to avoid being seen by the Weasleys and his estranged friend Ginny, that was one awkward situation that he was happy to have avoided. They seemed to be trying to set up their tent without magic and were failing spectacularly. He remembered Ginny telling him about her father's fascination with muggles. For a man that was supposed to be the Ministry's expert on all things non-magical, he was impressively clueless. If the world was fair, a muggleborn would have had his job.

Having no particular destination, he simply set out towards a random grouping of people, keeping a sharp eye out for any people with no magical aura around them.

Several hours later, he'd found quite a few. Both men and women, always dressed to blend right in with the crowd, always looking as if they belonged there.

Just one muggle sneaking in to a magical event could be the result of a particularly clever and curius person convincing a wizard friend or relative to get them in. As many as he'd seen could not be a coincidence. Observers? Spies? Infiltrators? Why spy on a sporting event though?

All of them had some trinket on their person that was enchanted to negate the effect of the Muggle-Reppeling Wards. That automatically meant that they'd had magical help doing this, but how would they get that kind of help?

The answer came to mind instantly. Had he not spoken to Penny about her being forced to return to the mundane world less than a month ago? He still remembered his internet conversation with the possibly Russian wizard who had reamed him for posting Arithmancy problems online, warning him that the mundane governments were not as blind as wizards would like to think. Even the basest idiot could look at a muggleborn's school records and see that they seemed to drop off the face of the Earth from the ages of ten to eighteen. For someone in the know, it may as well be a flashing neon sign. It would be beyond simple for some government spook to approach a bitter muggleborn and offer them a job where they could make use of their gifts and would be paid handsomely for it after they'd been forced out of the Wizarding World by the bigotry inherent in it.

And they would accept. Not all of them. Some would stubbornly stick around despite the discrimination, others would leave the country and try their luck in a different magical nation and some would be too wary to work for the government, but some would accept out of sheer spite for the world that had made so many grand promises and then rejected them. The Prime Minister and the reigning monarch were ostensibly supposed to be the only muggles aware of the UK's magical population, but it was very likely that large portions of the government knew of it. It figured really...what government would be content to have another operating within its borders with barely any oversight? They probably had plans to make a hostile takeover at need and were using these spies to keep an eye on things. And the greatest irony was that Hogwarts was training the very people they needed to succeed for them.

But was this limited to Britain or was it happening everywhere? Were France or Germany or Italy or Sweden as bad as Britain? He didn't know how muggleborns were treated there. He was pretty sure that at least some of these muggles were American, if for no other reason than because it seemed that the United States were always involved when there was spying to be done. It was a stereotype yes, but it was a stereotype for a reason.

Harry took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He was getting ahead of himself, making assumptions and conjecture on very limited information. He didn't even know if these muggles were in the employ of any government. The only thing he _really_ knew was that there were muggles present and that they had magical items on their person to counter the repelling wards. A reasonably skilled fifth year should be capable of making an enchantment like that. For all he knew, they could just be family members of magicals sneaking in on an event they wouldn't have been able to see otherwise.

He nearly snorted to himself. Optimism was not something that worked for him. But even if they _were_ spies, there wasn't anything he could do about it. He couldn't even blame the muggle government for spying on them. He wouldn't trust wizards in their place either.

He didn't like it though, didn't like it at all. He abruptly felt exposed and vulnerable and agitated. It took him an effort of will to keep walking normally instead of marching back to his and Sirius' tent as fast as possible. He was now acutely aware of any action on his part that might draw attention.

Which was why he nearly reacted with violence when someone ran up behind him and grabbed his arm.

Harry tore his arm out of the small hand and spun around, half expecting to see a gun pointed at him despite the absurdity of such a notion. Instead of that he saw the luminous blue eyes and blonde hair of a good friend.

"Luna?" He asked, utterly baffled. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Harry." Luna said, smiling up at him with that slightly vacant look of hers. "Daddy and I have been here for a week. We're intending to expose the World Cup for what it is."

"And what is it?" Harry asked, feeling morbidly amused by Luna's habitual conspiracy theories in light of his recent discovery.

Luna pulled him down so that she could whisper into his ear conspiratorially. "It's a plot by the Ministry to swindle hard working people out of their gold."

Harry, having never seen the appeal of paying exorbitant prices to watch a boring sports event, was inclined to agree with her on this one.

"It does sound like something the Ministry would do." He conceded with a smile.

"Yes, Fudge has no doubt already stationed his invisible army of heliopaths around the area to keep the foreign Ministries from taking any of the gold for themselves." Luna added.

"I'll keep an eye out for them." Harry promised, though he was a great deal more dubious about this one. Even if heliopaths did exist, which was in no way certain, Fudge wasn't qualified to command an army of baked potatoes, much less one of invisible fire spirits.

"Is that why you're here?" Luna asked with a note of excitement in her tone.

"No, I'm not here to look for heliopaths." He said with a sigh. "I'm here because Fudge invited me and Sirius to sit with him in the top box and we couldn't find a way to refuse."

Bumbling idiot Fudge may be, but he had done them a favor by pushing the DMLE investigation of Pettigrew's death and Sirius' guilt along. Charlus and Dorea had warned them that they couldn't just snub the man afterwards without the risk of making him an enemy. The fact that Dumbledore had also warned him that there would be no simple way to extricate himself from the politics now that he'd dived in annoyed him quite a bit. He never liked it when the old man was right.

"That sounds dreadfully dull." Luna observed.

"I will be shocked if it isn't." Harry said wryly. At least Sirius liked quidditch, he didn't even have that luxury. "Speaking of which, I should probably find Sirius and get to our seats. Will you still be here after the game?"

"Yes, my tent is right over there." Luna said and pointed off to the side. "Unless the game lasts more than a couple of hours. If that happens then daddy and I will leave."

"So will I." Harry said, having no desire to watch a quidditch match that went on forever because the seekers couldn't catch the snitch.

XXXXX

Locating Sirius might have been difficult if not for the handy communication mirrors that the man had made for them. Actually getting him to stop talking to the American witch he'd been chatting up and going to meet Fudge had been far more difficult.

"Couldn't you have showed up just a little bit later?" Sirius sulked. "Mindy and I were having a fascinating discussion on the differences between our respective cultures."

"I'm sure you'll be able to 'share your culture' with Mindy after the game." Harry said blandly, knowing exactly what his godfather had been angling for.

"I guess." Sirius conceded grudgingly. "And what did you get up to?"

"I ran into Luna." Harry told him, leaving out his discovery of the hidden muggles. Despite his dire suspicions, he still had very little proof of anything. No point spreading around ineffective paranoia.

"Learn anything interesting?" Sirius asked with a snicker. He'd heard a thing or two about the girl's outlandish stories.

"I learned that the Quidditch World Cup is a scam to separate people from their gold and that Fudge has his heliopaths stationed as guards." Harry answered, just as amused. He'd never mock Luna for her strange beliefs and indeed found them to be part of her charm, but he had to admit that they sounded highly unlikely to be true.

"Maybe we should ask Fudge about that?" Sirius mused, imagining the baffled look on the Minister's face.

"No, let's just smile politely and hope that this is the last time we have to deal with politics." Harry grumbled, mood souring as they approached the top box.

"Will you at least turn someone's hair green?" Sirius asked hopefully.

"We'll see." Harry answered, already sinking into the light Occlumency trance that he suspected he would need in order to get through this without gnashing his teeth in irritation.

They made it to the top box in short order and found a slight surprise waiting for them there.

It was full of redheads. Weasleys to be specific. How they had gotten seats in the top box he had no idea.

"Ah, Harry, Sirius, you're finally here." Fudge said enthusiastically when he caught sight of them. He was rather notably wearing robes instead of the Ministry decreed muggle wear.

"Cornelius." Harry greeted calmly and Sirius simply nodded.

"I'm sure you already know most of the Weasleys." Fudge said next, apparently taking it upon himself to do the introductions.

A bevy of greetings came from the family of redheads, ending with an awkward 'hello, Harry' from Ginny that filled the air with the remnants of their collapsed friendship. Amusingly enough, Percy was looking insanely jealous of the attention that Fudge was paying him. He'd have to tell Penny about that one later.

"Next we have Ludo Bagman, the head of the Department for Magical Games and Sports." Fudge went on obliviously, introducing a man in wasp themed robes. "Used to be a star beater for the Wimbourne Wasps you know. He'll be the commentator for the match."

Harry and Sirius exchanged handshakes with the excitable looking man, with Harry for once being thankful that Fudge was too dense to notice the awkwardness between him and Ginny.

"Dolores Umbridge, my Senior Undersecretary but currently the acting head for the Department of International Magical Cooperation until we can appoint someone more permanent to the position." Harry had noticed the toadlike woman in the pink cardigan as soon as they'd entered the top box and had been wondering who she was.

"How do you do?" She said in the most sickeningly sweet tone that Harry had ever heard, extending her hand for him to take.

The painfully fake girlish tone inspired in him the urge to knock her teeth out. Not with magic either, but with his fist. It was a singularly irrational response to a four word sentence, especially in light of the fact that even Draco Malfoy's characteristic whine when something didn't go his way didn't get this much of a rise from him. He had no idea what it was about her, but this near hatred that he felt for someone he'd just met was deeply troubling.

This initial impression was only further reinforced when he shook her hand. It felt as if he'd someone had taken a piss on his own hand and he wiped it on his pants without even thinking about what it would look like.

Harry realized how much he'd just insulted her when he saw her expression tighten and swamped his thoughts with Dark even further to prevent another loss of control like that. There was something very, very _wrong_ with this pink-clad abomination. Her magical presence felt like an open septic tank.

Fudge the Oblivious came to the rescue once again by introducing the Bulgarian Minister of Magic and then announcing that it was time to start the game.

It was to begin with a show put on by each of the teams. Harry didn't expect to be the slightest bit impressed or interested by whatever they had in mind.

That opinion evaporated when the Bulgarians sent out the Veela.

Every single one of them was golden haired and incredibly beautiful, but it was their magic that truly captured his attention. It glowed with Light in a way that no wizard's or witch's magic he'd ever seen did and when they began to dance he could see it billow outwards to inflame the magic of everyone around them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron Weasley trying to climb down there with a look of mad adoration on his face, held back only by his father. The twins and Percy were more restrained, but still looked rather out of it. Sirius was on the edge of his seat and fidgeting as if he wanted to try climbing down too. Fudge was very flushed and fiddling compulsively with his ugly lime green bowler hat.

Umbridge had the exact opposite reaction. He couldn't see her face too well, but he thought that she was wearing a hateful sneer and the ugly feeling to her magic deepened yet further.

As for Harry himself, he was still fully in control of his faculties, but he felt his runes prickle powerfully, especially _Sol_.

XXXXX

Had the issue of Sirius' innocence never come to light, it would have been Barty Crouch that would have had a place reserved in the top box, where he would have smuggled his son in a bout of pity after hearing his house elf plead to take him there and which would have had a great many ramifications for the future.

As it was, Barty Crouch was at home, keeping his Death Eater son firmly under the Imperius and scowling angrily at his misfortune. First he lost his position as Head of the DMLE thanks to his son being a Death Eater and now he lost his position as Head of International Magical Cooperation because Sirius Black wasn't a Death Eater. It was enough to drive a man to rage.

The fury of Barty Crouch Sr. wasn't really important though, as the man was far too straight laced and by the book to do anything aside from scowl. It did mean however, that Barty Crouch Jr. would not be going anywhere without outside help. That help would have been received had news of the younger Crouch's situation reached the ears of Lord Voldemort, but it hadn't, so it wasn't.

XXXXX

Harry was dreadfully bored.

The quidditch game had gone on for quite a while now but failed to entertain him and he possessed the typical introvert's disdain for hyped up atmosphere, leaving him not only bored but also exasperated. Sirius was focused so intently on the movements of the players as to make him think that he was using it as an excuse to avoid talking to anyone, leaving Harry to deflect Fudge's bumbling attempts to form some kind of political alliance with them. The bastard.

The Veela were still on the field beneath the game, but he could only stare at them thoughtfully for so long, not to mention that the prickling of his runes was damned distracting. He was almost tempted to pull a prank despite having only told Sirius he'd do that to get the man to stop pouting.

Speaking of the Veela, Umbridge continued sneering at them and had more than once made some very racist comments in that infuriating saccharine tone about 'mongrel creatures' being allowed this close to people without restraints, giving him a good idea of her general personality. No doubt it was people like her who were the driving force behind the bigotry of the Wizarding World.

Well, the British Wizarding World at any rate, as Harry had noted the Bulgarian Minister becoming increasingly agitated around the loathsome toad.

The only part of this game that had been interesting to him so far had been when the Veela had apparently gotten a bit too passionate about their mascot duties and nearly attacked Ireland's leprechauns by transforming into a bird hybrid of sorts. Luna's book had mentioned that ability but seeing it in person was something else.

In his desire to retreat from all this, he'd sunk very deep into his Occlumency trance and was now constantly channeling his emotions into the river of Dark in his mind. It made him feel rather disconnected from the physical world, but it was better than feeling his temper constantly surging to the surface by the combination of Bagman's loud commentary, the crowd's yelling, Fudge's stupidity and Umbridge's...everything.

He didn't notice when the runes on his body began to chill or when his breath started misting. He didn't notice when the people around him began to shiver and seemed to lose their fervor for cheering. He didn't notice when Bagman's excited commentary started sounding forced. He didn't notice when the air around him started feeling hopeless and joyless.

He _did_ notice when Sirius took a firm grip of his arm and leaned over to whisper harshly into his ear. "Stop it, Harry."

Harry blinked slowly and came back to himself. What had he been doing?

"You felt like a mini dementor." Sirius explained in a low tone, seeing his confusion. "I don't think anyone else noticed, but you have to stop it."

Harry blinked again. That was new. Then again, he'd never focused on the Dark so heavily before either. That was...interesting. Something to watch out for, but definitely interesting. The fact that that it was after sunset might also have something to do with it. His particular form of Occlumency always seemed easier after dark.

With him no longer unintentionally killing the mood people returned to their cheering, but slowly and more than a bit bewildered by the sudden burst of gloom. Harry was deep in thought and Fudge seemed to have lost interest in talking to him.

XXXXX

The game came to an end shortly afterwards with an Irish victory but Viktor Krum catching the snitch, much to the roaring approval of the crowd. Harry still didn't see the appeal.

"I hope you've enjoyed the game." Fudge was saying, enthusiastically shaking Harry and Sirius' hands.

"It was an experience." Harry allowed. _A bad experience that I hope never to repeat._

"I can get you tickets to more professional games if you're interested, just come talk to me." Fudge went on in what he probably thought was a subtle hint that further association with him would have benefits.

"I'm still a Hogwarts student, so I don't see how I would have time for that." Harry evaded.

"Oh." Fudge said, looking rather nonplussed. Apparently he'd forgotten that little detail. "Yes, of course. What about you, Sirius?"

"Wouldn't be any fun without my godson there." Sirius also evaded, shamelessly using Harry as an excuse.

"Well no matter, I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other in the future." Fudge said brightly and left soon after, taking his ugly pink shadow with him.

"At fucking last." Harry said with feeling once they were far enough away.

"You can say that again." Sirius concurred.

"I'm going to find Luna." Harry announced after a short silence.

"Before you do that, mind telling me what your little dementor impersonation was about earlier?" Sirius asked pointedly.

"Everything around me was pissing me off, so I opened a mental channel to the Dark and started feeding everything into it." Harry explained with a shrug. "I didn't expect it to have any tangible effect on reality, but it's very interesting that it did."

"Don't play around with this, Harry." Sirius warned. "We don't want a repeat of what happened during Christmas."

"Don't worry, Sirius, I'll be careful." Harry assured him, which was really not very reassuring.

"Harry..." Sirius said disapprovingly.

"It'll be fine." Harry waved him off. "It's not like I'm going to do anything especially risky and I actually know what I'm doing now."

Sirius sighed, knowing that his godson wouldn't stop unless he wanted to. He was far too curious and too willful for that.

"Just...be careful." He finished lamely.

"I already said I would be, didn't I?" Harry said back with a raised eyebrow. "Now go find Mindy and show her some more of our culture."

Sirius' mood brightened considerably at the thought of the leggy American witch. That _did_ sound like a good idea.

The two wizards parted ways, each one looking to spend some quality time in female company, albeit very different types of female company.

Neither one noticed that they were being followed.

XXXXX

There were eight of them, all Death Eaters who had avoided Azkaban either through anonymity or by claiming that they were under Imperius. None of them were Lords, but some had friends who were. Most thought that Lucius Malfoy was their friend as he had protected them or otherwise helped them in the past. All of them were convinced that Lucius wanted to return to the days when the Dark Lord was at the height of his power and would gladly don the masks and robes of Death Eaters once again to prove to the mudbloods and muggle lovers that they hadn't won.

Lucius liked them because they were petty minded sadists and laughably easy to manipulate. A few offhand comments and they were all set to cause a scene that he could take credit for if it proved useful or deny all responsibility of if it became a liability. It had been equally simple to point them in the direction of Potter and Black while making them think it was their idea in the first place.

They had been keeping a discreet eye on their targets for a while now and were just about ready to make their move.

Well, it wasn't _really_ a discreet eye since they weren't exactly experienced at stalking people unobtrusively. Any sufficiently observant person would have been able to spot them, but neither Harry nor Sirius had been on the lookout. Even Harry's bout of watchfulness had been focused on the muggles he'd found rather than on any wizards looking to do him harm and he'd gotten a bit desensitized to magicals staring at him by now.

XXXXX

Sirius had discovered several important facts about Mindy since meeting her a few hours before the game.

One, she was here alone because she'd caught her boyfriend cheating on her just a few days before they were set to leave the United States for the World Cup.

Two, she was having trouble enjoying herself because of fact one.

Three, she was a sucker for a British accent, especially if it was attached to a devilishly handsome individual such as himself.

Four, she was using him as the rebound guy to have a quick fling with as a means of getting over her now ex-boyfriend.

Sirius, being the gallant man that he was, had no problem making such a sacrifice to help a woman in need. That was why they had retired to her internally expanded magical tent not long after the quidditch game ended.

As the tent had noise cancelling spells placed on it, the sudden appearance of fire came as a nasty shock.

Almost as soon as he saw it, Sirius pushed Mindy aside from where he'd been mounting her doggystyle(his favorite position, for obvious reasons) and scrambled for his wand.

"Hey, What the...hell?" Mindy started angrily at the sudden rough treatment only to trail off faintly as she saw her tent burning.

"Get your wand, we're under attack." Sirius ordered, hastily pulling on his pants while somehow managing to cover the entrance to the tend with his wand at the same time. Wizard tents did not simply catch fire.

"Under attack? By who?!" Mindy demanded but did as she was told anyway, dressing as hastily as him.

"I don't know, but we're going to have to go out there." Sirius replied grimly.

Staying in a magically expanded space as it was destroyed was a horrible idea all around. Sudden spatial contraction was not healthy, especially if the space wasn't empty. They couldn't apparate either, as wards had been set up against it to prevent people from just setting up tents for free.

"Alright, here's what we're going to do. I'll run out first and get their attention, you follow a few seconds later and run to safety. Ready? GO!" Had he been fresh out of Hogwarts, Sirius would have told her to help him fight, but he'd matured a bit since then. Very few wizards and witches used any kind of battle magic after learning about the basics in school. Most could barely even remember how to cast anything combat related a few years after graduation. Asking a person like that to make a stand against hardened killers wouldn't end well.

"Wait!" Mindy cried, but Sirius had already dashed through the tent flap, leaving her no choice but to do as he'd said.

XXXXX

The four Death Eaters outside were already drunk on their own power and the fear of the fleeing American magicals. This was truly what it meant to be a pureblood wizard! The only thing better than seeing the scum running away was taking your time killing them, but they had an objective aside from telling the world that Voldemort wasn't forgotten and they wouldn't have had time to indulge themselves anyway.

They had lost sight of Black in this area, meaning that he must have gone into one of the tents. Having neither the time noror the inclination to find out which one, they'd simply started setting fire to all of them. They knew that their quarry would have to show himself soon, and then he would die.

Or so they thought.

For all his horsing around, Sirius wasn't an idiot. He'd been an active combatant in the last war and knew a thing or two about what to do and what not to do in this situation. He knew that peeking cautiously out of the tent was a stupid idea. For one, it was impossible to say how long he and Mindy had before the space expansion charms collapsed and for another, it would make him a sitting duck.

With this in mind, he bolted through the exit at a sprint and went for the nearest bit of cover that he could see, which was another tent some distance away.

"There he is! Get him!" One of the expected attackers shouted.

Sirius saw Death Eater masks and quickly hurled a few Stunning Spells in their general direction, unsurprised when they were blocked. He saw Mindy come out of the tent and make a run for it while their backs were turned. He'd probably never see her again, which was a damn shame.

Sirius was more powerful than most, but four-on-one odds weren't to his liking. He could only block or dodge so many spells after all. With that in mind, he made a run for it, turning into a dog mid stride. A few spells flew around him, but the Death Eathers seemed to have some trouble aiming low enough to his a dog, especially a black dog at night.

XXXXX

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A man in a skull mask sneered mockingly. "Out for a stroll with your girlfriend, Potter?"

Harry looked around himself warily, finding to his dismay that he and Luna were surrounded by four of what could only be Death Eaters.

Luna had suggested that they go for a walk around the grounds while they caught up on their respective summers. They hadn't gone far before a panic of some kind had started over in what Harry had worriedly realized was the American section. The chaos had quickly spread and soon the whole place was in a panic with very few knowing why. Harry had refused to join the mindless stampede and had stayed put until he found out what was going on. Then these four had used the distraction to come up on them without notice and the worry had shifted to more immediate things.

"What's wrong, Potter?" One of the others chimed in with a mocking sneer of his own. "Is the Vanquisher of the Dark Lord too scared to say anything?"

If he was being honest, Harry would admit that this was a fairly accurate assessment of the situation. While he was quite sure that he was more powerful than any of these masked thugs, he had zero combat experience. He was a thinker, not a fighter. He studied magic and practiced spellcasting, but he did it because he was truly fascinated by magic and wanted to learn more. Even the looming threat of a not-fully-deceased Dark Lord hadn't really spurred him to seriously train for magical combat since he was planning to finish the twat off before he could properly resurrect himself. He'd always just sort of assumed that knowing spells would be enough. Now that he was actually faced with the prospect of battle, the stupidity of that assumption was glaringly obvious.

But even if he had been a fighter, this was a deeply unfavorable situation. His wandless magic was still too slow to really be combat viable and any quick movements would undoubtedly be responded to with lethal force. The Death Eaters presences were full of deadly intent.

It was that last point in particular that let him know that he _had_ to do something. The Death Eaters would only be amused by their own taunts for a short while before they acted on that intent.

So Harry closed his eyes and swathed his thoughts in Dark, needing the focus of a clear mind unburdened by fear or adrenaline.

"Look at that, lads! He's giving up!" The apparent leader jeered.

Harry ignored him and began constructing a spell inside of himself. He'd once used his hands as a replacement focus, but had long since realized that it was just another illusion.

"So much for the mighty Boy-Who-Lived." One of the others added.

Harry continued carefully forming the spell. He would only get one chance at this, so it had to be done right.

"Hey, do we have time to have some fun with the girl? She's not bad looking." The only one to have been silent so far asked hopefully.

Harry felt a swell of rage at the question, but it floundered in the tranquil Dark until he grabbed hold of it and pushed it into the spell. Luna trembled and pressed herself closer to him. That worked just fine for him as he included an exemption for her in his spell.

"Afraid not." The leader said with some regret. "Best get on with it and leave before the Aurors show up."

Knowing that he was out of time, Harry released the spell. An omnidirectional wave of force rushed out from his body, throwing all four Death Eaters into the air with all the strength of will and rage he'd poured into it.

"Come on!" He shouted, grabbing the surprised Luna's hand and making a run for it. "Into the forest."

It was fortunate that the entire camping ground hugged the edges of the forest, so they were able to reach the trees before the Death Eaters got their wits about them.

Harry pulled Luna into hug against a tree some distance into the forest and took his Invisibility Cloak out of the Bag of Holding that never left his side.

"Don't make a sound." He said softly as he drew it over them, his voice calm and steady despite the rapid beat of his heart. The Dark kept him calm. On instinct, he reached out to envelop Luna's aura in his own, soothing fear and urging obedience.

Luna looked up at him trustingly and nodded in understanding.

"Where did the little shites go?!" Came an angry demand less than a minute later.

"I saw them running here and they couldn't have gone far, spread out and find them." The leader ordered.

That was the end of that conversation as the Death Eaters focused on finding them. Safely hidden under the Invisibility Cloak, Harry and Luna watched them blunder about with increasing urgency. They tried casting a few spells as well, but none of them seemed to know the Human-Presence Revealing Spell, for which he was grateful. He still didn't know why that spell worked against his special Invisiblity Cloak or how to block it.

The Death Eaters had been slowly moving away from their position when a rustle of another group grabbed all of their attention.

They nearly attacked each other before they realized that all of them were Death Eaters.

"Merlin's saggy bollocks, I thought you were the Ministry." The leader of the first party exhaled in relief.

"Did you get Potter?" The leader of the second group demanded without preamble.

"No, we chased him here along with that Lovegood bint, but they just vanished on us." The scowl in the voice was clearly audible.

"Black got away from us too." The other one admitted grudgingly. "Turned into a dog and ran in here somewhere. We've had no luck finding him."

Harry was relieved to hear that. He'd been worried for his godfather. The rest of it was somewhat more disturbing though. This was sounding less like a group of idiots lashing out at him for Voldemort's demise and more like a planned assassination attempt.

"Shite!" The first swore. "We can't stay here much longer."

Harry allowed himself a small relieved smile. He and Luna were under an invisibility cloak and Padfoot was also as good as invisible in the dark forest with his black fur. Everything was going to be fine and these would-be assassins would be leaving with their objective unfulfilled.

Then a beam of light from a wand became visible from the direction that Harry, Luna and their pursuers had come from.

"Luna!" Came the distant but familiar voice of Xenophilius Lovegood. "Turnip, where are you?"

"Bring that freak over here." The leader of the first group ordered.

Harry felt Luna tense against him and he wanted to curse at concerned parents everywhere. The Death Eaters had been on the verge of giving up and now they had a hostage.

Xeno was even less of a fighter than Harry and was easily captured as a result.

"Potter!" The leader called out once the man was relieved of his wand and dragged to their location. "Show yourself or your little slut's father dies!"

Luna squeezed his arm with all the strength of her fingers and he didn't need to look at her to know that she was looking at him with terrified eyes.

He had no idea what to do. Had it been almost anyone else, he would have felt sorry for the unlucky bastard as he was killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he would not have even considered showing himself. He was not so noble as to sacrifice himself for the chance of saving a stranger. But it wasn't a stranger, it was Luna's father.

Harry didn't know Xenophilius Lovegood too well. He'd only spoken to the man briefly today and gotten the impression of a loving – if slightly strange – father. A good man for all his oddities. He still would have let him die if Luna wasn't his friend.

But she was his friend, so he edged them around the base of the wide tree they'd been hiding against so that they weren't in the Death Eaters direct line of sight.

"Running out of time, Potter!" The Death Eater warned.

"No matter what happens, stay hidden." Harry murmured to his friend softly so that the sound wouldn't carry.

Luna looked torn between wanting to save his father and not wanting her friend to walk into almost certain death. Harry didn't want to go either. He wasn't in any hurry to die and he didn't really believe that the Death Eaters would just let Xeno go if he gave himself up, but he had to try. Luna had already seen one parent die in front of her and he wanted to spare her a repeat of that experience. Sirius was still out there somewhere, so there was still a chance that this could end without anyone dying.

Anyone important at any rate.

"I'm here." Harry said as he stepped out from behind the tree.

"So nice of you to join us." The lead Death Eater said sarcastically and waved his wand. " _Accio Potter's wand!_ "

Harry could have easily resisted the spell, but chose not to. The wand wouldn't have done him any good anyway and it might lull them into a false sense of security since they were probably assuming that his earlier trick had been done with a wand even if they hadn't seen it. Instead, he began to construct another spell. No simple wave of force this time, but something more lethal. There was no room for kiddie gloves when the other side was planning to kill you. The Dark in his mind seemed to approve, insofar as a non-living, non-sentient, primal magical entity could approve of anything.

"I could hardly refuse the invitation you gave me." He said blandly, most of his focus on the spell he was crafting. The base of his intent first, something explosive and flashy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black shadow with gleaming eyes and the muted magical presence of his godfather sneaking through the woods.

"Where's your friend?" One of the others asked hungrily, the same one that had been so open with his intentions towards Luna earlier in fact.

"Safe." Harry answered in the same bland tone. Xeno gave him a look of mixed gratitude and apology, but he ignored it. He also decided that that Death Eater would make a fine target. The group of masked wizards had drifted closer together since he'd showed himself and that one was just slightly off center.

"Maybe I'll pay her a visit after we kill you." The same Death Eater leered. "I'm sure she'll be lonely with her boyfriend and father both dead."

"She probably would be." Harry agreed, still in that bland tone. The would-be rapist was helping him more than he knew. All the emotional energy that his words were generating was going into the spell. It was becoming an angry, violent thing. He doubted that he would have been able to aim it at any of the others even if he wanted to.

"I'll be sure to take my time then."

The spell glowed in his mind now like a beacon, still incomplete. The Void knew that he was intending to send at least one more soul its way and Dark seeped into it, turning the Fireball Spell that he was making into something hungry. The Void was always eager to take anything it could; objects, spells, souls, magic, anything that hastened the heat death of the Universe for even the tiniest fraction of a moment. There was a reason why the Vanishing Spell was so easy to cast. A physicist would have been horrified to learn that wizards could casually destroy matter and baffled as to where all its energy was going without a cataclysmic explosion.

But Harry knew. It had even featured as the riddle to enter Ravenclaw Tower a time or two. The textbook explanation was that Vanished objects go into 'non-being, which is to say, everything'. They went to the Void.

Not that magicals ever seemed to grasp the importance of this bit of information.

"Enough!" One of the others barked. "Lets just kill them and get it over with. We're cutting it close as it is."

"Would you mind telling me who put you up to this first?" Harry asked. The spell wasn't ready yet, it was still too unstable and prone to backfiring. He needed more time.

The leader scoffed at his question. "As if someone needs to put us up to killing the Boy-Who-Lived."

Lucius had been _very_ subtle.

Harry's attention slipped from his spell for a moment in his surprise. He'd been sure that there was someone pulling strings in the background. He had no time to think about it though, as the maintenance of the unstable Fireball Spell took almost the entirety of his attention.

"Now die!" The leader suddenly spat, raising his wand in the air. " _Avada-_ "

Harry's eyes widened in surprise and panic at the sudden lethal turn of events. He hadn't expected to have so little warning. Desperate, he flung out his right arm and hurled the Fireball at its intended target. Sirius jumped out of his hiding spot and let loose with his own spells.

His spell hadn't been ready and his momentary loss of focus had destabilized it further. Harry roared in pain as his arm caught fire from the backlash, the dark crimson orb of flame coming out wild and misshapen. But it still struck the Death Eater and exploded into a hungry, grasping flame that clung to the wizards and seared flesh far more effectively than any normal fire.

The situation devolved into screaming and spellfire, but Harry registered none of it. He'd been thrown to the ground by the explosion and his full attention was on frantically trying to put out the flames still flickering over his arm. The anger infused into them gave way easily since it was his own and targeted at the Death Eater, but the Dark was less cooperative. It wanted to keep consuming something, anything, even if it was the wizard who had brought it into being. It took long, painful seconds before it finally yielded to his will.

"Harry!" Sirius yelled. "Are you okay?"

Harry nodded with a tightly clenched jaw and sweat streaked face. His arm was a beacon of agony up to his elbow and gave off a nauseating smell of charred meat, but he hadn't been hit with any other spells. He took a quick look around and saw that they were alone. The Death Eaters must have decided that it was time to go despite having superior numbers. There were five bodies on the ground, three of which still had the dark crimson fire sticking to them like napalm, along with some of the surrounding forest. Another had no obvious cause of death in the darkness, but was assuredly dead. And the last...

"Daddy!" Luna wailed and ran towards the only body that wasn't dressed in black robes.

"What happened?" Harry asked his godfather, heart dropping with the weight of his failure as he listened to his friend sobbing over the body of her father.

"He tackled one of them and got cursed for his trouble." Sirius said somberly.

XXXXX

The Aurors arrived almost immediately afterwards, too late as usual according to Sirius' muttering. His Invisibility Cloak and wand were collected and returned to him as they were transported to the Ministry along with the bodies of the dead, a newly orphaned Luna going eerily quiet as she held on to his undamaged hand and stared vacantly at something that only she could see.

Once at the Ministry, a healer had given her a Dreamless Sleep potion and she'd drank it without a word, falling asleep on the provided bed soon after.

That same healer was now slathering his arm with burn salve while he spoke to an exasperated looking Amelia Bones.

"Mr. Potter, you seem to have a knack for getting in trouble." The formidable DMLE director was saying, looking more than a bit displeased.

"They tried to kill me first." Harry said pre-emptively, shrugging as he did so. He was finding it entirely impossible to feel anything but satisfaction at the deaths he'd caused this day. Because of those Death Eaters, his friend was now an orphan.

"You seem strangely unbothered by your rising body count." Bones commented, wanting to know if she was going to have another murderer on her hands in the future.

"I was never one for emotional blubbering and I'm not going to waste my sympathy on people that don't deserve it." He explained. That he also suspected that there was something about the Dark that literally made him unable to feel regretful about sending more lives to the Void he left unsaid. He'd wondered about that ever since the Pettigrew incident and his subsequent lack of regret. He was now even more certain that his rituals had knocked loose whichever psychological screw made the majority of people abhor killing. To him it was just speeding up the inevitable and defending his own life in the process. A somewhat worrying revelation perhaps, but he wasn't killing randomly so it was fine.

Amelia pursed her lips, more in thought than in disapproval. That he had acted in self-defense tonight was beyond doubt. The Death Eater masks and robes certainly proved that and there was a glut of witnesses. Her only problem was the amount of bodies turning up around the young Potter and the magic used to make them.

The healer was by this point done with the burn salve and had taken to waving his wand over Harry's right arm.

"I am sorry, Mr. Potter, but I'm afraid that I can't keep your arm from scarring." The old man said regretfully. "It was a cursed fire and wounds like that never heal properly. I am surprised that I was able to heal it as much as I did given how much it is resisting my spells and the salve."

"It's fine." Harry said indifferently. The skin on his right arm was full of scar tissue up to the elbow now, but it was alright. He hadn't lost any feeling or dexterity in the limb and it didn't even look as bad as he had expected it to given how painful it had been at the time. He was honestly more worried about Luna than he was about a few scars.

The healer was wrong though. It had been his runes that were resisting the healing spells rather than the wounds themselves. They'd also been working to heal him ever since he'd been injured, though he didn't think the scars would be disappearing anytime soon.

"Are you ready to give me your statement now?" Amelia asked once the healer had left the room.

"Sure." Harry shrugged, knowing that there was no avoiding it. He and Sirius had been separated as soon as they were brought to the Ministry and had no chance to come up with a story that let him keep all his secrets. He would have to be truthful. Getting caught lying was worse than telling the truth.

The story was short and took no more than a few minutes to tell, even with Madam Bones asking for clarification every so often. Things only hit a snag once he was approaching the end of his tale.

"...I knew that they wouldn't let Luna's father go even if I gave myself up, but I had to try. My arm didn't actually get burned by one of the Death Eaters spells, but from my own. I was preparing to cast it from the moment I stepped out from under my Invisibility Cloak and released it when their leader started casting the Killing Curse. My spell wasn't ready yet and it backfired."

Bones looked at him shrewdly for a moment before speaking. "Your wand was found on one of the Death Eater's bodies and I've never heard of a spell backfiring like this."

"I didn't use my wand." Harry was hoping that telling her that one important secret would keep her from digging too deeply.

"You expect me to believe that you cast a spell that killed three people without a wand?" She asked skeptically.

Harry simply pointed a finger at a quill that the healer had left behind and sent it looping through the air.

"I've known about my magic since I was six." He explained to the stunned DMLE director. "I had no idea about wands at that point, but I desperately wanted to do magic, so I practiced. I devoted every spare moment to figuring out how to do it on purpose rather than by accident. It took me years before I succeeded, but it's still slower than using a wand."

"The healer said that your arm was burned by cursed fire." Bones said after taking a minute to absorb this revelation. Wandless magic was considered all but impossible in this age. It had been rare in any age.

"He's wrong." Harry stated simply. "A wand acts as both a shortcut and a safety for magic. Casting without one is far more difficult because you need to figure out all the in-between steps that a wand lets you skip. Perhaps even more importantly, casting without a wand means that there is no buffer between the caster and the spell. The Death Eater that I threw my fireball at had made it clear that he was intending to rape and probably murder Luna after her father and I were dead. There was a lot of anger in my spell as a result and that's why it resisted healing." No way was he telling her about the Void and the Dark. Or about his runes for that matter. The Ministry deemed any magic that involved bloodletting illegal.

"I see." Bones said neutrally, looking thoughtful. That was both fascinating and very, _very_ impressive, but she had to put that aside and look at it from a legal point of view. She'd received preliminary reports that the fire had been very difficult to put out and had nearly gone out of control. It had been almost like Fiendfyre. "Why did you choose such a destructive spell?"

"There were too many Death Eaters to fight, so I needed to scare them into running away. A ball of fire slamming into one of their own seemed like my best bet."

"You're probably right." Bones admitted. The Death Eaters had always been quick to turn tail and run if things didn't go their way. "Very ruthless though."

"I'm an Occlumancer." Harry said with a shrug. "I'd pushed away my emotions and made a decision based on pure logic."

Amelia nodded in understanding, not even surprised that he knew Occlumency already. She was no stranger to using the discipline to push aside emotion at need.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone that I can do magic without a wand." Harry requested.

"Why?" She asked, honestly curious.

"Because I don't need any more attention being focused on me." True enough, but it was mostly because he wanted to keep the element of surprise that secrecy afforded him for as long as possible. It had undoubtedly saved his life tonight.

That there were four Death Eaters out there that knew about it now was not a comfortable thought. If he was lucky, they would be unable to fathom the idea of him using such powerful magic without a wand and assume that he'd had another one hidden in his sleeve, but he couldn't count on it.

"I suppose it wouldn't matter if I left that out." Amelia conceded. She wouldn't outright lie about it, but she wouldn't explicitly mention that wandless magic had been used. It should be enough. It wouldn't make any difference and it would spare the young man some unwanted attention, which she was willing to give him since the victims of his spell were all Death Eaters.

It was something of an open secret that Amelia Bones hated the fact that so many Death Eaters had dodged prison after Voldemort's fall. Seeing four of the skull masked bastards that had nearly wiped out her family killed wasn't something that she was willing to be especially difficult about, so granting Harry's minor request was no hardship to her. Her irritation with the Pettigrew situation had stemmed almost entirely from the fact that Potter and Black had hid it for months on end.

"Thank you." Harry said sincerely, turning to check on Luna, who was peacefully sleeping in the bed next to him.

"Does she have any family to take care of her?" Amelia asked softly, looking at the sleeping girl. Another thing that had made a good impression on her was Harry's refusal to leave his friend alone.

"No." Harry answered. Luna had told him that she'd never known either of her grandparents. Xeno's parents had died early in his life and Pandora Lovegood hadn't even been from Britain. "I'll take her in."

"Mr Potter, you're a minor yourself. You can't take anyone in." Amelia told him with a sort of dry incredulity.

"Sirius will take her in." Harry amended with the air of someone repeating their previous statement.

"And you've already discussed this with Lord Black?" She asked with an archly raised eyebrow, wondering just what kind of relationship Sirius Black and Harry Potter had. She hadn't failed to notice that the fourteen-year-old had apparently been off on his own with no supervision when the Death Eater attack happened. That coincided with a few other odd moments where Black seemed to just let him do as he pleased.

"No, but he'll agree." Considering that it was his manor that Sirius was living in, he hardly had a choice. Not that Sirius was likely to object in the first place.

"I'll bet he will." Amelia muttered and left the room. She still had to get Black's side of the story, though she didn't expect it to differ much.

XXXXX

In the office of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge slumped into his padded chair with a heavy sigh.

What a mess. Death Eater activity after nearly thirteen years of silence, targeted at the Boy-Who-Lived no less. The owner of the _Quibbler_ murdered, his child orphaned, property destroyed, otherwise upstanding members of society killed while wearing dark wizard regalia and attacking a national hero. People were going to want answers.

He'd just spent the past several hours putting out the political fires this resurgence in Death Eater activity had caused. There had been enraged and aggrieved family members screaming demands at him to have Potter arrested for murder once the names of the dead were known.

As if he could do that! Wizards in Death Eater robes had assaulted the Boy-Who-Lived and he was supposed to arrest him? Preposterous. The public would eat him alive, no matter how much they insisted that it had been just a prank and that Harry had overreacted. He would have needed to start a defamation campaign before he could arrest Harry Potter and that was simply more trouble than it was worth, not to mention politically dangerous. The dead hadn't even been part of any of the Noble Houses. Purebloods yes, but not nobles.

No, best to just let this whole thing blow over as quietly as possible. He'd lean on the _Daily Prophet_ too and make sure they marginalized the incident as much as possible. That should be the last important thing he had to do tonight, then it was off to bed and a well deserved rest.

So focused was Fudge on making sure that he didn't look bad in the eyes of the public over this debacle, that he forgot that the Quidditch World Cup had been an international event. Not unexpected really, as Barty Crouch had always handled that angle before and done it well despite his humorless, uncharismatic personality.

XXXXX

"Known followers of a British Dark Lord attack an American campsite, destroying property and causing at least two deaths when the space expansion charms collapsed and you call it a _misunderstanding_?" The American Ambassador asked, his low tone perfectly conveying his anger at the notion.

"Well of course, Mr. Boyer." Dolores Umbridge said with her usual teeth-grindingly fake sweetness. "What else could it be? Surely you aren't insinuating that upstanding British wizards would deliberately attack your...people."

John Boyer, current American Ambassador to the wizards and witches of Britain, Scotland and Ireland, clenched his jaw in fury at the sheer nerve of this pink toad. Not only was she blatantly ignoring the evidence in order to whitewash what had happened, she was also obviously the worst sort of blood purist of the type that Britain seemed to produce so easily. The bigotry practically oozed out of her. People like her had been the reason that the original British magical colonists had joined with their non-magical counterparts and booted Britain and the Goblin Nation off the continent.

A number of Britain's less powerful Noble Houses had made the move to America in the hope that their wealth and power would be able to grow away from the influence of the ancient families in Britain. The goblins had of course come along because of the treaty that gave them control over the magical banking system.

Neither had considered the fact that the many wizards and witches that had chosen an uncertain future on a new continent rather than put up any further with either of them wouldn't be happy to have them along. The Great Pureblood and Goblin Slaughter of 1773 was still celebrated as a holiday on the 16th of May, despite the complaints coming from Britain and the Goblins about celebrating what they considered the mass murder of their people.

"I'm not _insinuating_ anything." Boyer snapped. "I'm telling you that your _upstanding British wizards_ were nothing more than terrorists and I expect the rest of them to be found and thrown in prison."

"Who are you to make demands of the Ministry of Magic?" Umbridge snapped back, bristling with indignation at the nerve of the jumped up mudblood foreigner that thought he could simply order British wizards of fine breeding to be imprisoned for having a little fun.

The argument quickly devolved after that until the American Ambassador stomped away in a rage. As a consequence of this cock up, relations between the Magical Realms of Britain and North America quickly deteriorated to a state not seen in over a hundred years.

It was almost impressive how Umbridge had managed to undo the work of Barty Crouch and three of his predecessors over the course of a single conversation.

XXXXX

 _A day later._

"You seem a little distracted."

The voice of his girlfriend brought Harry out of his thoughts. He looked towards where she was lying on his chest with a slight frown.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well..." Tonks began. "One, you weren't performing up to your usual standard earlier. Two, you've been staring at nothing for the past five minutes. Three, you've been absently fondling my bum for those same five minutes but you're as soft as sponge despite having gone only one round."

"Okay, so I am a little distracted." Harry admitted. Even his formidable, rune enhanced libido could apparently be overcome by heavy thoughts.

"Worried about your friend?" The Metamorphmagus guessed.

"Yeah, I'm worried about Luna." He sighed.

They had been able to leave the Ministry soon after Sirius was done talking to Amelia Bones. The Ministry's version of social services hadn't put up much of a fuss over assigning Sirius custody of Luna. Harry had in fact gotten the feeling that they were simply glad to have the problem solved expediently.

In the morning, the Dreamless Sleep potion had worn off and Luna had woken up. Harry had tried to talk to her, but the blonde girl had not been very responsive. In fact, she hadn't said a word the whole day, merely looked spaced out and not quite there the whole time. His strange magical sixth sense was telling him that Luna was not in a good place right now, not that one needed a magical sixth sense to figure that out.

Harry did not have the first clue about what to do with a traumatized thirteen-year-old girl. There were no magical psychiatric services, at least not in Britain. Trying to take her to a non-magical therapist was likely to result in either the therapist thinking that she was completely off her rocker or a round of obliviations if the Ministry caught wind of it. No matter though. He was somewhat dubious about the usefulness of psychiatrists in most cases anyway, nevermind with Luna, who's mind didn't work quite the same as most peoples did.

He was seriously considering having Sirius withdraw both of them from Hogwarts, but wasn't sure just yet if that was a good idea since there was no telling whether that would help or hurt the situation.

"Got a few other things on my mind too." He added.

Such as those muggles he'd seen. He didn't imagine that Death Eaters showing up again and causing trouble had made a good impression if they were there to keep an eye on the magical side of things as he'd surmised. Maybe it was time to start thinking of a contingency plan in case he ever had to leave the country in a hurry? It might just be paranoia on his part, but he wasn't feeling altogether secure with Death Eaters suddenly causing trouble, Voldemort lurking out there somewhere, the government essentially being controlled by an oligarchy of rich nobles, a good chunk of which had quite a bit in common with Hitler, Dumbledore playing his own games, his wealth being controlled by a race that hated humans and now learning that the mundane government was up to something too. In fact, putting all of that together made him think that he was actually a little slow on the uptake and should have made contingency plans before now.

He had not enjoyed feeling helpless, or the harsh truth that he'd only survived through a combination of factors that largely boiled down to luck. Now he would have a permanent reminder of his failure on his arm. He had failed to save Luna's father and had nearly died himself to a clumsy assassination attempt made by a group of idiots. Dangerous idiots, but still idiots. Whether someone else had been pulling their strings or not didn't really matter in the immediate sense, what mattered was that he'd very nearly died because he hadn't been prepared to fight. Could he have saved Xeno if he'd been more of a fighter? He'd never know, but he was intending to be a much harder target the next time someone thought they could take a shot at killing him.

"What other things?" Tonks asked.

And then there was Dora, his shapeshifting girlfriend of a month and a half. His first impression of her had been quite correct. She was loads of fun. This summer had so much happening in it that it seemed to last four times longer than normal, but her presence had made it a lot more enjoyable despite the many annoying parts. Now it was coming to a close and Harry found himself once more thinking of Hogwarts as a nuisance. At this point he was only going back for the expansive library and the personal tutoring in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, but being separated from her for months on end would still suck.

He knew that she'd been reticent about a relationship due to his age, which was hardly something he could begrudge her. He was glad that he'd succeeded in breaking through that problem. Harry wouldn't say that he was in love with her, but he did like her a great deal and had no desire to have their relationship end.

"You." He said with a smile.

"Me? What about me?" She asked curiously.

"Just wondering how I'm going to survive in Hogwarts without you now that my previous batch of mistresses have graduated." He said mournfully.

"You poor baby." She mocked.

"I guess I'll have to sneak out and pay you a visit whenever I can." He mused. How hard could it be? Just find a nice secluded spot, turn into a raven and fly out of the range of the wards.

"And how do you plan to accomplish that?" She asked skeptically, knowing that Hogwarts was locked down during the night.

"It's a secret." Harry teased. "And speaking of secrets, I've got one that I'd like to share with you...if you can keep it to yourself."

"I'm an Auror, of course I can keep a secret." Tonks asserted.

"Watch this then." He said and raised one of his hands in a cupping motion, his newly scarred right hand as it happened since Tonks was laying on the other one.

"Okaaay, what am I watching?" She asked, bemused by his look of concentration.

"Wait for it." He advised.

"Wait for- whoa!" She exclaimed as a small ball of flame burst into life above his palm. "How are you doing that?"

"Magic." Harry replied, much amused. It seemed silly to keep this from her when he'd told Amelia Bones about it.

"But you're doing it without a wand!" Tonks protested, still staring at the mini fireball.

"Well it wouldn't have been a secret if I did it with my wand, now would it?" Harry reasoned and dismissed the bit of fire he'd conjured.

Tonks opened and closed her mouth a few times, unable to find anything to say. Then she just huffed, gave his chest a slap and called him a prat.

"This is actually why I've got this manly scar all the way up to my elbow now." He said with s sigh, turning his hand over. "I didn't have time to stabilize the spell and some of its power backfired on me."

Tonks reached up to lace her fingers with the scarred limb. The burns weren't horribly disfiguring, but definitely noticeable.

"Is wandless magic that dangerous?" She asked, concerned.

"Depends on what you're doing with it." He answered. "Casting a volatile explosive spell in a desperate situation is definitely more dangerous than it would have been with a wand."

Tonks was a bit worried for his safety, but decided not to pester him about it. He seemed to know what he was doing with this and it had probably saved his life anyway. A bit of scarring was a small price to pay in light of that.

"Can you teach me how to do it?" She asked instead.

"I don't know, maybe?" He replied uncertainly. "I've never tried teaching it to anyone. Sirius lost interest after I told him that it took me years to get even the smallest result."

"Good thing that I'm made of sterner stuff than my lazy cousin then." Tonks declared and hoisted herself into a straddling position. "Now, I recall hearing you say that you had more secrets to share."

"I'm not telling you all of my secrets at once." Harry huffed, amused.

"Pretty pleaseeeee!" She wheedled. If his first one was a proficiency for wandless magic, then the others must be really something else.

"No." He refused point blank. His unregistered Animagus transformation, the runes and his connection to the Void and the Sun were all quite a bit illegal and she was an Auror. He might like her, but he wasn't crazy enough to tell her stuff that could see him getting in trouble with the law until he was sure that she wouldn't blab. Dramatic dilemmas between duty and feelings should stay locked in the chest of cliché plot devices where they belonged.

"Tell me or I'll torture it out of you." Tonks threatened.

Harry gave her his most sarcastic look, silently declaring his skepticism over her statement.

"Don't believe me, huh?" She asked rhetorically before thrusting out her chest. "Fine then, prepare to get smothered in boobs!"

"Wha?" Was Harry's most intelligent reply as he watched his girlfriend's normally B-cup chest balloon into E-cup range with no signs of stopping. Then he could say nothing at all as the mass of titflesh covered his face.

"You secrets or your life!" Tonks declared with an evil cackle, hugging his head to prevent him from escaping the mammary prison.

Harry was of course unable to reply. In fact, he hadn't even heard what she'd said. It didn't matter though. Even this inventive new form of torture wasn't enough to pry out his secrets. The activity did wake up his libido though.

XXXXX

 _The next night._

Harry awoke when he felt someone crawl into bed with him. Tonks wasn't spending the night today and this person was too small in any case.

Not to mention that only one magical presence had this distinct flavor to it.

"Luna?"

"Yes, Harry?" The blonde girl asked dreamily.

"Why are you in my bed?"

"I felt lonely and you said that you would do anything you could for me." Luna answered.

He had indeed said that, though he hadn't been expecting her to come cuddle him. Maybe he should have. Well whatever, at least she wasn't staring at the walls as if she could see through them.

"Um, why are you naked though?"

"The same reason as you."

That was a fair point, Harry conceded. Sleeping was indeed best done naked. Or it would have been a fair point if she was in her own bed. Luna probably didn't have the best of grasps on the implications of being naked in bed with another person though, so he couldn't be _too_ surprised.

He felt his manhood stirring at the proximity of a naked female, the disobedient organ blatantly ignoring the fact that he had no intention of sticking it in this particular naked female.

Harry grimaced. Lose-lose situation. He could either be uncomfortably aroused or he could ask Luna to leave.

He sighed. Uncomfortably aroused it was.

"Teeny?" He called.

"Yes, Harry Potter sir?" The house elf whispered loudly as soon as she popped in.

"Could you get me some pajama bottoms?"

Teeny nodded convulsively and popped away, reappearing a moment later with a pair of dark blue silk pants.

"Thank you, Teeny, you're the best." Harry sighed as he pulled on the sleepwear. He'd not used it much since he'd discovered the joys of sleeping in the nude.

The house elf squeaked in pleasure at the compliment and popped away again, leaving Harry shaking his head at the strangeness of the little creatures.

"You don't have to wear pajamas on my account, I don't mind if your penis pokes me in the bum." Luna said once he'd settled back down.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised." Harry said wryly and pulled his friend into a spooning position. He didn't even bother asking if she would like some PJ's herself. He knew her well enough to know that she'd turn him down, utterly oblivious to the fact that it would be for his benefit more than hers.

Luna wiggled around until she found a comfortable position. Harry bit his lip as her tiny butt and still somewhat bony hips rubbed against his erection. Maybe silk pajamas hadn't been such a grand idea. If it was anyone but her, he'd think she was doing this on purpose.

At long last, she settled down. With his silk wrapped tool nestled between the crack of her arse and his scarred arm clutched in between her budding breasts.

Harry took a deep breath to calm down and remind himself that he had a girlfriend already, that Luna wasn't messing with him deliberately(probably), was grieving for her father(definitely) and was only thirteen despite having started puberty already(somewhat hypocritically since he himself was only fourteen, magical super puberty aside).

They spent the next few minutes in silence, with Luna slowly running her fingers over the arm that he was holding her with and Harry trying to force his libido into submission with meditation. It was an uphill battle.

"I miss daddy." Luna said out of the blue, her previously vacant, spaced out tone replaced with deep sadness. She didn't burst into tears as he'd half expected, but the sense of emotional pain wasn't any weaker for it.

Having no idea what else to do, Harry hugged her tighter. "You'll always have me."

"You promise?" She asked hopefully.

Harry rather cynically thought that he couldn't promise not to be murdered, since it wasn't really up to him. He could have quite easily joined Luna's father if the Death Eaters weren't cowardly enough to scatter at the first sign of resistance. He could also have been mourning Sirius if the masked twats weren't so incompetent. Hell, the lot of them could be dead.

But he couldn't say that to Luna right now. "I promise." It cost him nothing to make the promise. It wasn't as if anyone would be able to do anything about it if he couldn't keep it after all. _Damn I'm gloomy._

She didn't say anything back, but Harry got the sense that she felt a little better. That was something at least.

XXXXX

 _Two days later._

Luna crept towards Harry's room, completely naked yet again. She figured that he and Tonks had stopped having sex and gone to sleep by now. Her father's death still felt like an aching hole in her chest and she hadn't been able to sleep. Cuddling up to Harry the other night had helped, but it would have been rude to show up before they were done.

Silently, she opened the door and peeked inside. No movement or moaning. The only sound was a quiet snore. Good.

With the same silence, she crept towards the bed and checked for a spot to cuddle. Harry was on his back, with Tonks pressed into his left side. That was perfect, she could take the right without getting in the way.

As carefully as possible, she slipped beneath the light slik sheets and cuddled into Harry's left side. She froze when he grumbled something in his sleep, but smiled when his arm went around her waist. As a final touch, she mimicked Tonks' leg positioning and swung her own leg over Harry's, accidentally sliding it over the Auror's in the process. Tonks had much smoother legs than Harry.

XXXXX

Harry awoke at sunrise feeling a bit...off. And what was all this blonde hair in his face? Dora wasn't blonde often, especially not in the morning.

A closer examination revealed that the strangeness was due to there being two bodies on him today instead of just one. Which would of course mean that the blonde hair probably didn't belong to his girlfriend.

Harry sighed quietly. He wasn't even surprised that Luna wouldn't be deterred by something as trivial as another woman already being in bed with him. This could be awkward.

Ah well, might as well get it over with. His bladder wouldn't let him delay for long anyway.

He gave his girlfriend a shake, getting only some disgruntled noises in return. He continued shaking her until she woke up.

"Ngghhh." Tonks said eloquently, leaving a line of slobber on his chest.

"Dora, wake up." Harry told her quietly.

"G'back t' sleephhh." She slurred.

"Dora." Harry said more insistently.

"N'sex. Wank it." She insisted sleepily.

Harry rolled his eyes in amused exasperation. Tonks was definitely not a morning person.

"Doooraaaaa~." He sing-songed, persistently running his fingers over her back.

Tonks let out an aggravated groan and raised her head with what appeared to be a titanic effort, squinting at him with bleary eyes. Then she caught sight of the other female and started blinking in utter bafflement.

"Whazzat?" She asked, apparently unable to process this early in the morning.

" _That_ would be Luna Lovegood. You met her yesterday." Harry explained, vastly amused by her confusion.

Tonks continued to stare and blink at the other female for a good ten seconds, something critical not computing.

"Why'sere?" She finally asked.

"Let's ask her, shall we?" Harry said and started shaking Luna awake.

It didn't take nearly the amount of effort to wake her as it took with Tonks. Luna looked up, clearly also a bit bleary but not nearly as addled as Tonks.

"Good morning, Harry, Nymphadora." She greeted.

"Morning." Harry returned with a resigned fondness. Luna would be Luna.

Tonks was still too sleep addled to even take umbrage at the use of her first name, but she did start getting her wits together.

Harry and Luna waited patiently while the Metamorphmagus rubbed the heel of her palm into her eyes to clear out the gunk. Once she was done, and her vision consisted of something more than blurry shapes, she looked between the two teenagers and asked the all important question.

"What's going on?"

"I couldn't sleep." Luna explained.

"So you decided to come sleep with us?" Tonks asked for the sake of clarification.

Luna nodded.

"Naked?"

"Mhm."

"Right." Tonks concluded. "You got anything to add here, Harry?"

"I really need to use the loo." Harry admitted.

Both females wordlessly slid off him so that he could amble towards the adjoined bathroom, not even bothering to cover up. It all seemed quite redundant at this point.

A silence descended that was awkward for Tonks alone. As for Luna...

"Are you going to have morning sex?" She asked, taking an interested glance at the sex swing hanging nearby.

"Not now we aren't." The Auror said a bit sourly. Despite her zombie-like wake ups, she actually enjoyed morning sex. It was a great way of starting the day and she could always go back to sleep right after if she felt like it, which she often did since Harry usually kept her up pretty late with his crazy stamina.

"Oh." Luna said, sounding very disappointed. "I was hoping I could watch." Her parents had let her watch back when they had both still been alive.

Tonks gaped at the little blonde voyeur, completely stunned by the admission. How was she even supposed to respond to that?

Eventually she managed to close her mouth and decided to tackle a different issue. "Luna, you can't just crawl into bed with people."

"Why?" Luna asked, cocking her head and giving the Auror an unblinking stare. She didn't understand what the problem was. Harry was a friend, she hadn't interrupted their sex and didn't get in the way.

"You just...can't." Tonks sputtered, unsure of how to really argue her point. "It just isn't done."

"But why not?"

Tonks once more scrambled for a response and decided to go on the offensive instead. A good offense is the best defense and all that.

"Do you always crawl into someone else's bed when you can't sleep?"

"I did when mum died, but I don't have daddy anymore either." Luna said sadly.

 _Nothing to start the day like a nice big pile of guilt and shame._ Tonks thought to herself with a wince.

"Could you at least put on some clothes if you're going to do it?" She asked in a resigned tone, knowing full well that she'd just tacitly ceded victory to the strange little blonde.

"Why would I wear clothes for sleeping?" Luna asked, looking genuinely confused at the notion of sleeping with clothes on.

"Because it's not right to sleep naked next to someone you aren't in a relationship with?" Tonks suggested uncertainly, now wary of the young girl's strange logic twists.

"What's wrong about it?"

Tonks opened her mouth to reply, but came up empty. She couldn't for the life of her name a single reason why sleeping naked next to someone was wrong, aside from the sexual connotations that were notably absent here. It was even worse because Luna just looked honestly curious. Based on this and what she'd learned from Harry, she was getting the distinct feeling that the Lovegoods hadn't had much in the way of taboos and had certainly not taught any to their daughter. Trying to instill them into Luna now would be an exercise in futility and not really something that Tonks was willing to attempt.

"It would just be more comfortable for Harry and me if you wore something." She finally said instead of answering the question.

"But Harry didn't seem to mind a couple of days ago." Luna reasoned.

Tonks' hair turned a slightly darker shade of red. Harry hadn't mentioned that Luna had done this before.

"Just wear some clothes." She sighed.

"Okay." Luna nodded in agreement. She figured that sleeping in a pair of panties wouldn't be too bad for the times when Tonks was staying over. "What about watching you have sex?"

Tonks groaned, a flush working itself up her neck at the uncomfortable directness of blonde's questions. "No, Luna, you can't watch us have sex."

"Why not?"

"Why would you even want to watch us have sex?" The Auror asked, rubbing her forehead and wondering if her current headache was a result of too little sleep, dehydration or the conversation.

"I've always wanted to watch Harry have sex." Luna admitted, not just shamelessly, but also completely oblivious to the fact that there was anything to be ashamed of.

"Why?" Tonks pressed on fatalistically, figuring that she might as well go all the way down the rabbit hole.

"I only got to watch my parents do it before." Luna explained. "I'd like to see how different it is with other people."

 _Interesting parenting strategy._ Tonks thought to herself sarcastically. "The answer is still no."

"Okay." Luna conceded dejectedly. She'd really been looking forward to it too.

Tonks found herself feeling absurdly guilty for not letting the younger girl indulge her voyeuristic pursuits. The whole conversation was too weird for this hour in the morning.

Fortunately, she was saved from any further awkwardness when Harry came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a bathrobe and his hair still wet from a shower. He took one look at the dejected looking Luna and the conflicted looking Tonks and frowned in consternation. Had they been arguing? He'd deliberately removed himself from the situation because he figured it would be easier for the two of them to talk without him there. And also because he had no idea how to tell his girlfriend that he didn't have the heart to tell Luna to stay away at night.

"What did I miss?"

XXXXX

The last few days of the summer holidays passed without incident and the time to return to Hogwarts came about all too soon. Luna still had times when she blanked out, but she seemed to be eager about going back. Harry wasn't. Going back to the castle just didn't hold the appeal it used to. It was too restrictive.

But he was going anyway. For Luna's sake and for what little use he still had for the Hogwarts curriculum. He was still intending to find a way to ditch the school early though.

There was just one thing that needed to be done before going back.

"You want me to do what?" Penny asked, bemused.

"I want you to research how muggleborns are seen in the other magical communities." Harry repeated patiently.

"Why the sudden interest?" The former Ravenclaw asked curiously.

"Just something I was thinking about a while ago." Mostly a worry about the number of bitter wizards and witches the mundane governments could potentially recruit. It might be just paranoia, but he didn't think that could end well if he was right.

"Alright, I can do that." Penny said thoughtfully. "Where am I supposed to start though?"

"Not a clue." Harry shrugged. "Maybe there are magical Ambassadors from other countries somewhere in Britain? It's not especially time sensitive, so feel free to take your time. I'd also like you to thoroughly research the procedure for transferring money from Gringotts to another bank."

"I get the feeling that this is a bit more important than you're making it out to be." She said with a frown.

"It might be." Harry admitted. "Or it might be nothing. Right now it's just a hunch and a bad feeling, that's why I need you to do this for me."

Penny agreed to do it and didn't press any further, for which Harry was thankful. He didn't want to share his suspicions until he had something more solid. Even Penny's research wouldn't really confirm anything. To do that he'd need to actively spy on the mundane government, which wasn't something that he was really intending to do. Frankly, he wasn't so attached Wizarding Britain in its current form that he would bother taking risks to protect it.

He would however like to have a heads up if things were going to go sideways.

XXXXX

 **The next chapter will hopefully be out faster than this one was, but I make no promises.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 is finally arrived. It would've been here sooner but I got a bit distracted playing Overwatch.**

 **Anyway, credit for his help as a beta go to Joe Lawyer as always.**

XXXXX

Sitting crosslegged on his bed Ravenclaw Tower after the welcome feast was finished, Harry pondered.

The Tri-Wizard Tournament was going to be held at Hogwarts this year. He'd come across some peripheral mention of it in a book somewhere before, but hadn't investigated beyond the basics. Why read about a practice that had been abandoned for centuries?

The prize money or the 'Eternal Glory' didn't interest him much, but he was still curious about the tournament itself now that it was actually going to be happening. Perhaps some investigation was required after all. Fortunately, he had someone else to do it for him now. He'd have felt guilty about dumping all his errands and curiosities on Penny if he wasn't paying her for it.

Rummaging around in his Bag of Holding, he took out the mirror that connected to Penny's. He had another two, one for Sirius and one for Dora.

He wished that he could just use one mirror for all of them, but the magic involved made that extremely difficult. It was a variant of the Protean Charm that allowed them to function as a communication device and also what made multiple links so hard. Creating a 'master' object and many 'slaves' was relatively simple, but that would only allow the master to send out a signal. The mirrors were two master objects linked together. Harder, but doable. Creating a network of master objects started becoming exponentially more difficult with every new one added. Worse still, once the enchantments were in place, trying to add another mirror into it destabilized the whole thing.

Harry knew that if he could figure out how to do it, he would very quickly become the wealthiest wizard in the world by a ludicrous margin. The advent of mobile phones had certainly proved how much money there was in that field. Magical video calls would be infinitely superior to sticking one's head in a fireplace, not to mention more convenient.

Alas, a project for the future. For the moment, he still had to carry around three mirrors.

"Harry?" Penny questioned, obviously confused that he would contact her so quickly after coming to Hogwarts.

"Hi, Penny. I've got another job for you." He said with a wry grin.

"Alright, lay it on me." She said easily. There was still little enough work for her to do that she had no problem with taking on something else.

"I need you to research the Twi-Wizard Tournament for me."

"The Tri-Wizard Tournament?" Penny repeated in confusion, having never heard of such a thing.

"Apparently it's some kind of dangerous competition between Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons that was abandoned centuries ago because the body count got uncomfortably high. Someone decided that it would be a good idea to bring it back. They've been keeping it secret up to now, but it'll probably be in the papers tomorow." Harry explained.

Penny nodded thoughtfully and seemed to write something down before turning back to look at him. "How quickly do you need this done?"

"Not _too_ quickly." Harry said. "The champions won't be chosen until the other two schools arrive, which is at Halloween, so you've got plenty of time."

"Shouldn't take me anywhere near that long." Penny said. "I'll get back to you when I have something."

"Thanks, Penny."

His mirror returned to showing his face and Harry put it away, still thinking. He knew that he wasn't old enough to enter the tournament since the rules were changed to prevent minors from entering, but he was still kind of tempted, if only to do something dangerous and do it well.

His recent encounter with the Death Eaters bothered him. He'd not acquitted himself well in that confrontation. Sirius had pegged them as the dregs of the Dark Lord's forces, bottom feeders blaming muggles and muggleborns for their own who had either lost their wealth or never had it to begin with, hoping to have some scraps thrown their way once Voldemort won. Parasites.

That was what had nearly killed him. The equivalent of street thugs that would have spent most of their days sitting on a couch in a grease stained shirt, living off social support, guzzling beer and yelling at politicians on a telly if they'd been born as muggles instead of purebloods.

The humiliation still burned long after the flames that had scarred his arm had gone out. He should have been able to crush all eight of them as if they were nothing, or at the very least make them rethink the idea of attacking him. But he hadn't been able to, because he hadn't bothered learning how to fight. Sure, he knew some pretty good spells and he had significantly cut down on the time it took to cast them without a wand since he'd started learning magic, but he didn't know how to actually _fight_.

He needed to learn before something like that happened again, before someone that wasn't dumb enough to gloat for an hour tried killing him.

Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody was the DADA teacher this year, Dora's mentor when she was still in training. She'd only had good things to say about him. Well, mostly good things. Harry would have liked to ask him for training on how to fight, but Sirius had told him that Moody was an old friend of Dumbledore's. How many pies did that old man have his fingers in anyway? Too many for sure. He'd just have to muddle through it for now and ask Dora if she was willing to share some Auror training over the holidays and the summer.

He was brought out of his thoughts when the door opened and Luna strolled in.

"Hello?" Harry said, bemused by her sudden entrance.

"Hello, Harry." Luna returned, walking up to his bed and starting to strip.

"Spending the night?" Harry asked.

"Yes." Luna nodded, putting her panties on top of the small pile of clothes that now took up a nearby chair and slipping between the covers, completely naked.

Harry rubbed a hand over his chin, unable to quite stop the smile that pulled at his lips. There was something about Luna's utter obliviousness to societal taboos that he just couldn't help but admire.

"Do you think that Durmstrang or Beauxbatons will bring any crumple-horned snorkacks with them?" Luna asked once he had settled into the now familiar spooning position.

"I don't know, maybe." Harry said lightly, sensing that Luna's mood was turning sad despite her idly vacant tone.

"Daddy really wanted to find one." She went on.

Harry held back a sigh. Luna had been making less mentions of her probably-nonexistent creatures since her father's death, leading him to think that maybe that had been Xeno's way of coping with the death of his wife and Luna had simply adopted it.

"I was thinking about asking Dora if she wanted to go on a trip with me next summer. You could come along if you want, maybe we'll find a snorkack." The original idea had been for just him and Dora to go somewhere, but taking Luna along too wouldn't be all that disruptive. She wasn't a needy child that had to be constantly supervised.

He might be, technically speaking, encouraging her delusions with this, but Luna was a big girl and he wasn't going to patronise her. If she wanted to look for snorkacks, nargles and blibbering humdingers, then he wasn't going to tell her that she shouldn't.

"Where would we go?" Luna asked, perking up with interest.

"I don't know yet." Harry shrugged. "Somewhere out of Britain."

"I'd like that."

XXXXX

Breakfast the next morning was a time of furtive glances and poorly veiled interest. People hadn't noticed his newly scarred arm during the welcoming feast, busy as they were with stuffing their faces and the _Prophet_ hadn't mentioned it(indeed, the _Prophet_ had mentioned the altercation at the World Cup as little as possible), so it was now garnering a lot of attention.

Harry knew that it was only a matter of time before someone couldn't keep their curiousity in check any more and would blurt out a tactless 'what happened to your hand?!'. Alternatively, the whispers would circulate through the Great Hall until they reached the Slytherin table, where a particular member of that house would think that he could somehow use this.

 _And here we go._ Harry thought to himself sarcastically, seeing that Malfoy had gotten up along with his two bookends and the surprise addition of Pansy Parkinson. Draco Malfoy was one of those rare people that prefered their humiliations to happen in public.

"Don't you have any decency, Potter?" The Slytherin demanded.

Harry raised an eyebrow in silent query, wondering where the blond was going with this.

"People are eating and here you are, showing off your disgusting mangled arm." He went on with a sneer.

Harry lifted up his sleeve to and turned his scarred limb over a few times, looking it over carefully. Yes, the scars were quite noticeable, but he would hardly call it mangled. The Ravenclaws around him honestly looked more intrigued than disgusted.

He finally looked back to the smug looking Draco and replied. "If they can eat with your face present, then my arm isn't likely to faze them."

Draco flushed angrily as the listening crowd burst into laughter at his expense. He'd been expecting Potter to try hiding his deformity, but instead he was treating it with complete indifference, as if there was nothing ugly about the scars.

"You can't talk to Draco like that!" Pansy snapped, glaring at Harry.

"And what are you going to do about it?" Harry asked coldly, quite deliberately projecting menace towards her.

Pansy went pale with sudden dread and stammered something, none too subtly moving to stand slightly behind Draco. For all her petty viciouness and sense of pureblood superiority, Pansy was still a child and a rather unremarkable one at that. Harry was both much stronger and had sent four souls screaming into the Void. She may not understand why the thought of butting heads with him filled her with a nameless fear, but that mystical sense that all magical beings possessed recognized danger even if she didn't.

"How'd you get the scars, Harry?" One brave Ravenclaw second year took the opportunity to ask.

"I was playing with fire." Harry answered unhelpfully.

"Did it hurt?" The same Ravenclaw asked.

"What do you think?" Harry asked back caustically, making the twelve-year-old boy shrink back into his seat as his face turned with shame.

Luna took a moment away from her food to pat Harry on the leg. This was why Harry didn't have many friends. True, it had been a stupid question, but there was no need to be mean about it.

"At least it matches your forehead, I suppose." Draco butted in, once again sneering.

"Why are you still here, Draco?" Harry asked with a put upon sigh. "You're not going to win anything here, so why don't you just take what little dignity you have left and limp back to the Slytherin table?"

The peanut gallery laughed again, clearly amused by how one-sided the exchange was. This had been a form of amusement for Hogwarts ever since Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had been first years. Harry would be minding his own business, Draco would come looking to make an issue of something every so often and a verbal spar would ensue. It had been more even at first, but Harry had quickly outgrown the Malfoy scion in wit and now tended to shred him in moments.

Draco was well aware of the fact that he was coming off worse in these exchanges, but his pride wouldn't let him leave well enough alone. He was a Malfoy, and no halfblood with delusions of grandeur had any right to be better than him. The fact that Harry was consistently getting the best of him flew in the face of everything he believed in.

That was why he couldn't do as Harry had – however insultingly – suggested and back down. No, he had to retaliate somehow, even if it was just to get the last word in.

"Watch yourself, Potter or you might end up like Loony's father." He threatened.

XXXXX

"POTTER! WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" Came the enraged yell from the staff table.

Harry didn't really have anything in mind when he'd stood up. He'd felt the spike of pain and grief from Luna at Malfoy's threat, seen her jerk as if she'd been electrocuted and simply acted. Now there was a slight sting of pain in his hand, Malfoy was moaning on the floor with a broken jaw, Crabbe and Goyle had been sent flying and Pansy seemed to have lost control of her bladder.

His temper had gotten away from him again. He'd really thought that he'd handled that problem already. Though he was admittedly a bit overprotective of Luna right now, so that might be the real issue. Or it could be because he already had a bone to pick with Malfoy over what he'd done to Penny. Or maybe it was because the Sun was up. He was always more temperamental during the day, when the Light's fire was strong. Probably all of the above.

He didn't answer Snape's bellowed question. It was rhetorical anyway. He looked down at the Malfoy scion instead. It was kind of funny how the blond idiot managed to do this to himself at the start of every year. It was almost like all sense of caution was wiped from his mind over the summer.

"A hundred points from Ravenclaw and detention with me for two months!" Snape raged, looking over his Slytherins.

"No." Harry said blandly. He had better things to do than serve detention, especially over a worthless sack of shite like Malfoy.

"No?" Snape repeated dangerously.

"No." Harry confirmed, undaunted. Snape had been intimidating a few years ago, with his hateful glares, the authority of his position as a teacher and most of all the hateful feel of his magic, but things were different now.

Now Harry was just as tall as him, had little use or respect for him as a teacher and had recently survived a brush with death. Snape was simply not that scary anymore.

"You don't seem to understand how things work around here, Potter." Snape said in a deadly whisper that belied his rage. "You don't make the rules, no matter how famous you are. If I say that you'll be serving detention for the rest of the year, then you _will_ be serving detention for the rest of the year."

"You can serve it yourself, I have better things to do." Harry said bluntly, not even bothering to acknowledge the change in length. It made no difference since he wasn't planning to attend anyway. It was really too bad, he could have almost liked Snape at one point, but the man had serious anger management problems and clung to his grudges with near fanaticism.

"I'll see you expelled." Snape growled, his sallow face turning a blotchy red as all his buttons were pushed.

"That'll be the day." Harry snorted, knowing full well that it wasn't going to happen with Dumbledore around. Even if it did, he wouldn't be entirely displeased. Sure, he'd have to pull Luna out too because he didn't want her to be here without him, but there were alternatives. Sure, they'd snap his wand and tell him that he was not to use magic anymore, but he would simply move out of the country and do it anyway. The chances of him getting expelled were pretty much nil though, even with Malfoy senior on the Hogwarts board of governors. Dumbledore wouldn't want him removed from his influence.

Snape's face went an even more unhealthy color as he most likely realized that last truth.

"I never want to see you in my classroom again, Potter." The Potions Master growled and started levitating his unconscious student to the infirmary.

"Agreed." Harry called after him, genuinely pleased by this. He'd been thinking of blowing off Potions and several other classes anyway, which was why he was so well informed about the likelihood of expulsion to begin with. Potions was a useful skill, but Snape didn't know how to teach for shit. He'd learn on his own. The only benefit to going to his classes was having someone around to keep cauldrons from exploding, which Snape often deliberately failed to do anyway when he wanted to humiliate some non-Slytherin.

XXXXX

Albus Dumbledore had not been present at breakfast that morning, but word of the altercation reached him quickly. He needed to talk to Harry about it, but first he had to find him. Albus had a hunch on his whereabouts.

As suspected, Harry was standing on top of the Astronomy Tower. Again. The young man's fascination with that spot was really quite perplexing, especially as he knew that Fawkes occasionnaly went to join him.

"Headmaster." Harry greeted once Dumbledore came close enough, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon.

"Harry." Albus returned, moving to stand next to the student and noting with some surprise that he was actually a little shorter than the younger wizard. Harry had certainly grown quickly through whatever magical means he had employed. Perhaps an inch over six feet and with a lean build and a face that held a greater hint of Lily's sharper features than it once did now that the softness of youth was receding. A handsome young man that his parents would undoubtedly have been proud of.

"Here to get the other side of the story from this morning?" Harry asked.

"I believe I can guess at the truth." Albus said musingly. "Mr. Malfoy likely said something provocative, causing you to lash out violently. Professor Snape then assigned you a detention which you refused to attend."

"Why are you here then if you already know what happened?" Harry asked.

"Mostly to tell you that you cannot simply refuse to attend a detention when you have clearly earned it." Albus chuckled.

"Snape and I have reached an agreement about that." Harry said calmly. "I won't attend his detentions and in return he will not teach me Potions anymore."

"Harry, you shouldn't allow this enmity between you and Professor Snape to damage your education." Dumbledore chided gently.

"I'll learn Potions on my own. Snape isn't much of a teacher anyway."

"My boy, you were allowed to stop attending Charms and Transfiguration because the normal pacing of the curriculum was clearly too slow for you, but if you refuse to attend classes simply because you dislike the teacher, then perhaps I gave your maturity too much credit." Dumbledore sighed.

He didn't like stooping to what was essentially blackmail, but Harry needed to learn that he couldn't simply do as he pleased.

"Then you will probably be displeased to learn that in addition to my electives, Charms, Transfiguration and Potions, I won't be attending Herbology, History of Magic or Astronomy anymore either."

Dumbledore blinked in surprise. That hadn't been the reaction he'd been expecting. "Harry, that would mean that the only class you will be attending is Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"I'm aware of that." Harry nodded. "I'm simply not interested in Herbology or Astronomy and I doubt that I ever will be and Binns is even worse than Snape as a teacher."

"Strange that you would claim to have no interest in Astronomy yet spend so much time atop this tower." Dumbledore commented, trying to see if there was anything important about that.

"I like the view." Harry smirked.

"Am I to take it that you will refuse to attend any detentions given as well?" Dumbledore asked, getting back on track.

"I'll do my best to avoid any detention-worthy behavior." Harry replied in lieu of a confirmation.

"Except for skipping classes?"

"I can get a note from Sirius stating that he supports my decision if it makes you feel better." Harry offered.

Had he been a younger man, Dumbledore would have rolled his eyes in exasperation. Of course Sirius would support Harry's decision, he was exactly the sort to find his godson's rebelliousness amusing.

"Dare I ask how you intend to pass your OWLs if you will not attend classes?" He asked instead.

"I'll manage, and if not then I'm sure that I can bribe the examiners into giving me a passing grade."

"Harry." Dumbledore said with deep disapproval.

"What?" The younger wizard asked, looking unmoved. "That's how things work in Britain, isn't it?"

"The fact that some people take advantage of their wealth to get around the law is not a good reason for you stoop to their level." The old wizard sighed again. Harry was far too cynical. He wasn't wrong, but he was too cynical.

"I will gladly stoop to that level if it keeps me from wasting time on things I don't care about." Harry argued back stubbornly.

"Do you care nothing about the example you are setting?" Dumbledore asked. The boy was being most unreasonable.

"That's really not my problem." Harry reasoned. "I don't owe it to anyone to be an example."

Dumbledore frowned minutely. The lad didn't seem to realize, or perhaps didn't _want_ to realize, that he was always going to be an example.

"You have chosen the path of the powerful wizard." He countered. "As such, there will always be people looking up to you."

"Their choice, not mine." Harry said with a note of finality. "Was there any other school related matter you wanted to discuss?"

Dumbledore paused, easily seeing the implication that Harry was done talking about anything that didn't fall under his purview as Hogwarts Headmaster. Few people were willing to shut him down so blatantly. Something in Harry had hardened since the last time they'd spoken, but he supposed that it only made sense. Killing never made people softer. Never. He had the sense that all hope of having Harry see him as a mentor was lost. That was unfortunate, as he would now have to work towards the greater good the hard way.

"No, that was all." Dumbledore said genially. "Have a good day, Harry."

XXXXX

Once the old wizard was gone, Harry smirked to himself. He'd been right. Not a single word said about expulsion, no great argument about his cavalier atitude towards class, not even any real mention of how irregular or against the rules it was. Dumbledore didn't actually care what he did in Hogwarts as long as he was in Hogwarts.

Dumbledore was starting to get a little bit predictable. Only a little bit though, there was still no telling what he'd try in the future. He would need to be watchful. Perhaps he would have been better served to lie low, but he just couldn't do that anymore. Life was too short to waste time on things he didn't care about. He was most certainly not going to let the manipulative old bastard guilt trip him into anything. The nerve of him to imply that it was up to Harry himself to deal with Snape's attitude problem instead of Dumbledore's.

Shaking those thoughts off, Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing intently on the sunlight shining down on him. Ever since his accidental discovery of the dementor effect he'd produced by focusing too deeply on the Dark during the World Cup, he'd been carefully exploring both that and the other end of the spectrum.

 _Inhale_. Slowly pull Light into himself.

 _Exhale._ Release, let it settle.

 _Inhale._ Draw it deeper, washing over his soul. His runes tingled warmly.

 _Exhale._ Release. The Light began to drain out of him through _Arhain_ , the small but bottomless spot of Dark, seeking balance as dictated by _Yen'Lui_.

 _Inhale._ Pull on more Light. Enough to make his runes heat up painfully in warning, enough to become restlessly energetic, enough to know that his eyes were glowing like emerald torches in his skull, enough to feel as if he could eat fire and shit lightning.

 _Exhale._ Release.

A small burst of flame and a familiar phoenix appeared on his shoulder.

"Well if it isn't my favorite sunbro." Harry said dryly as Fawkes started rubbing his head into his neck, jaw and any other place he could reach, almost like a cat actually. "Today, we are both so grossly incadescent."

Fawkes burst into joyous phoenix song as a response.

A wild exhultation rose up in him and Harry stumbled to his knees as rationality fought against the mad desire to take a running leap off the Astronomy Tower, for no other reason than to feel the wind rushing past him.

"Don't do that." He snapped at the phoenix as he got back on his feet, receiving an ambiguous chirp from the bird in response.

This was the problem with Light. Whereas Dark muted emotions and made him feel detached from the world, Light drove them wild. Had he been in this state when Draco had made his blustering threat, he'd have fried him without even thinking about it. If Dora was here and did so much as smile at him, he would have torn her clothes off and taken her on the spot. Might have done it with any woman actually. Might not even have cared if they were willing. He wasn't intending to find out.

On the upside...

He tensed and a ring of fire billowed outwards from his body. He barely even had to focus to do it. It was in some ways even easier than with a wand, though his compromised state of mind didn't allow for a particularly varied spell selection. It was all brute force and no finesse. Fire was especially easy. That probably had something to do with why phoenix feather wands were so well suited to sharp bursts of power, the firebirds being so closely linked to the Sun.

It was at once both wonderful and terrible. Such a feeling of power and drive, of life unrestrained. It was as if there was nothing that he couldn't do, nothing that he couldn't survive. At the low, low cost of any semblance of impulse control. And the sense of invincibility was deceptive on top of it.

Harry slumped as the last of the excess Light was sucked out through _Arhain_ like water down a drain, leaving him feeling a bit tired and lethargic but blessedly calm. Both Light and Dark carried the risk of overindulgence. The aftermath of indulgence in Dark made the world seem so very _loud_ and needlessly difficult and Light made him feel lethargic and empty, as if he'd just come down from an adrenaline rush.

Fawkes trilled sadly as his second favorite human stopped blazing with Light.

"Don't give me that, you mcnugget." Harry chided and ruffled the firebird's chest feathers. "I'm all ears if you know how to control this, but I've got no interest in becoming some kind of magical berserker that will kill anything, fuck everything and can't think more than three seconds in advance."

Fawkes sang something that sounded remarkably like a shrug. He had no idea how the bird had managed to do that.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Harry muttered.

XXXXX

Fred and George hadn't known quite what to think when Harry Potter had asked to talk to them in private. The last time he'd asked to talk to a Weasley in private, it had been to buy a pet rat that was actually an Animagus.

"I want to hire you." He said simply, causing the twins to look at each other with raised eyebrows.

"Hire us?" Fred repeated.

"To do what?" George finished.

"To prank the ever loving shite out of Draco Malfoy." Harry answered.

"You may have come to the right place." The twins chorused with wide grins.

"Excellent." Harry drawled with a smirk. "Just so we understand each other, I don't want this to be something that he can laugh off. I want him to be afraid of leaving his common room at the start of every day."

The grins faded a bit as they realized that there was some real malice behind this.

"You don't think that breaking his jaw was enough for what he said the other day?" Fred asked.

"Oh, this has nothing to do with that." Harry explained. "You remember Penelope Clearwater?"

"Of course, Percy's ex-girlfriend." George nodded.

"Perfect Percy really dropped the quaffle with her." Fred added.

"Well it would seem that Malfoy junior couldn't stand the indignity of being put in detention by a 'mudblood' and got his father to ruin her chances of ever getting a decent job in magical Britain. That's why I want him to suffer some real indignities."

"When you put it that way it does sound like he needs a good pranking," Fred admitted.

"I'm glad you agree." Harry said. "So will you do it?"

"I'd like to know why you care so much about Penny first." George said with a smirk.

"Could it be that not-so-ickle Harriekins has a crush on our uptight brother's ex-girlfriend?" Fred continued with the same smirk.

"Yes, Harry. Are you in _loooooove_ with Penny?" George finished, wagging his eyebrows.

Harry raised an eyebrow at the rather sad attempt at flustering him, though he had to admit that it would likely have worked if he hadn't artificially sped up his maturation.

"She's a friend and she works for me." He replied simply.

"Works for you?" The twins asked in surprise.

"Yes. I needed a personal assistant to handle my mail and finances and Penny has been doing a great job of it so far. In that respect, the Malfoys actually did me a favor, but I still want Draco to suffer for it, which is why I'm now asking you if you're up for it.

The twins were silent for a long moment as they digested this, but then George spoke up with an interesting gleam in his eye. "You said that you wanted to hire us, I assume that means payment?"

"I wouldn't expect you to spend your time pranking someone for free." Harry said with a completely straight face.

"Brother mine, I do believe that not-so-ickle Harriekins is sassing us." Fred said.

"I was indeed getting that impression myself." George concurred.

"I was going to pay you, but I won't say no if you're willing to do it for free." Harry said idly.

"We will be glad to accept this commission, Mr Potter. Now let's talk numbers." George said with a faux pompous accent.

"I'll pay for the supplies you need plus a galleon for every prank you pull on Malfoy."

The twins' eyes widened slightly in surprise but they got themselves under control with admirable speed.

"That's very generous of you, but seeing as we are the only dedicated pranksters in the castle, perhaps we should be getting _five_ galleons for every prank." Fred said.

"Supply and demand." George added sagely.

Harry looked at them flatly at the ridiculous number. "What are you, goblins? One galleon per prank and five for the ones that are especially humiliating." Still pocket change for him, but it would provide incentive.

They looked pensive for a moment and then nodded, apparently deciding that it was the best they were going to get. "Alright, we can go with that, but what would you say to ten galleons for the ones that are especially creative?"

"I don't care how creative you are." Harry said bluntly. "For me, this is about making Malfoy suffer. As far as I'm concerned, you can walk up behind him, smash him over the head with a beater's bat and call it a prank."

The twins exchanged another look, perturbed by the open malice that Harry was showing. They didn't like the idea of picking on someone like this even if Malfoy had clearly earned himself a little payback. This went beyond pranking and became bullying.

But they really needed the money if they were ever going to open their joke shop. The materials weren't cheap and Bagman had cheated them out of their savings at the World Cup. With Harry's offer, they could experiment with someone else's money and get paid for it. Short of someone just up and giving them a huge chunk of gold, it was exactly what they needed.

The only problem was that it required them to single someone out and make their lives miserable with a constant stream of pranks. It wasn't really like them to focus on someone like that.

But in the grand scheme of things, their dreams of owning a joke shop weighed much more heavily than an easily disliked blood purist like Draco Malfoy, so they accepted the deal.

XXXXX

Harry was surprised to discover that he actually enjoyed Moody's class. Sure, the man was a paranoid nutcase exactly as bad as Dora had said, but he definitely knew his stuff. He tended to focus rather heavily on the combat side of DADA, which made sense given that he looked as if he'd been in quite a lot of it. Not that Harry was complaining about that.

It also helped that the man did know how to teach, no doubt due to having trained Aurors in the past. Lupin hadn't been a bad teacher by any stretch, but he had been a bit on the timid side, not to mention his constant akwardness around Harry. It would appear that DADA would finally be enjoyable. That was good, as this was the sort of subject where practical experience was much more valuable than textbooks.

He wished that he could have asked the man for private lessons on how to fight. But Moody had been more a friend to Dumbledore and a member of his Order of the Phoenix than an Auror even twenty years ago. He'd probably be too busy anyway.

But there were alternatives. Perhaps it wouldn't be as good as being trained by a legendary Auror, but it would work well enough for a start.

"What is this place?" Luna asked curiously, looking around the room that Harry had led her into.

"It's called the Room of Requirement and it apparently shapes itself to the desires of whoever uses it. The house elves told me about it." Harry explained.

"Neat." Luna said with a dreamy smile, still looking around at the mostly empty space that the room was currently configured into.

"Now I want you to take out your wand and cast stinging hexes at me." The dark haired wizard said.

Luna took out her wand and cast a stinging hex at him without batting an eyelash.

"Ow!" Harry yelped, more in surprise than any real pain. "I didn't mean right away."

"But you said now." Luna pointed out reasonably.

Harry rubbed a hand over his jaw and sighed, ruefully admitting to himself that he had indeed said that. "Let me just explain the how's and why's and then you can start, okay?"

"Okay."

"Right. I've decided that I need to learn how to fight and this seems like a good way of doing it." He noticed that her eyes became a bit more vacant as he said this, no doubt reminded of her father's death, so he hurriedly went on. "You'll cast spells at me and I'll try to dodge and maybe throw a wandless spell back at you if I can manage it. Ready? Go!"

Luna might not be an Auror or even a combatant, but this should work just fine for now. Moreover, Harry knew that he could trust her implicitly and this would allow them to do something together. Luna for the most part didn't grieve in the same way as other people, but she was hurting all the same. Spending time with her and giving her something to do was the only thing that Harry could think of to help her.

XXXXX

"Stop!" Harry gasped, greedily gulping down air.

Luna obliged and tucked her wand behind her ear.

The past couple of hours had been most enlightening in several ways and Harry had discovered quite a few things.

For example, he had learned that dodging a barrage of spells wasn't as simple as it seemed on paper. He'd taken more than one spill across the ground because he'd lost his balance. It didn't help that his prolonged growth spurt had left him a touch clumsy. It wasn't a problem on a day to day basis since the growth had still been gradual even if it was unnaturally quick, but it had certainly come into play when trying to do something more balance intensive than walking.

He could finally sympathise with his girlfriend, though her clumsiness had more to do with her unintentionally adding or taking away an inch or two of height with her Metamorphmagus ability and discovering it the hard way.

Another thing was that he lacked stamina. Oh sure, his runes, magic and the low fat foods he'd asked the elves to bring him had prevented him from getting pudgy despite his intake, but he'd barely done any exercise in his life. He hadn't lasted fifteen minutes before needing a short break to catch his breath. He knew that Aurors were expected to keep in shape – barring any crippling injuries – and now he knew why. Jumping around in the middle of a fight was fucking tiring. Dora has asked him if he wanted to join her when she went jogging, but he'd turned her down. She was going to be insufferably smug about that when he broached the topic again.

Next was the fact that he couldn't cast wandlessly and dodge at the same time. Not yet at any rate. The focus required to properly cast a spell was simply too much to be able to do it while dodging. Practice would no doubt make it possible, but it would probably restrict him to quick and simple spells that he could weave together without needing to devote his full focus to the task. Shortcuts like wands and emotion powered magic were also viable options, but they had their own drawbacks. The former being stiff and inflexible and the latter volatile.

At least he'd gotten to test how well his runes worked. The magic resistance they gave him meant that Luna's spells had barely stung and been quickly flushed out. It was honestly about time that he got some tangible benefit out of those aside from his enhanced growth.

"Should I start again?" Luna asked after a few minutes.

Harry considered it. He knew that they'd have to do this for quite a while before he'd get any good at it...but he was pretty tired and it was almost time for dinner.

"I think we'll call it a day." He finally said.

"Oh, okay." Luna said, honestly feeling a bit disappointed. It had been fun.

"We'll do it again tomorrow if you're up for it." Harry said, wanting to cheer her up. Since he was taking only one class, he had plenty of time.

"I'd like that." She smiled.

"And now I'm going to take a bath. I stink." He declared with a theatric sniff of his armpit.

"I'd like to take a bath too." Luna said dreamily. Usually it was only the prefects and head students that had access to genuine baths instead of showers.

Harry simply nodded and willed the Room of Requirement to create two bathrooms for them. It really was an amazing piece of magic.

Much to his consternation, Luna went into the same bathroom as him insead of the extra one.

"Errr, Luna?" Harry began awkwardly.

"Yes, Harry." Luna asked, pausing in the act of undressing.

"You know that there's another free bathroom right next to this one, right?"

"Yes." Of course she knew, but that one didn't have Harry in it.

"Just checking." Harry sighed and resigned himself to the inevitable. Luna had spent every night so far in his bed instead of her own and now she was apparently going to do the same with the bath. He could tell her to no, but that would involve actually looking her in the eye and saying no. Besides, he knew that there was nothing sexual about this for his blonde friend.

"Will you wash my hair?" Luna asked with an eager smile. Her mother used to wash her hair.

"Sure." Harry agreed. He might as well if they were going to be sharing a bath.

XXXXX

"Luna, why did you come out of the boy's side of the tower this morning?" Ginny asked as they made their way to Charms class.

"I spent the night with Harry." Luna answered. The two of them were still friends even if Ginny and Harry weren't anymore. That was a bit sad, but some people just don't fit well together.

"You spent the night...with Harry?" Ginny repeated numbly, her opinion of her former friend plummeting even further than it had when she'd learned that he was fooling around with those upper year girls.

Oblivious to the conclusions that the redhead was jumping to, Luna nodded. "Yes, it's very nice."

Ginny had no idea what to say to that, so she simply scowled.

This conversation was meant to be private, but this was Hogwarts so they were naturally overheard. Before the day was out, it was known that Harry and Luna were an item and already having sex. The fact that they often disappeared together was taken as confirmation.

XXXXX

The following days passed more or less uneventfully. Word inevitably got around that Harry wasn't participating in the majority of his classes, which caused some envious muttering from people who didn't want to attend either, but little else. A few confronted Harry about it, but only got a dismissive 'I have no parents to make me go' as a response, which quickly shut people up. The dead parents conversation killer continued to be useful.

Oddly enough, both Harry and Luna remained mostly insulated from the rumors going around about them. Neither was exactly socially connected and everyone just sort of assumed that they knew everything already and didn't bother asking them about it. Harry spent most of his time away from the general student population anyway and Luna mostly tuned out the whispering. Ginny had been the one to tell them about pertinent rumors the previous years, but she was the unknowing instigator in this case.

Currently, the two were giving more fire to those rumors with what had become their almost daily sessions in the Room of Requirement.

Harry had built up some endurance and gotten enough of a handle on his footwork that he wasn't crashing to the floor all the time, but he still got hit with plenty of spells. The fact that Luna's accuracy and speed were improving alongside his dodging skills also had something to do with that.

He still had trouble getting off a spell while staying in motion though. The mental flexibility required to think of offense while evading attack simply eluded him.

Harry clenched his jaw as another stinging hex hit his thigh, frustrated more than in pain. He barely felt the sting through his magic resistance, but felt it he did. This would be so much easier with a wand. Just wave it through the air and think about what you wanted and it would happen, barely any thinking required. No wonder wizards had become so dependent on them.

The next three spells he dodged, but found himself too unbalanced and out of position to manage with the fourth. He instinctively used his arm as a shield. The stinging hex bounced off his arm as it hit and went sailing back towards Luna, forcing his friend to jump out of the way of her own spell.

Harry grinned at the event as Luna righted herself. That kind of thing had been happening with increasing regularity. He may not have managed to cast anything offensive while dodging, but it had done wonders for his ability to conjure up shields. At this rate he'd be soon able to wandlessly create shields with ease. It was limited to his arms for now since that was the first bodypart that came to mind as a means of shielding, but he was sure that he would eventually be able to manage it elsewhere. It wouldn't make him invulnerable to spells since some were too powerful to block like that, but being able to deflect low tier offensive spells like this would still be useful.

"More?" Luna asked with a smile as she righted herself.

Harry brushed a few rebellious strands of hair out of his face and nodded, preparing himself for another round of dodging.

Then both of their heads snapped towards the side when one of the communication mirrors began vibrating.

"Timeout I guess." He said and went to answer. "Hey, Penny."

"Was I interrupting something?" The former Ravenclaw asked with a raised eyebrow, seeing that Harry was a bit flushed and had a light sheen of sweat on his face.

"Good evening, Penelope." Luna said as she sat down next to Harry so that she could see into the mirror.

Penny blinked, seeing that her fellow blonde had a similar look of slight dishevelment to her. What in the world had they been up to? Probably best not to ask.

"Hello, Luna." She said and got right to the point. "I have the information you asked for on the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"Nice, let's hear it.

"It was first conceived just over seven hundred years ago as a peaceful means of determining which of the three magical schools of the time was the best." Penny began, her tone turning wry at the end. "Apparently, relations between Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons was quite a bit more hostile in those days and it wasn't unheard of for arguments to be settled with violence. The winner of the tournament would essentially get bragging rights and the prestige of being known as the next up and coming witch or wizard."

"But then it got cancelled because of the death toll." Harry said with a nod, having heard that much already.

"Yes, once the Ministries of Magic started showing up, regulating magic use and making the separation between the magical and muggle worls more stringent, the number of random magical duels started declining rapidly. When all three champions got killed in 1792, it was determined that it was too brutal a competition for the times."

"So why would they bring it back?" Harry asked.

"No idea." Penny shrugged. "I asked a few people in the Ministry and they essentially told me that Ludo Bagman had gotten it into his head to resurrect it and managed to convince the right people."

"Did you learn anything about the selection process?" Harry asked, an idea forming. Dumbledore had only said that the choosing would be impartial.

"I did actually. They use a magical artefact called the Goblet of Fire to determine who's worthy to be chosen as a champion."

"Goblet of Fire?"

"A joint project between the Headmasters of the three schools for the fifth tournament to ensure that only the most capable would be able to compete. They used a lottery system of sorts before that, but decided that a better arbiter was needed since it got weak wizards picked more than once. Entering your name constitutes a binding magical contract with the Goblet to compete on pain of losing your magic, or death in other words. It's also been considered as a rite of adulthood in the old days because you're essentially taking your life into your own hands by entering your name." Penny explained.

"So if I were to enter my name, I'd be considered a legal adult?" Harry asked contemplatively. His status as a minor hadn't been a huge problem lately since he now had Sirius to act in his name if he needed it, but he was getting antsy to take a look at the Potter family vault in Gringotts.

"Only if your name gets picked, and you'd still exist in a sort of legal limbo until the tournament is finished. Apparently it doesn't come into effect until the end to avoid unnecessary paperwork just in case you die before that." Penny explained and then frowned at him. "You aren't actually thinking of entering are you?"

"I am." Harry admitted.

"But isn't entry restricted to people who've already had their seventeenth birthday?"

"So?"

"Harry, don't do anything stupid." Penny sighed, looking worried. "This tournament is dangerous."

That just made it more attractive for him. Doing something dangerous in a semi-controlled environment sounded exactly like what he needed if he wanted to be more prepared for the next group of belligerent wizards with a grudge. He might not be getting XP points from it, but experience with dangerous situations was certain to be even more valuable.

"I'll be careful." He assured her.

"But you're still going to enter." She said flatly.

"Yes."

"Fine." Penny sighed. She'd gotten quite fond of Harry lately and didn't want to see him getting hurt, but she knew that he was a lot more stubborn than you'd give him credit for at first. "I also have the details for transfering money out of Gringotts."

Harry's eyebrows climbed up his forehead at Penny's terse tone as she said that. She must have found something unpleasant, which wouldn't be a surprise with goblins involved.

"So, how is it done?"

"It isn't." She said flatly. "Gringotts money isn't a valid currency anywhere except for places with another Gringotts bank, which means anywhere outside of Europe , India or Egypt. Places like the United States, Australia, South America and basically any magical country that isn't a member of the ICW have their own currency. It's even considered an international felony for anyone but a goblin to melt down the coins."

"You have got to be shitting me." Harry stated, stunned. He'd expected that the diminutive little bastards would have some kind of crap going on, but this? "But wait, couldn't I just turn all the gold into muggle money and transfer it that way?"

"You could, but you'd have to do it a rate of a hundred galleons per day unless you want to be charged a 80% fee for the service."

"80%!?" Harry exclaimed in shock. "What kind of insane rate is that?!"

"From what I can tell it's a transparent ploy by the goblins rob anyone that tries to stop using their services." Penny said with a slight scowl of her own. "You _can_ withdraw all of your gold if you want, but large scale transactions always go through Gringotts and have unreal fees attached to them if only one side has their gold inside the bank, plus you don't get the benefit of having it protected. And of course, it's illegal to conduct any transaction larger than a hundred galleons without Gringotts as a middle man. The people in the Goblin Liasons Department won't openly admit it, but the goblins have had a deathgrip on the European magical world's economy ever since the last war. The entire system is designed to maintain the goblin monopoly on gold."

"Awesome." Harry sighed sarcastically. That explained a lot. The little fuckers were a hundred times worse than the dwarves in Lord of the Rings. They'd have kept digging even if they knew there was a Balrog waiting for them. He hadn't realized the true depth of their greed until now. No wonder that Gorefist had been so angry when he'd threatened to empty his vault back at the end of first year. Even if the gold had nowhere else to go than Gringotts, it wouldn't be in Gorefist's keeping anymore. Damn goblins would probably sooner sacrifice their firstborn than a pile of gold. The Americans had definitely been on to something when they'd wiped them out on their shores.

XXXXX

 _The second Saturday after the start of term._

Harry had a problem. He was debilitatingly aroused.

He knew it sounded funny, but it was true. It hadn't been a problem at first, but the longer he went without sex, the more distracted he was getting. He couldn't sit still long enough to read a book. He couldn't focus enough to brew a potion. His runes itched _all the time_ , his magic was restless and he was sporting a semi-permanent erection. Luna wasn't helping the situation at all by crawling into his bed every night.

This wasn't exactly a new problem. He'd had the same issue in the period between the end of third year and the first time he'd slept with Dora, it just hadn't been this bad. The difference was that he was rather more attached to his girlfriend than he had been to Bryanna and Tiana. His occasional attempt to harvest the power of the Sun without losing himself was also supercharging his runes. And of course, he now also had a girl who was not quite woman but not quite a child either snuggling him every night. Naked.

Talking to Dora over the mirror didn't really help. In fact, it was making things even worse since she'd caught on to his problem and started teasing him over it a few days ago.

It was for these reasons that a raven flew out of the Hogwarts wards on this particular evening. He knew where a certain Metamorphmagus lived and wasn't afraid of dropping by unannounced.

XXXXX

Nymphadora Tonks was not having a great day. It had been exhausting from start to finish.

She'd had the morning shift and as a result been up far earlier than she would have liked. Then she'd spent a sleep inducing hour finishing a report that she should have done yesterday. _Then_ Robards had sent her to break up a domestic disturbance between a pissed off witch, her husband and their attractive and lonely muggle neighbour. Telling a pissed off witch that she couldn't turn people, especially unaware muggles, into slugs was always so much fun. That stupid tradition of giving the rookie all the shit jobs was also grand. It had taken _hours_ to do the paperwork from that debacle, what with the violations to the Statute of Sececy, the illegal use of magic and the need for Obliviators.

When she'd finally gotten home, she had just enough energy to grab a plate of yesterday's leftovers that she'd put under a stasis spell, plop herself in front of the telly and let it lull her into a state of torpor as she ate.

A few hours later, she woke up with a crick in her neck and a head feeling like it was wrapped in cotton. She got up with a groan, knowing that she was going to have a devil of a time falling asleep later when she actually needed to.

 _I wonder what Harry's doing?_ She thought and briefly considered using the mirror he'd given her to call him before dismissing it. She'd just talked to him yesterday and had no desire to be one of those clingy girls who used every spare moment to badger their boyfriends, doubly so since she was so much older than him. And it wasn't his job to keep her entertained anyway.

But she missed the cheeky brat. She didn't really have an abundance of friends thanks to her choice of career and she'd gotten used to having him around. None of her coworkers were also friends outside of the job and her Hogwarts friends had long since drifted away to do their own thing while she was training with Moody. Harry was young enough to not be a stick in the mud and mature enough to not be childish. And it helped that he was great in the sack. Very important that.

Despite laughing it off a couple of weeks ago, she was a bit worried that he would find someone else to keep him company at night. There'd be no shortage of willing witches throwing themselves at him if he let it be known that he was looking, that was for sure. The fact that he'd turned down two such offers before did a lot to assuage that concern, but it didn't get rid of it. Harry certainly wouldn't be the first or last person whose libido got the better of them during a long separation.

 _I need to stop moping._ Tonks decided only to continue the thought sarcastically. _But the day is just so perfect for it!_

And it was. Aside from a more tedious than normal day at work, the weather had stayed at a dispirited drizzle the entire time. It was the kind of weather that could make you fall asleep out of sheer lethargy.

 _Maybe I really should get a computer, if only to see what the hype is all about._

Harry had mentioned that he was considering having Potter Manor renovated and electrical wiring installed. The problem with that idea was that it was warded to keep the non-magical away and he wasn't sure if there was enough magic around the old manor house to make electronics go screwy like they did in Hogwarts over time. It hadn't happened to his laptop so far, but there was no guarantee that it wouldn't happen to the wiring.

Tonks didn't have that problem since she lived in a perfectly mundane apartment complex in London. It wasn't the best of living spaces and paying the rent and picking up her owl post in Diagon Alley was a bit of a chore, but it got her out from under her parents roof and she liked the various perks of the Muggle World too much to live in a purely magical household. You couldn't get Chinese takeout delivered for one thing.

A knock had her head snapping towards the door.

"Coming!" She called out cheerily, moving towards it. It was too early for the landlord to be collecting rent, which meant that it was probably one of her parents. Or both of them. They could be annoying sometimes in the that typical way that only parents dropping in unannounced on their adult children could manage, but right now she was just glad for the distraction.

She was almost at the door when she started feeling strangely...horny. Hardly the typical reaction to having your parents come over and Tonks shifted akwardly in an attempt to tamp down on the heat blooming between her legs before she opened the door.

"Harry?" She blurted out in surprise, seeing her boyfriend standing there when he should have been way up in northern Scotland. He was slightly damp, clearly having been exposed to the rain for a short while.

He didn't say anything, electing to simply grab her and pull her into a kiss.

Tonks made a noise of surprise into his mouth that quickly turned into a moan. The earlier arousal that had come seemingly out of nowhere flared in strength, leaving her feeling as if a thick blanket of desire was pulled over her.

It didn't matter anymore how he was here, all that mattered was that he was and that he wanted her. She barely registered anything as he kicked the door closed and they stumbled their way towards her bedroom. She'd been handling their separation just fine despite missing him, but now that he was here she was desperate to feel him inside her again.

By the time that they reached her small, one person bed they were completely naked and fell into it eagerly, more than ready to skip right to the main event.

Which was why Tonks was extremely irritated to feel something digging into her back and forcing her attention away from the impending sex.

"Just a sec." She grunted and reached under herself to remove the offending object. "Aha!"

Her triumphant expression swiftly turned embarrassed as she realized that she was holding up Mr. Purple as if it was some kind of prize. To compound the situation, the enchanted dildo started wiggling around and vibrating.

"Impressive." Harry deadpanned. It _was_ a rather large dildo.

She just knew that her hair and face had to be tomato red about now, so she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into another kiss. Sex was a surefire way to get past an akward situation.

XXXXX

 _Later._

The sweaty lovers lay on the small-ish bed, Tonks on her stomach and Harry on Tonks, taking deep, calming breaths as their lust abated for the moment.

"Bloody hell, I needed that." The Metamorphmagus sighed, cheek pressed into the matress and just enjoying the feeling of having her young lover on her and in her.

"You aren't the only one." Harry murmured, nibbling on her ear and delighting in the shiver it elicited from her. "I was getting so horny I could barely think."

"I noticed." She chuckled. Her earlier concerns about him cheating on her seemed so silly now. "You skipped right over the foreplay."

"That's what you get for jilling yourself over the mirror."

"You could've looked away."

"As if!" Harry scoffed.

"Then don't complain." Tonks laughed.

"I'll show you a complaint." Harry growled playfully and began focusing.

"What are you on about?" She asked warily, feeling...something.

"You'll see." He said mysteriously. It was almost sundown, but he could still draw in a bit of Light.

Tonks felt herself flush with sudden arousal, far too sudden and powerful to be natural.

"What is this?" She gasped, subconsciously bucking her hips towards him in the hope that he would put his revitalized erection to good use.

"Just a little trick." He murmured into her ear, continuing to mingle his Light infused magic with hers, knowing exactly what effect it would have. He'd seen it happen with the veela at the World Cup, though that had been subtler and much longer ranged.

Tonks began wiggling insistently, barely holding back a needy whimper as her loins burned with desire. She had no idea what he was doing, but if he didn't start moving soon she might just have to get violent.

"Get on with it already!" She panted out with a growl half a minute later, bucking her hips back at him with all the force she could muster. The pleasure of the act made her gasp in surprise despite expecting it.

That was the end of Harry's self-control, which had been hanging by a thread at that point anyway.

XXXXX

 _Later._

"Dora?"

"Hmm?"

"You've heard about the Triwizard Tournament, right?"

"Mmm."

"I'm thinking of entering."

That got the Auror to snap out of her indolent daze and give him a queer look.

"Why would you do _that_? You hardly need the fame or the money."

"For the challenge. I don't want to be unprepared the next time I'm attacked." He admitted.

"Next time?" Tonks repeated with a frown. "You're expecting to get attacked again?"

Of course he was. The prophecy that he'd inadvertently tricked Dumbledore into revealing at the end of his first year now loomed over him constantly. Back then it had been a distant thing, like a thunderstorm on the horizon, not really something worth getting excited about. The recent attack had been like a smack across the face. The problem was a lot closer than he'd thought and the other side way playing for keeps.

Harry considered telling her about the prophecy and Voldemort's Horcruxes, wanted to even, had considered it before...but caution stopped him. He liked her, but he had no idea what would happen if he told her that. Would she want to help? Would she tell Amelia Bones like she was no doubt obligated to do? Secrets had a way of spreading once you started telling them to people and he definitely didn't want the Ministry catching wind of it. Best case scenario would be a constant Auror guard following him around. Worst case scenario would be Fudge panicking and doing something idiotic, like taking him into 'protective custody' somewhere and training him up as a weapon to get rid of Voldemort if he resurfaced. He might even get charged with some sort of crime for keeping that locket around instead of turning it in. And that wasn't even mentioning the numerous Death Eaters that still had high positions in the Ministry, or what Dumbledore would do. Too many variables.

"Yes, I am." He said instead. "I hear plenty of Death Eaters walked free. There's no telling when one of them will decide to take a shot at 'the Boy-Who-Lived'."

"You sound like Moody." Tonks huffed, both amused and exasperated. "Speaking of which, why don't you just ask him for help? He's your DADA professor this year and he'll like your sense of constant vigilance."

Harry made a face. He had a feeling that this next part of the conversation wouldn't go over well.

"I thought about it, but I don't trust him."

"Don't trust him?!" Tonks burst out, incredulous and indignant on behalf of her mentor. "Why the hell not? You think he's after you too?"

"No him specifically." Harry clarified. "It's Dumbledore I don't trust, and Moody is an old friend of his."

"Dumbledore?" She repeated, looking at him strangely. "Why wouldn't you trust Dumbledore? He's the greatest wizard in the world."

Harry sighed, slightly disappointed that Dora had bought into that bullcrap too but not really surprised. The old man knew a thing or two about public relations, that was for sure.

"I've got reason to suspect that he doesn't have my best interests in mind. He was Chief Warlock when Sirius was tossed into Azkaban but didn't bother arranging a trial for him and that's just one example of him doing things that make me wonder about his motives."

Tonks opened her mouth to question him further, but he preemted her. "I'll tell you about the others later if you want. I don't want to waste our time together talking about Dumbledore."

That conversation would require some preparation if he wanted to properly put a crack in the myth of 'Dumbledore the Infallible'.

"Oh? And how do you want to spend our time together?" She asked with a smile.

"I'm sure I could think of a few ways..."

XXXXX

 _Sunday morning._

"Good morning, Harry." Luna greeted. "You look much more relaxed today."

"I am more relaxed today." Harry agreed. Weekly booty calls – at least – to his girlfriend were a necessity. He'd go crazy otherwise.

"I'm glad Nymphadora was able to help, I was starting to get worried about you."

"How did you know where I went?" He asked curiously. He'd told her that he was leaving the castle for a night, but not where he was going.

"You were obviously desperate to put your penis in her vagina." Luna stated in that almost eerie calm tone that was uniquely hers.

Harry paused for a moment and then nodded with a sigh. There was no point in being shocked at Luna's bluntness anymore and she was right anyway.

"I wish I could have seen it." She continued with a pout.

Harry sighed again. It was too early in the morning to deal with Luna's voyeuristic streak and he was too hungry.

"Let's go get breakfast."

"Okay."


	16. Chapter 16

**A quick chapter this time. I'm finding myself pretty eager to move the story along.**

 **Many thanks go to Joe Lawyer for helping me polish up the chapter.**

XXXXX

 _Early October._

When Harry had first given her the task of finding out how muggleborns were viewed outside of Britain, Penny had guessed that it might take a while to find that out. What she hadn't expected was the sheer amount of obstructionism she'd encountered simply on account of her blood status.

More than one Ministry bureoucrat had outright refused to meet with her or simply continued to push back the date of their meeting until she gave up. The worst by far had been that Umbridge woman that was temporarily in charge of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, who had actually deigned to meet with her but spent the entire time making unsubtle insinuations that mudbloods had no business even living, much less asking questions in the Ministry. She'd thought that Harry had been exaggerating when he'd described how he'd been tempted to murder her within five seconds of their meeting at the World Cup, but now she fully understood the impulse.

To make matters even worse, Percy had been there too, having apparently been appointed the pink toad's personal secretary, no doubt on account of his pureblood status and ability to shove his nose so far up someone's arse that he could smell their breakfast. He'd stood behind Umbridge in silent support, chest puffed up self-importantly.

Penny really had to wonder how she had misjudged Percy's true nature so badly at Hogwarts. He'd seemed so reliable at the time, but now it was clear that he simply worshipped authority. She knew that he didn't even buy into the pureblood propaganda, but was quite clearly willing to go along with it if that was the way things were, the useless jerk.

Either way, the Ministry of Magic had essentially been a dead end as far as information went. It had taken her weeks just to learn how to get in contact with the ambassadors from the other magical nations, and even that had been learned from some random DIMC employee that she'd accosted in the hallway. Even then she had still needed to drop Harry's name before they would give her the time of day, something that she had avoided doing previously, purely out of a desire to be talked to as a human being in her own right. Penny had seen enough to know she'd be lucky to find one pureblood in twenty that wasn't a prejudiced arsehole, but she was a stubborn woman and quietly simmering in outrage at being looked down upon by small minded bigots that were determined to stay ignorant at all costs just so that they could feel important.

In any case, she was _finally_ going to be talking to the North American ambassador. She was a bit nervous about that, having never really imagined herself talking to people like this, but how bad could it be? Just ask a few polite questions and see how things went. If he turned out to be as bad as the people in the British Ministry upon learning that she was a muggleborn then it was probably safe to conclude that the US wizards and witches were as bigoted as the ones here and if he wasn't then she would learn even more.

It didn't really stop the nervous flutter in her stomach when she was called into the man's office, but she pasted a smile on her face and went in regardless.

"Ms. Clearwater." John Boyer said in greeting, shaking her hand and gesturing towards a chair in front of his desk. "I understand you had some questions for me?"

"Yes, Mr. Boyer, I do." Penny said, arranging her robes so that she could sit comfortably. She'd barely worn them since Harry had given her a job but felt that this conversation warranted it. Now she was just feeling silly since the ambassador himself notably wasn't wearing robes, but a somewhat old fashioned looking suit. If she didn't know he was a wizard, she would have pegged him as forty-or-so-year old man with dark brown hair, pale skin and a fondness for formal wear, though he was probably closer to sixty.

She took that as a good sign, knowing how obsessed the blood purists were about their traditions. They wouldn't have been caught dead dressed like that.

"Ask away." Boyer said with a diplomatic smile.

"Well...I suppose there's no way to ease into this, but I'd like to know how muggleborns are treated in magical North America." Penny said akwardly.

Boyer's face went momentarily blank and he leaned back into his chair. "That's an interesting question, Ms. Clearwater. Why would you want to know something like that?"

Penny fidgeted slightly at his neutral tone, wondering if she'd just given some kind of offense or something. She was definitely way out of her comfort zone here. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but British muggleborns like me face a lot of discrimination on account of not having magical parents. My employer asked me to investigate if that's the norm everywhere or if magical Britain was an outlier."

"And who is it that you work for?" Boyer asked, now becoming very interested. In fact, this was quite possibly the most interesting thing to have happened since he'd been given this ambassadorial job into the cess pit that was magical Britain.

"Harry Potter."

 _Yes, very interesting indeed._ If magical Britain's national hero was asking questions like this, then it meant that he was probably not too fond of his homeland's attitude, in which case it would behoove him to make immigration across the Atlantic sound like a good idea. Nothing would light a fire under the asses of the British like having their famed Boy-Who-Lived abandon them.

Not that Boyer expected it to be easy. He knew how things worked on this side of the sea. If Potter decided to move to North America, then he'd be coming with only the clothes on his back because all his gold belonged to Gringotts. There weren't many people who'd be willing to abandon their wealth and noble status in favor of starting with nothing in a new place.

He said nothing of his thoughts though and simply nodded thoughtfully. "And why does Mr. Potter want to know this?" It was always good to confirm your theories if possible.

"He didn't share his reasons with me." Penny said a tad stiffly.

Boyer nodded again. The girl was clearly new to this kind of thing and nervous, but was doing fairly well despite that. A more cagey diplomat wouldn't have given away information so easily, but she'd clammed up much faster than he'd expected she would.

"To answer your question, yes we are aware of the discrimination against first-generation mages and Britain is indeed an extreme example."

"I'm sorry, but 'first-generation mages'?" Penny asked, curious about the term. She supposed that mages was an alternative term for magicals, probably an American thing, but she didn't understand why the use of 'first-generation' instead of 'muggleborn'.

"That is the commonly accepted term for mages born to mundane parents, though 'newbloods' is also widely used." Boyer explained. "You see, the term 'muggle' as a descriptor for people without magic was coined sometime in the Middle Ages. Wizards and witches were generally much better educated in those days and tended to look down on the mundanes as uneducated cretins, or 'muggles'."

"I see." Penny said, frowning. She thought back to when she'd first learned that she had magic and Professor McGonnagal had explained that she was a muggleborn and her parents muggles. She hadn't thought much of it at the time, it being just another funny word to an eleven-year-old girl, but her parents hadn't liked it. Now that she had heard the origins of the word and thought it over again, she had to admit that it _did_ have an insulting feel to it. "So I'm being insulted even when people are trying to be polite?"

"Technically." Boyer shrugged. The more dirt he could throw at theBrits the better, especially when it was all true. "I doubt that the average person is aware of this, but the social elite almost definitely is."

"How are things for the first-generation in America then?"

"Pretty good actually." Boyer admitted proudly. "They do have a bit of catching up to do in comparison to those children that were born to magical parents, but they don't face any discrimination based on that. Our ancestors founded magical North America on a principal of equality no matter how many generations back your magical heritage goes." It was also founded on the blood and bones of the European magical nobility that had tried to entrench itself there, but that wasn't something that was talked about openly for the most part.

"You'e telling me that there's no discrimination at all?" Penny asked in disbelief, finding that very hard to believe.

Boyer hesitated and then answered with obvious reluctance. "Not against first-generation mages, no."

"Against who then?"

The American ambassador rubbed a hand against his mouth and sighed. He really didn't want to talk about this, but it was too late to back out of the conversation now. He would still try to sugar coat it as much as possible though.

"You know of course that the International Statute of Secrecy has been in place since 1692?"

"Yes." Penny nodded cautiously, wondering what he was getting at.

"What you may not know is that the Statute only made it official and put it into law. Wizards and witches actually started withdrawing from the public eye about a hundred or so years before the division of the Roman Empire. Realistically speaking, it would have been impossible to hide all traces of magic in a mere three centuries."

"That's very interesting," And it was, because Binns had never said anything about this as far as she knew. "but what does it have to do with discrimination?"

"I'm getting to that." Boyer said patiently. He knew full well that he was being long winded. "There were very few trained wizards and even fewer witches in those days, so it wasn't hard for them to vanish. The number of mages actually decreased considerably over the next few centuries due to the collapse of Rome and the subsequent rise of Christianity with their 'suffer not the witch to live' attitude. Then your Four Founders showed up and built Hogwarts."

"I don't get it." Penny admitted.

"You have to understand that something like Hogwarts had never existed before." Boyer explained. "Magic was previously taught within the family, master to apprentice or the occasional exceptional person that learned on their own. A school for magic that would track down and teach every single magic capable child within its range of detection was a massively ambitious project that nobody had even dreamed of before. The number of mages quickly increased, true communities began appearing and eventually a rudimentary government was formed. Seeing this success, Durmstrang was built in northern Scandinavia a couple of centuries later, Beauxbatons in France shortly after that and smaller schools across Europe quickly followed."

"I still don't see what this has to do with my question." Penny pressed, starting to get the feeling that the ambassador was either desperately trying to avoid answering the question or beating around the bush with a trully massive stick.

"Almost there." Boyer promised. "This was where the bias against first-generation mages first appeared. Before Hogwarts, nobody gave much thought to how far back your ancestors were magical because wizards and witches were by and large a people with no roots. Magic was magic and that was all that anyone cared about."

"Is that why the prejudice is so bad in Britain?" Penny asked.

"That and the fact that Britain was largely spared the purges, lynching and incidental deaths during both World Wars that swept the mainland. Grindelwald was especially hard on Europe's magical nobility, he was a Dark Lord that thought mages should rule the world, but cared nothing about blood status. He wiped out a good 70% of the old families simply to cripple their governments and steal whatever knowledge or artefacts they might have been hoarding, but he didn't operate in Britain out of fear of provoking your Albus Dumbledore to action."

Penny could certainly understand why a Dark Lord would want to rob the old families. A lot of the magic that Harry had in his own library was very powerful, as well as quite horrifying and illegal these days. Magic that a newcomer to magic had no hope of seeing anywhere except perhaps in the Hogwarts Restricted Section, but passes for getting in there weren't handed out lightly.

"What I'm getting at here is that aside from non-humans mages have only ever discriminated against those without magic." Boyer sighed.

"So...?" Penny prompted, still having no clue as to what he was getting at.

"So when our ancestors killed off the snobby purebloods two hundred and fifty years ago, our population was made up almost entirely of people who had less than four generations of magical ancestry, and that was considered extreme. We were once again a people with no roots aside from the few non-magical ones that children make before being introduced to magic."

"Oh." Penny breathed in realization. The magical world had lived insulated from the non-magical for centuries, but a new community established entirely by people who had cut themselves off from that would naturally draw from what they had.

"I see you're starting to understand." Boyer nodded somberly. "We don't have the same kind of trouble as you, but we have our own. Discrimination based on skin color was never a problem across magical Europe because they were so busy discriminating against 'blood purity', but magical North America was founded by people who had been taught that non-white people were subhuman and that carried over. Things have improved a lot in since then, especially since only about half of our population is white these days, but there is still some lingering resentment on both sides." The youth of today was especially helpful with doing away the old prejudices, but the old greybeards in power were stubborn and set in their ways.

"It still sounds like you're doing better than we are though." Penny offered. It was terribly disappointing to hear that racism based on skin color had leaked into the magical world too since the apparent lack of it was something that she'd been impressed by, but at least it seemed that the Americans were trying to fix it, which was more than Britain could honestly claim for their blood purity problem.

"We do take pride in doing better than you Brits." Boyer said jokingly, making her laugh. "But I suppose the comparison isn't really fair. The British magical community is the oldest in the world and has been around in one form or another for close to nine hundred years. Anything that old is bound to have a lot of mold growing on it."

"That's one way of looking at it." Penny agreed with a wry smile and stood up. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Boyer, it was enlightening."

"It was my pleasure, Ms. Clearwater. Feel free to come back if you have any more questions." He meant it too. Aside from being a more pleasant conversationalist than many Brits that he had to put up with as part of his job, he was still holding out some hope of getting Harry Potter to move to the US. Listening to British ministry officials cry was one of the few joys of this job.

XXXXX

 _Mid October._

"So that's the situation in North America." Harry said thoughtfully After Penny relayed what she'd learned. "Interesting, I hadn't considered that mundane prejudices might be a factor."

The end result was the same though. There would still be bitter people that the mundane government could prey on for recruitment, especially if things stayed true to form and the magical side remained behind the times. Troublesome. In particular because Canada was not a separate part of magical North America. Everything north of Mexico was magical North America and everything south of it was magical South America. That was one of the bigger differences between the mundane and magical parts of world, it was much less divided. Magical Canada had been the one region to come closest to splitting off, but it stayed part of North America in the end. Of course, the territory was massive and the magical population just a tiny fraction of its mundane counterpart, so the wizards and witches of the time had perhaps felt no need to squabble amongst themselves, which was more or less the same reason that Ireland and Scotland were under the purview of the British Ministry of Magic rather than being independent.

"What about Mexico?" That particular area was something that had baffled him ever since the first time he'd seen a political map of the magical world in its entirety and saw that it was considered under joint ownership by North and South America.

In the mirror, Penny frowned. "It's strange."

"Strange how?"

"According to my research, there are a lot of first-generation magicals born there, and by 'a lot' I mean _a lot_ , but no magical families seem to actually _live_ there. North and South America just divide the children born there between themselves for training." That bit of information had taken her the better part of a month to piece together and she still had no idea what it meant.

"That is strange." Harry agreed. "And there's no information on why wizards and witches don't want to live there?"

"Not really." Penny shrugged. "The only hint I got was in a curse-breaker's publication of all things, speculating that all of Mexico was somehow cursed, but nobody's ever been able to find any curses except for the fact that the place makes people feel uncomfortable. It's considered one of the great magical mysteries of the world."

Harry's mind flashed to something he'd read years ago, before he'd ever known about Hogwarts, a time when he'd spent his days googling the various old civilizations for references to magic. The Aztec Empire had once sat over large portion of modern day Mexico and they had been very fond of massed human sacrifice, particularly to their sun god but also to others. And the bloody practice had roots going even further back.

If it was merely a case of a mundane priest ritually killing another mundane person it would be a simple garden variety killing to no effect, but Harry had surmised from his own study of magical history(and not the crap that Binns droned on about) that priests had often been untrained wizards, even if they couldn't muster more than the simplest of magic. The tiny displays of power had usually been seen as divine favor in the old religions and those who could perform them often found themselves being turned into religious figures.

If the Aztec priests had in fact been wizards as he suspected was the case, the situation suddenly became quite a bit more complicated.

A wizard or witch sacrificing a mundane person could have some small effect, but nothing really worth bothering with.

A mundane person sacrificing a wizard or witch would be a violent killing that could easily produce a ghost under the right conditions.

A wizard or witch sacrificing another wizard or witch was where things got sticky. Rituals were finicky things that were heavily influenced by the thoughts of the people participating in it and could easily go awry, as Harry could attest from personal experience. The book he'd taken from the Black Library warned about the dangers of using human sacrifice, as the thoughts of the sacrifice itself also influenced the end result.

A fanatical but untrained magical priest sacrificing another untrained magical, especially if it was an unwilling one that was captured in some raid or other, in some half assed and poorly structured ritual while tens of thousands of similarly fanatical people bayed for blood in the immediate area, once again probably counting more untrained magicals among their number? That was just asking for trouble.

Repeat several thousand times or however many random magicals they managed to pick for the sacrifice and voilà, you've managed to cast a lingering miasma of death and pain over a whole geographical region. The non-magical population would be deaf and blind to it, but anyone or anything with magic could feel it.

The Spanish had probably done the world a favor by wiping the Aztecs out. If he was right about this, it could take literally centuries for the magical residue to disperse. That it hadn't already in the past five didn't make it look like it was going to happen anytime soon.

"Harry!" Penny said loudly, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Huh, what?" Harry asked, blinking.

"You spaced out for a minute there." Penny explained.

"Sorry." Harry apologized. He knew that he sometimes ignored people when he got absorbed in thought.

"What were you thinking about?" She asked curiously.

"I was thinking that I need to see the place for myself. Eventually." He wanted to feel it for himself and check if he was right. He suspected that the Americans knew exactly why nobody wanted to live there, but were simply unwilling to tell people the truth for whatever reason.

"Harry, wouldn't you rather go to a nice beach on vacation?" Penny suggested. "Sirius was bragging about this island in the Caribbean that he owns just the other day."

"We'll go there too." Harry grinned. A private island with a sandy beach and Dora in a bikini(or out of one)? He could put magical research on hold for a while with that kind of incentive. "But we've veered off topic. Let's move on to South America."

"Magical South America is a bit younger than it's northern neighbour and didn't really have a proper community until the early 19th century. Before that it was considered a place for adventurers rather than settlers." Penny began.

"Any particular reason for that?" Harry asked.

"Lack of people mostly." She replied with a shrug. "The Americas are huge and there's only so many wizards and witches in the world. With the attitude of the time being to kill off the locals rather than live together peacefully, it was a while before enough people settled down there permanently. It also helped that the magicals living on the Iberian Peninsula had only relatively recently formed their own government."

"And there's no goblins there either?"

"No, North America was quite determined to keep them from getting a foot in the door anywhere on the continent and kept a close eye on things to make sure they didn't."

"Smart of them." Harry commented wryly. "What about discrimination?"

"Not much of it if you believe the woman I talked to." Penny said with a frown. "I'm not sure I do, she came off a bit smarmy."

"I suppose that's the best we'll get without actually seeing for ourselves." Harry mused. "Alright, that takes care of one continent, let's move on to Europe."

"You already know that Britain is the worst on that score, Italy is number two on the list."

"Italy?" Harry asked with raised eyebrows. Why Italy of all places?

"They were allied with Germany during World War 2, which they claim to this day they were coerced into though not everyone believes it." Penny explained. "Either way, Grindelwald left them alone for the most part, so the majority of Italy's old magical nobility survived and with it the bigotry against first-generation magicals." Penny had adopted the terminology she'd learned from the American ambassador since speaking to him, finding herself reluctant to refer to herself as the offspring of uneducated cretins, even if most people had forgotten the origins of the word.

Harry had to snort to himself in amusement. The Dark Lord Grindelwald, inadvertent champion of equality, who did more to shatter the delusion of blood purity in a few years than Dumbledore had done in his entire life. The irony was incredible.

Penny ignored the snort and continued with her report. "Third on the list is, strangely enough, Scandinavia. I have to admit that surprised me since the non-magical sides of Norway, Sweden and Finland are considered to be among the most tolerant and well ordered countries in the world. The reason for this seems to be the Durmstrang Institute, which actually has in its charter a prohibition from attending to anyone that doesn't have a minimum of three generations of magical ancestry on both sides of the family."

"How is that even possible?" Harry asked in honest confusion. "Hogwarts sits in the most bigoted magical nation of the world but admits everyone, yet Durmstrang discriminates openly?"

"It has to do with the time it was founded." Penny explained. "The Hogwarts charter specifically states that _every_ magical child has a place in its walls and the Founders were too respected for that to be challenged, especially once it became tradition. Durmstrang was founded about two hundred years after Hogwarts and the pureblood mentality was well underway by then. It doesn't help that the current headmaster is a known Death Eater by the name of Igor Karkaroff."

"They put a terrorist in charge of a _school?_ " Harry could not believe what he was hearing. Nobody could possibly be that stupid.

Penny could only shrug in response. "He was apparently pardoned for snitching on his friends, but yeah, I have no idea who thought that was a good idea. There was probably bribery at work or maybe they figured it would be alright since there were only purebloods there anyway. Everyone who isn't 'pure' enough goes to smaller schools that are dotted across the area from which Durmstrang draws its students."

There were so many logic failures in the idea of installing a Death Eater as the headmaster of one of the three largest magical schools in Europe that Harry could do nothing but work his jaw in an attempt to say something. In the end he simply shook his head with a sense of profound disappointment, his respect for whoever was in charge of Durmstrang sinking like a brick. "Please tell me that Beauxbatons doesn't have something similarly stupid going for it?"

"It did for quite a while." Penny admitted. "France was as bad as Britain at one point, but that changed during the French Revolution. Not even the magical side of the country was left unscathed by that mess and more than one of France's old magical families met their end under the blade of a guillotine, though I have no idea how that could've happened."

Harry could think of a few ways. A resentful and angry class of oppressed magicals that was fed up with being treated like dirt by the pureblood social elite would have gleefully taken advantage of the chaos to get some payback. All they would've had to do was undo the aversion wards that kept non-magical eyes from noticing them, they usually weren't hard to dispel after all. After that it would be simplicity itself to direct the wrath of a bloodthirsty mob with a few strategically placed compulsion charms. Hell, it probably wouldn't even have taken a compulsion, just a pointed finger. Mobs were suggestible like that. The purebloods would have probably panicked and lacked the focus to apparate away even if they knew how, and very few of them would have had the power to hold off a mob, magic or no.

"And I assume that Grindelwald mopped up the rest?" He guessed.

"He pretty much flattened the French magical community, they had to rebuild it from the ground up once the war was over. On the plus side, it's now counted as the most tolerant and enlightened magical country in Europe. Beauxbatons even has a half-giant headmistress."

"And they say that violence doesn't solve anything." Harry quipped, still amused by the thought of Grindelwald as the champion of the oppressed despite the man's goals of ruling the world with an iron fist.

"Yes and it only took upwards of sixty million deaths to get things done." Penny replied sarcastically, feeling the need to point out that little detail.

"But it worked." He countered, at this point being deliberately contrary.

Penny rolled her eyes and huffed. "Anyway, the rest of Europe is somewhere between Britain and France. There tends to be some bias, but not nearly as pervasive as what we have and you couldn't get away with open discrimination. As a rule of thumb, western Europe leans towards the more tolerant and eastern towards less. That's probably the respective influences of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang at work."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. That meant that the situation in Europe ranged from potentially catastrophic(Britain), to probably fine(France) and everything in between. How marvelously confusing.

"What about the rest of the world?"

"I couldn't get anything on most of Asia and Africa. The ambassador from India was evasive when I asked and hustled me out of his office when I kept pressing. I did manage to learn that they had an established magical community of their own before British wizards started expanding their influence there, but I couldn't get any details about what happened to it."

"Another place to visit then." Harry mused. "I wanted to buy a flying carpet anyway."

"You do know that possession of one is illegal in most of Europe?" Penny asked pointedly.

"Only because the broom manufacturers are afraid for their profit margins. That just makes me want a flying carpet even more." He had a brief fantasy of flying into the sunset on a Persian rug with Dora in a belly dancer's outfit. Yes, getting a flying carpet was definitely a must.

"Egypt was under British control for a long while too and has become an independent magical nation only in the past century. I'm not sure about any discrimination but there is a heavy goblin presence there due to the treaty that gives them unlimited access to ancient magical burial sites."

"I'd wager that the Egyptian wizards are more than a bit miffed that they have to watch helplessly as their heritage is plundered by the greedy little fuckers." Harry surmised. "Even more so since they employ human curse-breakers." He did recall Ginny mentioning that her oldest brother worked for Gringotts as a curse-breaker in Egypt. Why a human would willingly work for goblins escaped him, but there it was.

"Probably." Penny agreed. "That just leaves us with Australia."

"Yes, what's going on in the down under?"

"Hard to say, they tend to keep to themselves. It was used as a dumping ground for squibs and other undesirables for hundreds of years. It's unique in the fact that their community was actually founded by a group of squibs and their magical offspring. They had a rough time of it too, with no books,no wands and no easy way of getting them."

"In that case, I think we can assume with some measure of certainty that they don't care much about blood purity." Harry concluded. "No telling what other quirks they might have though."

"Well, that's everything I had." Penny declared with a sigh, glad that it was over. Hunting down all that information had been tiring and frequently involved dealing with unpleasant people.

"It was exactly what I needed, thank you." Harry complimented, mentally noting to himself to start giving her a regular salary. She'd done a great job with this and had certainly earned it.

"Are you finally going to tell me why you wanted all this information?" Penny asked.

"Let's just say that I'm a bit nervous about Britain's future and want to have an emergency exit."

XXXXX

The conversation with Penny consumed Harry's thoughts well into the next day and distracted him thoroughly. No matter how he looked at it, there was serious trouble brewing in the future. If he failed to find and destroy all of Voldemort's soul anchors before the defeated Dark Lord managed to claw his way back to life, things were poised to quickly get out of hand. The Dark Lord had had a habit of occasionally attacking non-magical targets during his bid for power and that wasn't likely to change if he came back. Harry doubted that the mundane government would fail to respond if history began repeating itself. That wasn't likely to end well, the two worlds were separated with good reason.

But Harry didn't have the faintest idea of where to begin searching for the other Horcruxes. His idea of using the locket to track the others had amounted to nothing so far. That could mean any number of things, his potential lack of skill to manage it being the least troubling.

It could be the last one, in which case he would be well advised to destroy it while Voldemort was still disembodied. They could be out of range, provided that range was even a factor. They could be protected against scrying. It could be impossible to track them down this way, the book did warn that one's soul was in a constant state of change...perhaps Voldemort's soul shards were too different from each other for one to be used to track another. It could be something he hadn't even thought about.

The other matter on his mind was his continued Hogwarts attendance. He had been thinking of dropping out all summer but had in the end decided to hold off on that. Unfortunately, he had underestimated just how much it would grate on him to be confined to the castle even if he was mostly doing his own thing and slipping out frequently. Still, there were benefits, the Tri-Wizard Tournament being one of them. If he could get past the age restriction, then Harry was fairly sure that he could also win it. There might be some seventh year students that knew more spells than him, but he was sure that he was the most powerful wizard in Hogwarts, barring some of the staff. The competition from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang wasn't likely to be better than him. As the Tri-Wizard champion, he'd be legally be an adult and have all the credibility he'd ever need and could easily wave off the OWL and NEWT exams.

A nudge at his hand brought him out of his thoughts and he reached into the pouch at his side, bringing out a handful of meat chunks and offering them to the thestral.

"You look distracted." Luna commented, smiling as another of the carnivorous flying horses ate the meat from her hand.

Harry wondered about his friend sometimes. Weren't girls supposed to like ponies and unicorns? What did it say about Luna that she liked these cadaverous creatures? Harry knew why he was interested in them; they had a faint sense of Dark about them, so some wizard must have done something to cause this, but how and why were questions that might never be answered. What Luna saw in them was anyone's guess.

To most people, they probably looked like a pair of crazies petting and feeding the air.

"I don't want to come back to Hogwarts after this year." He admitted point blank. Talking to Luna was best done in concise, blunt statements. "There's not much of interest left for me here."

"I'll be sad without you." Luna replied with the same directness, but without censure or accusation.

"I could withdraw you and arrange for you to take your OWLs and NEWTS at the Ministry in a couple of years." Harry offered. "We could travel the world together and I could teach you myself or hire tutors."

The thought of ignoring Voldemort and going gallivanting around the world was discomforting, but he was also loath to put his life on hold because of that lunatic. Besides, if the man was even slightly intelligent(and everyone assured him that he was), he'd hidden at least one or two of his soul containers in some forsaken corner of the world that nobody would even think to look in. Furthermore, if Dumbledore with all the resources available to him couldn't track down the other Horcruxes, then he wasn't likely to succeed outside of his attempts to use the locket either.

"That would be nice."

"You wouldn't miss Hogwarts?"

"I would miss Ginny and the thestrals, but I would miss you more."

"That settles it then, this will be our last year in Hogwarts."

"Will Nymphadora be coming with us?"

"I hope so."

"Will you have lots of sex?"

"Yes."

"Can I watch?"

"No."

"Please?"

"I don't think Dora would be comfortable with that." Neither would he for that matter, but that wasn't important right now.

"Okay." Luna conceded. She would need to find a way to convince Nymphadora to let her watch.

They spent the next few minutes in silence, feeding the last of their meat chunks to the thestrals.

"Will you come to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?" Luna asked.

"Sure." Harry agreed. He hadn't gone back to the quaint little village since that first time. The place really wasn't that interesting aside from the MILF bartender, but he'd go if Luna wanted to go.

XXXXX

"It's a good thing that Hogsmeade sells proper food for miniature giant space hamsters like Boo." Luna commeted as they exited the shop.

"Yes, lucky that." Harry replied, not even trying to hide his amusement. The store clerk's baffled look had been priceless.

"What should we do next?" Luna asked. They had already visited the bookstore, apothecary and Honeydukes sweet shop.

"We could go..." Harry trailed off in the middle of his suggestion that they get something to eat, having spied a particular pair of redheads coming out of Zonko's joke shop. "Actually, let's go talk to the Weasley twins. There's something I need to ask them."

Luna nodded her assent and they approached the terrible twosome.

"Well if it isn't Harold the Tall..." Began George as soon as they were in range.

"...and his girlfriend, Luna the Lovegood..." Continued Fred.

"Out for a romantic stroll around Hogsmeade." They finished together.

That little performance brought up so many questions that Harry wasn't even sure where to begin, so he decided that he might as well tackle them one at a time.

"Harold the Tall? Where did you get that one?"

"Well, calling you not-so-ickle-Harrykins was a bit of a mouthful..."

"...and 'Harry the Tall' sounded a bit weak..."

"...it's the 'y', names ending with a 'y' always sound weak if you add a title..."

"...so we settled on 'Harold'."

"I see." Harry said ambivalently, but was inwardly a bit pleased by the mention of his magically boosted height. He had no intention of voicing this opinion out loud, but he couldn't help feeling that most wizards and witches didn't really deserve their gifts since they barely bothered to learn anything about them. He enjoyed the fact that he could look down on most of them literally as well as figuratively, petty though he knew it to be. "You could have just ditched the title and used my actual name."

"But where's the fun in that?"

"Right. Moving on, what's this about Luna being my girlfriend?"

Now the twins looked suddenly uncertain.

"Errr...Luna _is_ your girlfriend, isn't she?" George ventured cautiously.

"Where did you get that idea?" Harry asked back, quite bewildered.

"It's all over the school, Harry." Fred answered, dropping all pretense of joking.

"Oh, that would explain the dirty looks some of the older girls were giving me." Luna exclaimed. "I'd been wondering what I did to offend them, thank you for clearing that up."

"And it would also explain the string of propositions I received last month." Harry sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. There had been a sudden burst of female interest that had dropped off just as suddenly when he refused them all. He'd been baffled by it at the time, but now it made some sort of sense. They'd been fishing to see if he would dump Luna in favor of them.

"So that rumor about you two sleeping together..." George trailed off, not really sure what to say since the Marauder's Map had quite clearly shown that Harry and Luna were definitely spending their nights together.

"Oh no, that's true." Luna replied before Harry could say anything.

"But you aren't dating?" Fred questioned further, obviously having trouble wrapping his mind around the concept.

"Luna means literally sleeping, as in being unconscious." Harry interjected before things could go off course any further.

"Yes, Nymphadora would probably object to that. She doesn't even let me watch them have sex, so I expect that she would approve of me doing it with Harry even less." Luna stated with the impersonal detachment of someone reciting a grocery list. "I could be wrong though. Harry, do you think Nymphadora would object if you put your penis in my vagina?"

"I dare say that she would." Harry said with another sigh. And he'd so been hoping to avoid a 'penis-in-vagina' sentence this time.

"We concur. Women tend to be sensitive about that sort of thing." The twins added, taking their cues from Harry and acting as if nothing strange had just been said.

" _Anyway._ " Harry said loudly, deciding to change the subject forcibly. "I wanted to know how the Malfoy situation is progressing. I haven't seen him get pranked in a while and was wondering if you'd stopped or if it was just happening out of my sight."

"We stopped." George admitted. "We're starting to feel sorry for the daft bugger."

"We really went too far that time with the explosive diarrhea." Fred added, looking embarrassed.

"That one was my favorite." Harry admitted. Seeing the horror on Malfoy's face as his bowels suddenly failed him had been beautiful.

"You know that he blames you for it, right?" George asked.

"Even better."

"Don't you think he's suffered enough? People probably won't be able to look at him without laughing for the rest of the year at least."

No, Harry actually didn't think it had been enough. But then Harry was like Snape in the ability to hold grudges for a very long time, though not nearly to the same level of intensity.

"I guess I'll have to find other ways of making him miserable if you're not willing to keep at it." He said with a frown. _I don't really want to waste time punishing Malfoy for being a turd, but I don't want him getting away with it either._

"We may not be willing to keep tormenting him, but we wouldn't be averse to providing you with the materials to do it yourself." George suggested. After all, it wasn't good business practice to ask what the customer was going to do with the goods he was sold.

"Believe it or not, I'm capable of going to Zonko's myself." Harry said sarcastically.

"Ah, but who said anything about Zonko's?" Fred said mysteriously. "For you see, Mr. Potter, if you accept our offer, you would have the honor of being the very first customer of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"You two starting up a competing joke business or something?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Indeed we are." The twins confirmed. "Zonko's hasn't done anything new in years and we feel it's time for a wheeze of fresh air."

"Nice pun, Sirius would have loved it." Harry deadpanned.

Fread and George gave a theatrical bow of acknowledgement. "So, would you like us to supply you with prank products?"

Harry was smelling an opportunity here. It was no secret that the Weasleys were poor, so there was no way that the twins would have the liquid capital required to get a business started properly. If they hadn't been purebloods, they couldn't have even muscled in on Zonko's monopoly without running into some kind of restrictive legislation.

"I might be interested, but first I'd like to know if you two are in need of some financial aid to get this joke shop of yours started." You could never have too much gold, even if the goblins were essentially holding it hostage. He hadn't quite given up on finding a way to get his money away from the greedy little monsters.

The twins exchanged surprised looks, having not expected this in the least.

"You would just give us the money to start up our shop?" George asked cautiously, distrustful of the sudden turn of good fortune.

"Of course not, what kind of idiot just gives money away for nothing?" Harry scoffed. "No, what I'm proposing is that I provide you with the start up capital and hold majority ownership until you pay back my investment, upon which time I retain a third as a silent partner. You get your joke shop and I get a steady source of profit, everybody wins."

"And what if our idea fails?" The twins were confident in their idea, but they had to be realistic. Failure was a definite possibility.

"Then I lose my investment and know better than to loan money to you in the future." Harry had to be realistic as well. Zonko's _was_ stagnating, Sirius had complained about there being nothing new since his own Hogwarts days. That didn't mean that the twins would succeed though, however clever their pranks were. There was also the fact that the Weasleys had won seven hundred galleons in some kind of Ministry raffle last year and had rather foolishly blown it all at once, demonstrating that their poverty might be the result of fiscal irresponsibility as much as anything else.

Fred and George exchanged looks again, communicating a great deal without needing to say anything. It wasn't an _unfair_ offer, certainly better than most would have given them, but they weren't going to just jump in and agree when it was their dreams on the line.

"We'll need to think about this before we decide on anything."

"Of course, I would have been disappointed if you did agree right away." Harry said with a nod. "Come talk to me if there's anything else you'd like to know."

XXXXX

Fred and George were deep in thought as the two Ravenclaws left, pondering the conversation they had just had.

"Say, Gred?"

"What is it, Forge?"

"Didn't Charlie use to date a girl by the name of Nymphadora in his seventh year?"

"Indeed he did, indeed he did. Warned us to never call her that too if I recall correctly."

"What do you think the chances are that this is a different Nymphadora?"

"I would wager that they are remote at best."

"We are agreed then that Harry Potter is in a relationship with Nymphadora Tonks?"

"Most likely."

"What are we to do with this information?"

"Smile secretively when Harry's personal life is discussed within range of our hearing?"

"That seems reasonable."

XXXXX

Sirius Black was brooding.

That was unnatural. Sirius Black did not brood. At least, he hadn't brooded before his stint in Azkaban. It was hard to avoid the occasional bout of brooding after spending twelve years in there and having your friends killed.

It didn't happen so much when Harry was around, but his precocious godson was currently in Hogwarts, no doubt driving the teachers up the wall with his flippant disregard for the rules. That was something to be proud of even if he wasn't much of a prankster, but it didn't change the fact that Sirius missed him and had descended into brooding for lack of anything better to do.

He didn't even have Remus around anymore to talk to, the werewolf having gone back to the continent. The silly bugger refused to accept any kind of charity and couldn't find any work in Britain, so he really had no choice in the matter. His old friend had become a somber and quietly depressed individual that had gotten old before his time, but trying to get him to lighten up a bit had at least been a distraction.

His brooding was eventually interrupted by Penny, who had essentially gotten fed up with his moping and shooed him out of the manor with instructions to find something to distract himself with. The former Hogwarts Head Girl had settled into her role as Harry's personal assistant and become rather bossy at times.

That was how Sirius found himself wandering Diagon Alley, looking for something or preferably _someone_ to do. Women were always a great distraction and if he found the right sort he could invite her over to the manor and annoy Penny by having loud sex next to her room. That would teach her to shoo him out of the house like a misbehaving dog.

To his disappointment, he spied no likely candidates. The magical population being as small as it was, finding an unattached woman could be difficult at times. Hell, even finding a woman you didn't know already could be difficult at times.

He was just contemplating the idea of going into the mugg- excuse him, _non-magical_ world(Penny had also taken it upon herself lately to get on his case about using insulting terminology) and finding a willing bedpartner when a vision of loveliness passed before his eyes.

She was a tall, dark skinned witch with shoulder length black hair, full breasts and the tightest looking arse that Sirius could ever recall seeing, gloriously displayed in a set of figure hugging blue-black robes that he was quite sure had to be some foreign fashion that he heartily approved off.

He saw her go into Madam Malkin's and wasted no time thinking whether he should go talk to her or not. Sirius Black did not concern himself with what he should or should not do, that was for those burdened with a sense of responsibility and a lack of self-confidence.

The store wasn't really that big and he was able to locate her swiftly. She was looking at the displayed robes contemplatively and Sirius knew he had to put an end to this. Nothing on sale her would look even half as good as what she was wearing at the moment.

"I don't think yellow is your color." He said as he siddled up to her.

The woman turned to face him with one perfect eyebrow raised in silent question and Sirius became even more determined to seduce this beautiful witch. Her face was exquisite, with full lips, an elegant jawline and slightly slanted dark eyes that made her look all the more exotic.

"You know something about fashion then?" She asked with a slight accent that Sirius couldn't place, but he knew that he liked it.

"I know that you are far too beautiful for a robe like that." Sirius replied smoothly.

"I was merely browsing to pass the time." The exotic witch said idly. "If I wanted anything from this quaint little store I would have arranged to be fitted."

"I would be more than happy to help you pass the time." Sirius offered, all but leaping at the opportunity.

"Would you now?" The witch asked with the most alluring smile he had ever seen.

"It would be my greatest pleasure."

"Hmmm, perhaps, but first I would need your name."

"Of course, how rude of me." Sirius said self-deprecatingly. "Sirius Black at your service."

"Adrastia Zabini." She said, offering her hand for him to kiss.

Adrastia smiled again as the man took her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles, her magic wrapping around him like a cloying scent, gentle caress and erotic promise all in one. The man's body language and smile became more like that of a schoolboy with a crush than a suave grown man looking for a quick fuck.

She had come to Britain to watch the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but this one could serve as a worthwhile distraction in between events. It would certainly be better than spending time with her useless son. Besides, she could always use a little more gold and the Blacks were supposed to have plenty of it. Adding to the tragedy of Sirius Black also appealed to her sense of drama. He who had wrongly suffered in prison for twelve years, then found love only to die in a tragic accident in the end. It would be a perfect climax.

XXXXX

Harry leaned to the side to avoid the stunner that Luna sent at him and sent back a compact bolt of force. He'd been getting so much practice with the basics recently that it was no longer a poorly structured push but a proper spell in its own right. Simple but fast, effective and requiring no wand.

Luna broke off her attack to shield against it, being unable to dodge. That was one of the most critical advantages of wandless casting, it never missed. A wand was like a gun in that it required aim, but wandless magic was driven purely by the caster's will and always went exactly where he or she wanted it to go.

Now that he had her on the defensive, Harry kept up a constant barrage of force bolts, forcing Luna to keep up a shield. She had no trouble blocking his admittedly weak assault, but it kept her from attacking him in turn. He could have overpowered her easily if he used his wand, but they weren't doing this to stroke his ego.

He wasn't the only one who had been improving though and Luna managed to stabilize the shield so that it would persist on its own for a while without needing to be constantly maintained. It was a moderately advanced technique that was pretty much essential in the dueling circuits, otherwise one caster could be kept permanently on the defensive. It wouldn't hold up to more than a single strong spell or several weak ones, but it was enough to allow retaliation and Luna used the opportunity to the fullest.

Harry was once more on the run, needing his full focus to avoid getting hit by the quick stream of spells flying at him. Not the simple to avoid stinging hexes or stunners though, but the wide slashes of cutting spells.

Well, they weren't _real_ cutting spells. That would be stupid and dangerous. It was actually just splashes of color cast in the same arc as a powerful cutting spell, but for the purposes of the training session, Harry had to treat them as legitimate cutting spells.

He couldn't easily dodge them, so he was forced to put up a shield. Not having any real power behind them, that was easy enough, but he was the one stuck on the defensive now.

Deciding on a gamble, Harry jumped over the next low cast one and hurled a strong bolt of force at Luna mid jump.

She was surprised and got sent flying into the magically cushioned wall.

Harry looked down at his legs and grimaced. There was a line of red going across his shins, a few inches above his ankles. He'd misjudged the timing.

"You've lost your legs, Harry." Luna informed him once she'd gotten up.

"It wouldn't have cut my legs off." Harry argued, sounding a bit petulant even to his own ears. No, a real cutting hex cast by Luna probably wouldn't have done more than give him a cut, maybe a small nick to the bone at the worst, painful but not crippling. An above average adult wizard looking to kill him however, would have likely cut deep enough to cripple him at least temporarily. Someone like Voldemort would have taken his legs clean off.

"Are we going to take a bath now? I'm tired." She asked.

Harry looked at her sweaty face and nodded. He'd built up endurance quickly and was now usually outlasting her despite being the one who did most of the moving around.

Several minutes later, he was sitting in the large bath provided by the Room of Requirement, doing his best to ignore his erection as Luna sat behind him and washed his hair, humming all the while. It would be his turn to wash her hair once she was done.

This had become a frequent occurrence and Harry remained conflicted about it. He was pretty sure that there was nothing sexual about it on Luna's part, but it was highly unorthodox. Then again, Luna was a very unorthodox girl.

Dora would almost definitely not approve, but he couldn't bring himself to put an end to it. The sense of contetment and happiness he sensed in Luna during these bathing sessions prevented it. She had few enough reasons to be happy as it was.

She hadn't tried to wash his crotch or ask that he wash hers, so things were at least staying as platonic as possible for two people bathing together.

He decided to stop thinking about it and looked down at his midsection. He was starting to show signs of actual abdominal muscle. His legs and arse were already noticeably more muscular, enough that Dora had commented the last time he'd gone to pay her a visit. No doubt it was a result of all the jumping around he'd been doing since the school year had started, but he was pretty sure that a month and a half was a bit fast for muscle definition to be showing when he wasn't even seriously training.

Had to be the runes speeding things up again, which would make sense once he'd started thinking about it. His first set was meant to speed growth and enhance the general strength and durability of his body, but it could only work with what it had.

Harry decided that he would start doing a few dozen push ups every morning. He didn't have the patience for long workouts, but he could do that much. The runes should make the small effort more effective than it had any right to be and you never knew when a bit of physical strength could come in handy, especially when he was going to be entering himself into the tournament tomorrow. Plus, he didn't want to be fit below the navel and scrawny above it. That would be just weird.

XXXXX

Sitting at the Ravenclaw table, Harry ate and contemplated the new arrivals.

Over at the Slytherin table sat the Durmstrang delegation, a grim looking group of wizards and witches whose physical apperances were frankly more imposing than their magic. Oh, they felt stronger than the average Hogwarts student of equal age to be sure, but nothing that he would say lived up to the reputation of a school that supposedly taught the Dark Arts.

The strongest among them was Viktor Krum, who he fully expected to be their champion in this tournament. Amusingly enough, the sour Bulgarian already had people fangirling over his quidditch prowess, Ron Weasley the most obnoxiously.

The submersible ship they had arrived in was an interesting bit of magic, something that allowed teleportation between large bodies of water no doubt. He would have taken the time to deconstruct it if given a chance, but they would probably object to that.

The Durmstrang headmaster, Karkaroff, had greeted Dumbledore as if they were old friends and indeed it had looked like it, but Harry wasn't fooled. Their magics had been tense and wary.

The half-giant headmistress of Beauxbatons had been far more genuine in her greeting, though her mangled pronunciation of Dumbledore's name was quite amusing.

The giant winged horses that had carried them to Hogwarts was another thing that Harry suspected was the result of some wizard deciding that he absolutely had to have giant flying horses. The fact that he'd overheard Madam Maxime saying that they only drank single malt whiskey was a testament to that. Only a wizard would be stupid enough to breed horses that drank expensive alcohol instead of water.

The actual students of Beauxbatons sat at the Ravenclaw table and were a rather snobby bunch that had been turning their noses up at everything and sniffing disdainfully since they'd arrived, though Harry supposed they had good reason to feel superior if the state of British magical society was known to them. Britain was probably the only country that still thought it was doing well.

Most of the Beauxbatons students weren't anything special, but one stood out like a beacon.

The only veela in the group.

This was the first time that he'd ever been this close to one. The Light of her magic glowed like a miniature sun and he knew instinctively that she would be a woman of great passions and strong emotions. It wasn't the same as when he drew on the Sun, being somehow intrinsic to her nature but also less wild. The contradiction was intriguing and he briefly lamented his relationship status. He would have very much liked to explore her thoroughly. That her Light made his runes prickle constantly also played a factor, but he would just have to deal with it since he had no intention of two-timing his girlfriend. Dora was going to have to get used to even more frequent booty calls though.

He couldn't accurately judge how powerful she was in comparison to the others because her magic was so different from a normal witch, but he found himself hoping that she was chosen as the Beauxbatons champion. It was probably masochistic of him to wish for that, but he couldn't help it. He wasn't sure if it was his hormones or something to do with his magic, but a desire to compete against her was undeniably there.

Of course, he'd have to get himself chosen as a champion first, but he was confident he could do it, especially after hearing Dumbledore explain how he intended to guard against illegal entry. An Age Line? Pfft. Did the old man really think that would stop anyone?

XXXXX

Some time later, Harry was standing before the Goblet of Fire and watching as people entered their names.

The Hufflepuffs seemed to have unanimously decided on Cedric Diggory as their representative and he had to admit that the seventh year wasn't bad. He'd audited a few Transfiguration classes with him in it and knew that the boy was above average.

The Slytherins seemed to have several candidates, the loudest of them being their quidditch captain, Marcus Flint. Harry couldn't resist a snort as he heard the idiot boasting. Flint was repeating seventh year for a reason and it wasn't because he enjoyed his time at Hogwarts so much.

Ravenclaw had only a bare few hopefuls and none of them were anything special, discounting himself.

The Gryffindors had no shortage of applicants, but most of them were just background noise. Sixth Year Angelina Johnson felt like the most promising, but he sensed that she was still weaker than Diggory.

"Would you look at that intense face, Gred!"

"I see it, Forge. It looks like Harry is going to glare the Age Line into submission."

And of course, there were the Weasley twins, who might actually be stronger than Diggory, but were still half a year from being old enough to enter.

"I'm just waiting for the right moment to enter my name." Harry replied complacently.

"Well, while you're doing that, we'll just go ahead and enter if you don't mind."

"You may proceed." He said magnanimously, waving them forward.

"Thank you, Your Grace." The twins chorused and gave a dramatic bow.

"Aging potion?" Harry guessed, seeing them unstopper two vials .

"Indeed, just enough to make us seventeen."

"It won't work." Harry informed them, knowing that an Age Line didn't work based on the physical age of the body.

"We'll see about that, Harrykins."

They did indeed see, as they were thrown away from the Goblet, sporting long white beards and being the targets of much laughter.

"I told you so." Harry said with well earned smugness.

"Very well then, we know when we're beaten."They declared with dignity." Reveal to us the secret of getting past the Age Line, oh great Potter.

"The secret..." Harry paused dramatically, knowing that there were quite a few people listening to his words. "is that you don't need to get past the Age Line."

"Errr, so you're not planning to enter then?" That had come from one of the random Ravenclaws in the crowd. Somehow, despite not announcing it, the entire school had become convinced that he was intending to enter. It was probably one of the few times in history that the Hogwarts rumor mill actually got something 100% correct.

"I am, I'm just not going to bother with the Age line." Harry countered, taking a fist full of parchment scraps with his name on them from his pocket. "Observe."

With that, he threw them all towards the Goblet of Fire. Most of them missed, but several landed inside the ancient artefact and caused it to flare with blue fire as his entry was accepted. He felt a corresponding 'ping' in his own magic from the Goblet as it happened. That was good, because he hadn't actually been 100% sure that throwing parchment into the Goblet from a distance would work. The artefact couldn't read after all, but names were powerful seals. By signing his name on a piece of parchment, he had imbued it with a piece of his identity. The other option had been that the Goblet reacted to the magic of the person submitting the parchment, which would have required him to dismantle the Age Line. Fortunately it had been the former, otherwise he would have looked quite foolish.

"You see, an Age Line is an exclusion style area denial spell that reacts in contact with a witch or wizards' mind. If you know yourself to be older than the specified age, then it will let you pass, otherwise it will expel you. A flying piece of parchment has no mind so the Age line doesn't react." He explained to the stunned looking crowd.

"Such simplicity..." George said.

"Such elegance..." Fred added.

"We are in awe." The twins finished together. "Now if you will excuse us, we're off to do this ourselves before Dumbledore decides to ward against it."

They weren't the only ones that scrambled for the nearest piece of parchment to repeat Harry's method.

Dumbledore had in fact been on his way to check on the Goblet and had seen his security circumvented, but it was too late to do anything about it. He knew that Harry would be chosen as the Hogwarts champion now, he was far too strong for it to be otherwise. There was no more point in preventing entry.

He wasn't sure if this was a good or bad thing. If Harry won the tournament, his reputation would soar even higher. That would be excellent if he followed the proper path, but disastrous if he decided not to. The lad's independent streak was really quite problematic with the way it was making everything murky. Dumbledore knew that he had made some mistakes in regards to Harry in the past, but he didn't understand why the boy was so staunchly refusing his advice when he was just trying to help him fulfill his destiny.

Well, no use crying over spilled milk. He would have to adjust his plans to account for Harry's entry into the tournament.

XXXXX

 **For those of you who have played Dawn of War 2, I was actually not referencing Inquisitor Adrastia, I just happened to be looking at a list of female Latin names and saw it. I simply liked it too much to pass it up after that xD.**

 **If all goes well, I should have the next chapter out relatively quickly.**


	17. Chapter 17

**I have a feeling I wanted to write something up here but it escapes me at this moment. Ah well, all the thanks go to Joe Lawyer.**

XXXXX

The feeling of tense anticipation was palpable in the Great Hall, everyone seemed to be wishing that the food would just disappear already so that they go move on to the champion selection.

Harry kept eating. He'd noticed that his appetite was slowing down recently, but he still ate quite a lot. He was significantly more relaxed than most of the people in the Great Hall. Knowing ahead of time who the champions would be had taken most of the excitement out of it for him. The only one that remained unknown to him was Beauxbatons, and even then he had the veela pegged as the likely candidate based on how ordinary all the other students felt. He'd never say it out loud because he knew it was rude and insulting, but they felt like NPCs, background population with nothing really noteworthy about them.

The staff table was more crowded than normal, what with two foreign school heads and two Ministry officials added to it. That one of those officials was that bumbling oaf Bagman was bad enough, much worse was the presence of a familiar pink toad that was apparently still acting as temporary head of the DIMC. He still had no idea why he hated that woman so much. He'd met evil people before, Lucius Malfoy being a good example, but they hadn't evoked this kind of instant hatred from him.

The food finally vanished and the air became even more charged. Dumbledore blew out all the candles so that the only real light came from the blue flames of the Goblet of Fire, then he launched into a short speech that managed to get everyone even more excited even though it was just a glorified set of instructions. Harry wondered if a penchant for the dramatic was a failing of all powerful wizards. Sirius had told him that Voldemort was even worse about it and Grindelwald had been fond of grand gestures and symbolism as well from what he'd read.

Harry winced to himself as he recalled how dramatically he had entered himself into this tournament the other day. He could have just as easily done that at night when there was nobody watching, but he had wanted to prove that he could outsmart Dumbledore.

The old wizard finished with his speech just as the Goblet started burning red and ejected a piece of parchment.

"The Durmstrang champion will be..." He paused, once more being dramatic. "...Viktor Krum!"

The Hall exploded into cheers.

"No surprises there!" Roared Ron Weasley from the Gryffindor table. Harry could only shake his head at the boy's fangirling. The way he went on about the Bulgarian was embarrasing just to watch, even from a distance.

A closer Weasley hooted energetically, apparently also thrilled. Harry looked at Ginny strangely, surprised by how excited she was at Krum being chosen. Eh, maybe it was a quidditch thing? She had tried to start a few conversations about the silly sport back when they had still been friends, but had gotten only polite disinterest. Harry doubted he would ever understand what all the fuss was about.

"Bravo, Viktor!" Karkaroff boomed so loudly that he was probably using spells to enhance his voice. "I knew you had it in you!"

 _I'll bet you did._ Karkaroff's fawning over his student had been even more nauseating than Weasley's. The loudmouth Gryffindor at least had the excuse of being a teenager.

Much to Harry's amusement, the newly chosen champion seemed to dislike all the attention. Not the typical celebrity attention whore then.

The Goblet flared again and Dumbledore snatched another piece of parchment from the air.

"The Beauxbatons champion will be..." There was that dramatic pause again. "...Fleur Delacour!"

Much to Harry's glee this turned out to be the veela. Excellent. Surely this tournament would give him enough opportunities to be around her that he could take a closer look at her magic. He wouldn't get to test out the reputed instinctual sex magics of the veela thanks to his relationship status, but you can't have everything.

The applause for her was almost as loud as it had been for Krum, though Harry had to give an incredulous look towards two other Beauxbatons girls that had burst into tears at the announcement. _Really? I mean, REALLY?_

Contrary to Krum, Delacour seemed to soak up the attention like a sponge as she walked off. Huh, go figure, a pretty girl that liked to be the center of attention. That was so cliché that it was almost an anti-cliché. Maybe it was a veela thing? Their succubi ancestors would have had a hard time being sexual predators if they didn't enjoy attention after all.

The Goblet flared again.

"And the Hogwarts champion will be..." Harry resisted the urge to stand before Dumbledore finished his announcement. "...Harry Potter!"

There was a moment of stunned silence before the Hall exploded into cheers again, though there were also a fair few groans from each of the four tables.

"Congratulations, Harry." Luna said serenely, barely heard over the noise even sitting next to him as she was.

"Thanks, Luna." Harry said, smiling at his friend. Her quiet words meant more to him than all the noise from the others.

He walked past the staff table and into the antechamber where the other champions had gone, making note of the teacher's faces as he went by.

Snape looked livid, McGonnagal pinched, Dumbledore and Moody inscrutable, Vector and Babbling surprised but proud, Flitwick excited, Maxime bewildered but clapping politely, Karkaroff unsettled, Bagman about to wet his pants and Umbridge as if someone had injected lemon juice straight into her face.

Heh, quite the spectrum of emotion for a single event.

Behind him, the Goblet of Fire guttered out, its purpose fulfilled.

XXXXX

Draco had, just like most of the school, briefly entertained the notion of entering the Tri-Wizard Tournament himself. The tournament was an ancient tradition with a lot of prestige attached to it, especially now that it was being held again for the first time in centuries. He had decided not to in the end, both because of the danger and because his pride wouldn't let him tolerate the idea that someone was more worthy than him if he didn't get chosen.

Viktor Krum being champion wasn't a surprise. He was a proper pureblood and famous in his own right. If anyone was worthy of representing Durmstrang it was him.

That Beauxbatons would be represented by a non-human creature just showed how far the French had fallen.

But it was the Hogwarts champion that really had Draco fuming.

Dumbledore had snatched the parchment after the Goblet of Fire had spat it out, unraveled it and without a hint of surprise proclaimed Harry Potter as the Hogwarts champion.

There had been curses and groans from some people who were hoping to be chosen, but most of the school cheered.

Draco barely refrained from gnashing his teeth in rage.

It was always Potter this and Potter that. What was so special about that filthy halfblood anyway? Even Dumbledore let him walk all over Hogwarts as if the rules didn't apply to Saint Potter. He could get away with physically assaulting the heir to the Malfoy family like some kind of disgusting muggle, ignore detentions, only go to classes when he felt like it, but nobody dared think of expelling him like he deserved.

Now he'd illegally entered himself into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, violating the Ministry's age restriction and he got _applause_!

Draco's dislike for Harry Potter had curdled into genuine hatred over the past two months of humiliating pranks. He knew that Potter was behind it even if he never saw him doing anything, the smirks that the freakishly tall bastard sent him were proof enough of that. His fellow Slytherins thought him a joke now rather than someone to be respected. Even his father had told him that he was a disappointment for being unable to handle himself when he'd written home to inform him of Potter's insults to House Malfoy.

He burned with the desire to get back at the halfblood, but he couldn't see any way to do it. Much as he hated to admit it, Potter was too strong for a direct confrontation. There were safeguards preventing him from potioning his food in the Great Hall and sending him anonymous mail would be too suspicious. He couldn't even target that crazy friend of his because she was always either in classes or with Potter.

But he wasn't giving up. Nobody treated a Malfoy like this and got away with it. Draco swore to himself that he would see Potter brought low one day.

XXXXX

Fleur looked up as the door to the antechamber opened, admitting the last of the three Tri-Wizard champions.

He was a tall and lean young man with long black hair and the most incredible green eyes. She remembered him from the welcoming feast the other day, sitting next to a young blonde girl. He had looked at her with sharp-eyed curiousity rather than the glassy stares she received so often, clearly unaffected by her passive Allure.

She had thought him a possible candidate as the Hogwarts champion even then, but had been confused as to why he would sit with the younger years. Learning that this was the fourteen year old Harry Potter had been quite a shock.

The story of the Boy-Who-Lived was known in France, though the prevailing opinion in her homeland was that the boy's mother had done something to protect him rather than it being some innate power of his. The English were obviously too bigoted to admit that someone with no magical ancestry could best their Dark Lord and had heaped all the credit on an infant regardless of how little sense that made.

Truth be told, Fleur hated Britain. She hated the food, she hated the weather and most of all she hated the people who classified her under the same category as they would a dragon or a unicorn. A beast.

She had very nearly decided not to participate in this tournament simply because of the country where it would take place, but her desire to enter and not let Madam Maxime down eventually won over. She was the best that Beauxbatons had to offer and showing these English pigs that a veela was better than them would be worth the irritation.

But she couldn't do that by being churlish, so she stepped up to the Hogwarts champion and introduced herself.

" _Bonjour_ , Fleur Delacour." She said with a subtle challenge in her tone, holding her hand downwards and indicating that he was to kiss it.

To her surprise, he did so without the slightest sign of disgust at showing respect to a veela, even seeming amused by her attitude. "Harry Potter."

That alone did a great deal to take the wind out of her sails and she reconsidered her opinions as the two male champions introduced each other. Perhaps it had been unfair of her to paint him with the same brush as the rest of Britain before even meeting him? At the very least, she now had a cautiously positive opinion of both her fellow champions.

Both were international celebrities, but did not act with the arrogance one might expect of such people. Krum came off as a bit surly but had been polite enough and Potter had been perfectly respecful so far.

What worried her was that she was no longer quite as assured of victory as she had been when she had decided to enter.

Veela had an innate sense for powerful magic, especially the magic of living things. A legacy of their succubi heritage. That sense was telling her that she would not be having an easy time of it if she wanted to win this tournament. She could not take her opponents lightly.

There was more to Krum than just being a star seeker. He felt quite strong and the reputation of Durmstrang meant that he was probably also quite dangerous with a wand.

But it was Potter that was the real surprise. How could a fourteen-year-old be this powerful? It was ridiculous. He felt stronger than most of her teachers. The burn scars on his right hand also told that he had already been involved in something dangerous. Given the effectiveness of magical healing, scars were usually the result of especially nasty magic. He had also proved himself clever with the way he had bypassed Dumbledore's Age Line, it may have been a simple way of doing it but it had still required a considerable amount of knowledge. She had no doubt that he would prove to be stiff opposition.

Moreover, there was something... _off_ about the feel of him. It made her vaguely uncomfortable to be in his presence, almost threatened. This was completely at odds with what she had felt a few hours previously, when she had been almost drawn to him, though there had been enough people around at the time that she could not be certain of anything.

The fact that he didn't _look_ fourteen also bothered her. Even now she could see the shadow of a beard on his face and fourteen-year-olds simply did not grow beards. It _could_ happen for a fourteen-year-old to be that tall, it was rare but not impossible. The adult look and facial hair however, could _not_ simply be attributed to early growth. A few stray chin hairs maybe, but not full beards. If she didn't know about the British prejudice against non-humans and had he been broader in body she would have assumed he had giant blood somewhere in his ancestry. But if it wasn't giant's blood, then what was it?

Just as she was thinking this, she felt an odd... _tug_ on her magic. She'd never felt anything like it and was deeply unnerved. A furtive glance around the room told her that Krum was still staring broodily into the fireplace, so he was unlikely to be the cause.

Potter had his eyes closed in an expression of concentration, as if thinking hard about something. Was it him?

She felt another tug, then a more recognizable sensation of foreign magic intruding in her aura space, easily identifiable as belonging to the green-eyed wizard this time. He still had his eyes closed, apparently expecting her to be oblivious to whatever he was doing.

She felt a swell of irritation at that. Though it was impressive that he was able to control his magic in this manner, he was not only underestimating her but also being quite rude. Touching another's magic like that was a personal thing for veela and about equivalent to copping a feel. Driven by that irritation, she flared her Allure powerfully, expecting him to turn into a stammering wreck. Resisting a veela's passive Allure was one thing, but a deliberate flexing was quite another.

Much to her surprise and further irritation, he merely opened his eyes and smirked at her. Of all the insufferable...

Fleur hated being mocked, but the sound of approaching footsteps halted any thoughts of escalating the situation.

XXXXX

Harry scowled briefly as he realized that his little confrontation with Delacour was being cut short. He'd been having fun playing what was essentially magical footsie with her. Not really what he'd set out to do, but he'd been learning such interesting things about her magic.

For one, he knew that she was much more aware of herself than most wizards and witches, whether it was due to her veela nature or because she was simply better than them he couldn't say.

Two, despite feeling like a miniature sun, he couldn't draw on her Light. That made sense, as the actual Sun wasn't a living being and had no sense of self, whereas she did.

Three, he felt fairly certain that Delacour was especially proficient with offensive magic and certain Charms, but would lag behind with Transfiguration. That she would be good with fire was barely worth mentioning, veela had a thing for fire.

Any more he'd have to learn at a later date, as the three school heads and two British Ministry officials entered the room.

Ludo Bagman came in first, practically bouncing with excitement. "Greetings, gentlemen and lady. I trust you've had enough time to introduce each other?"

The three of them gave muttered confirmations of this.

Bagman seemed a bit put off by the lack of energy in their reply, but rallied quickly. "Well, congratulations on being chosen as champions for your respective schools, I am certain just by looking at you that the Goblet of Fire chose well!"

"Hem, hem."

Harry wasn't sure whether that was supposed to be a throat clearing sound or a polite cough, but he knew that he hated it immensely. He hadn't heard anything this fake since Lockhart's bragging. Of course, it was no surprise that he hated it since it was coming from Umbridge. He suspected that he'd be tempted to punch her even if she told him that he'd just won the lottery.

"It was my understanding that only those who were at least seventeen years of age would be allowed to enter. Is Mr. Potter not merely a child of fourteen?" Umbridge said, making his jaw clench at her condescending tone. Harry got the distinct impression that she was still holding a grudge over the fact that he'd wiped his hand after shaking hers at the World Cup.

"Come now, Dolores!" Bagman jumped in. "The Goblet chose him out of all the Hogwarts students that entered their names, so there is hardly any excuse for backing out now."

"Ludo is correct. It is too late for Mr. Potter to withdraw even if he wished to. Once the Goblet chooses a champion, they must see the tournament through to the end or else forfeit their magic to it." Dumbledore added quickly, obviously playing peacekeeper.

Harry ignored Dumbledore's attempts to defuse the situation and started preparing a spell. Umbridge was certainly not the only one that could be resentful and calling him a child merited some payback.

"Then that should be his punishment for breaking the law set down by the Ministry." Umbridge insisted, her saccharine tone not quite managing to hide her glee at the idea. "After all, we wouldn't want this prestigious _wizarding_ event to become any more of a farce than it is already, would we?"

"And what exactly is zat supposed to mean?" The hitherto silent half-giant headmistress of Beauxbatons demanded, obviously catching on to the thinly veiled racism.

"No matter, no matter!" Bagman jumped in, sounding quite desperate to keep Umbridge from opening her mouth again. "We were only supposed to congratulate the champions for being chosen and inform them that the first task would take place on November 24th. As we have now done so, I propose that we retire."

"Excellent idea, Ludo" Dumbledore concurred, throwing his own weight behind the effort.

"So we are to just let this boy get away with breaking the law?" Umbridge demanded, getting a bit shrill in her frustration.

It was at this point that Harry was finished with his spell and placed it on Umbridge, who was going to be finding her next six or so hours very uncomfortable as the Itching Curse made her feel as if she had several dozen ants nibbling at her skin. He knew that it was quite effective from using it on Draco Malfoy last week.

Umbridge twitched and squirmed uncomfortably as the curse took hold, vainly trying to find some relief without outright scratching herself. Not that scratching would really help. Wandless magic was glorious in the way that some of it could be cast right under people's noses if you were careful with the crafting of the spells.

Well, under most people's noses.

He saw Dumbledore glance towards him, so the old man had probably felt him cast that. Unfortunate, but Harry didn't expect to keep his proficiency with wandless magic secret for much longer anyway.

"The rules of the Tri-Wizard Tournament are older than the laws of the Ministry and supercede them." Dumbledore declared with finality, essentially closing the topic.

Umbridge scowled and huffed, but also looked a bit too strained to argue further.

"And vhat will the first task be?" Krum asked.

"It will be a test of daring, so you won't be told what it is." Bagman answered eagerly, happy to move as far away from the awkwardness as possible. "You will be armed only with your wands and will not be permitted to ask for or accept help from your teachers. That is all for now."

"There is one other matter." Harry spoke up, significantly calmer now that he could see Umbridge's face developing a sheen of sweat. Revenge was sweet.

"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore prompted.

"I read that in past tournaments, champions were entitled to their own quarters in the hosting school. I think I'll take advantage of that. Oh, and I also want unrestricted access to the Restricted Section of the library." It would be nice to be able to read the books in there during the day instead of sneaking into it at night.

"Barely a champion for ten minutes and already making demands?" Karkaroff sneered.

Harry gave the Durmstrang headmaster a stony stare and held it until the man swallowed nervously and looked away. Unlike Dumbledore and Maxime, Karkaroff was a weakling with no conviction. He was dressed in fine robes and had made an effort to look intimidating, but his magic betrayed him for what he truly was.

"I will arrange it." Dumbledore said as though Karkaroff had never spoken. Harry was surprised by how easy that had been. And suspicious too. "Do our other champions have similar wishes?"

"Not ze quarters, but perhaps ze library." Delacour said almost reluctantly, as if unwilling to admit that there was anything in Hogwarts worth bothering with.

Krum looked thoughtful and Harry thought for a moment that the Bulgarian would ask for the quarters, but in the end settled for the same deal as the French veela.

"I will inform Madam Pince that you have free access." Dumbledore said calmly, as if he hadn't just given three teenagers unrestricted access to some rather dangerous literature.

And with that, they all filtered out of the room and went their own ways. Harry smirked as he watched Umbridge speedwalk away on her stubby legs. He had no doubt that she would spend the next few hours scratching herself like a crazed orangutan, only to discover that it gave no relief. There was a chance that she would manage to dispel the curse he put on her, but he doubted it. She didn't give the impression of a skilled witch and a simple _Finite Incantatem_ wouldn't cut it. Especially as he'd modified it to be particularly tenacious.

XXXXX

"It has been some time since these rooms were used, not since my early years as Hogwarts headmaster in fact." Dumbledore said as he opened the door to the rooms in question.

"That's a shame, they're nice rooms." Harry meant it too. While his room in Ravenclaw Tower was nothing to sneer it, it was a bit small. The room he was now in had to be at least four times its size with a rather excessively huge double bed, desk, carpets, couch, armchairs, windows, fireplace and adjoining bathroom. That last part was the best part of this deal, as Ravenclaws still had to share bathrooms like everyone else.

"So they are, but most professors do not care to have their quarters somewhere as out of the way as the sixth floor." Dumbledore said mildly.

That was probably because they didn't know that the Room of Requirement was only one floor up, Harry thought.

"Not even Snape?" He asked pointedly. He knew that the greasy Potions Master was even more reclusive than him.

Dumbledore coughed slightly. "Professor Snape prefers the dungeons."

"Of course he does."

Dumbledore decided to ignore the ambiguous statement. "You have obviously read up on the privileges afforded to Tri-Wizard champions, so you will undoubtedly be aware that you can have visitors or even more permanent company in these rooms."

Harry was indeed aware of that, though Dumbledore's words were carefully chosen to be vague. Permanent company could either be a wife or girlfriend as several past champions had been married already by the time of their choosing. More sinisterly, he was technically allowed to bring over non-magical slaves, though he doubted the Ministry would go for that no matter how obsessed with tradition they were. The magical world had lagged far, _far_ behind its mundane counterpart on the issue of slavery, only being formally abolished some years after the Statute of Secrecy went up. It had been falling out of use for a long time already due to the house elves though, which was probably the reason that the tournament rules still allowed it.

"I'll ask the house elves to move Luna's things in here, save her the trouble of sneaking in." He said, not letting his thoughts show.

"Very well." Dumbledore said, wondering at the relationship between the two. He was reasonably sure that Hary was still in a relationship with Nymphadora Tonks and wasn't entirely sure what to make of the rumors about him and the Lovegood girl. He had tried to take a look at her mind with Legilimency, but had gotten nothing out of it. The girl's thoughts were a baffling combination of scattered and focused, leaving him unable to glean anything useful with a passive scan and he would not stoop to using a full mental attack. He had never done it before and he wouldn't start now. He may not have gotten any useful information from the attempt, but he had at least gotten a chuckle out of the girl's serious contemplation on the nature of radishes.

The old wizard left shortly after that and Harry immediately started sweeping the room for any spying spells. Dumbledore's easy acquiesence made him suspicious. A clever wizard could use quite a few spells to spy on people from a distance.

The desk was clear of any suspicious spells that would copy whatever he wrote down to some other location. There was nothing in the room that would take whatever was said and relay it to a distant Dicta Quill. There were no portraits in the room. The closet only had the standard space expansion charms. The mirror had that annoying enchantment that gave it a faux-sentience and made it give unsolicited commentary on one's appearance – which delayed him for about fifteen minutes as he unraveled it –, but was otherwise clear.

An hour later, Harry had to admit that he probably wasn't being spied upon. How unexpected, he'd been certain that Dumbledore would try it.

 _Well, whatever. Might as well call Dora and Sirius to tell them that I've been chosen._

XXXXX

The next few days were strange and irritating, but mostly strange.

Harry had acquired fangirls. _Fangirls._

He had not anticipated this when he had decided to enter the tournament. They tried to hang around him whenever he showed up in the open. They giggled at everything he said and batted their eyelashes at him. Some made subtle offers to help him relax, others ran their feet over his junk during meal times or deep throated a banana.

Suffice to say, he started eating in the kitchens again or had the house elves bring him food up to the Room of Requirement.

Not that he was turned off by their offers, not at all. If things were different, he'd be happy to shag every single one of them. They were pretty, willing and he was a horny teenager. Some of them thought they could snag a position as his girlfriend, but that was their problem. He might be willing to screw a girl throwing herself at him because of his money or fame, but he'd never date one. If they felt cheap or used by that then they had only themselves to blame.

Of course, this was all a moot point because he had a girlfriend already. Harry suspected that his Animagus form was making it easier to refuse their offers than it would be otherwise. Ravens were monogamous. It wasn't doing anything for his libido however and he was now finding himself making booty calls to the girlfriend in question almost every other day. Though if he was being perfectly honest, he could have probably held out longer, he just liked having sex.

His avoidance of the fangirl phenomenon had made him an even rarer sight around the school than he'd been in past years. The only times that the general school population saw him was when he was moving from one place to another through the halls. The rest of the time he was either in the Room of Requirement, the library, or his new quarters.

At the moment, he was in the library, helping Luna with her Arithmancy.

"Like this, see?" Harry said, pointing out a particular equation. "You have to close the loop, or the enchantment will weaken over time as the magic leaks out of the item."

"That's more of a line." Luna reasoned.

"That's only because the enchantment is so simple." Harry explained. He knew that Luna had chosen Arithmancy because of her mother, who had been highly skilled in the discipline. His friend could not boast the same prodigious skill with it though. She wasn't horrible at it, and they were in fact doing something ahead of the third year curriculum, but her interests lay more in magical creatures, which was her other elective.

"Can you show me a more complicated one then?" Luna asked.

"Alright." Harry agreed and started writing down the formula for a marginally more complex enchantment that would animate an object to move in a set pattern.

He hadn't gotten more than halfway through it when they were interrupted by something even worse than a fangirl. A fan _boy_.

"Harry?" Colin Creevy said nervously.

"What?" Harry asked flatly. The overly energetic photographer wannabe had been a strain on his patience practically since the day he'd set foot in Hogwarts. Fortunately he'd made enough of a first impression with his foul tempered explosion at the start of second year that the hyperactive Grynffindor left him alone most of the time. Colin still had an annoying tendency to stare at him from a safe distance with starry eyes though.

"Err, they sent me to fetch you." Colin explained nervously. "Mr. Bagman wants you, I think they want to take photographs..."

Harry grimaced in disgust at the poor choice of wording. Obviously this was something to do with the tournament, but he could have done without the mental image of himself having sex with Bagman while someone took pictures. It was right up there with Two Girls One Cup.

"Right." He said, deciding to pretend that Colin hadn't just said something horrible. "I guess we're going to have to finish this later, Luna."

"Alright, Harry." She agreed.

"Lead the way then." Harry said as he stood to follow the small Gryffindor out of the library.

The two of them walked through the school in silence. Colin looked like he was desperate to say something, but Harry was quite deliberately exuding the most forbidding aura he could muster in an attempt to keep the excitable pest from talking.

"Good luck!" Colin squeaked out and fled as soon as they reached the disused classroom where he'd been told to bring Harry.

Harry snorted to himself as he opened the door. Good luck for what? Taking a picture?

He stepped in to see that all the desks and chairs had been pushed to the walls to make room. Bagman was present as Colin had said, talking to a witch in magenta robes that he realized had to be Rita Skeeter. Surely there couldn't be more than one blonde woman using those atrocious glasses that Dora had described to him?

The other two champions were already present, Krum his usual broody self and Delacour her usual haughty self. Fun. This was the first time he'd seen either of them since the champion selection a few days ago because they'd stayed in the Durmstrang ship or Beauxbatons carriages respectively. The only other person there was a pauchy man with a magical camera that was trying and failing to subtly ogle the French veela.

"Ah, here he is! Our last champion!" Bagman exclaimed when he caught sight of Harry, getting up and bounding towards him. "In you come, Harry, in you come...nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment –"

"Wand weighing?" Harry cut across the man's babble. Why the hell would anyone weigh a wand?

"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead." Bagman explained, apparently unruffled by the interruption. Maybe he was used to it. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing toward the witch in question. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the _Daily Prophet_..."

"Maybe not _that_ small, Ludo." Skeeter cut in, her eyes glinting as she looked at Harry.

"I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?" she said to Bagman, but still gazing fixedly at Harry. "The youngest champion, you know ...to add a bit of color?"

"Certainly!" cried Bagman enthusiastically, only to blanch when he looked at Harry.

The green-eyed wizard was staring down at him with a look of such cold anger that it made him want to flee the room.

"Err, that is, if Harry has no objection?" He finished meekly.

"Don't ever speak for me again, Bagman." Harry said slowly, as if talking to an especially dim child.

"Sorry!" Bagman squeaked, nervous sweat beading on his forehead. He let out an audible exhale of relief when Harry looked away.

Fleur and Viktor both looked at their fellow champion speculatively, reassessing his potential threat level based on his behavior.

"Well, how about that word now?" Skeeter said into the awkward silence that had ensued, getting up and moving towards Harry.

"Why me?" Harry asked.

"Pardon?" Skeeter said, faux-pleasant smile still in place.

"There are three champions, why do you want to talk to me in particular?" Harry elaborated. Of course, he knew already why she wanted to talk to him. She was hoping to write another toxic article, anyone that had ever read one of her 'contributions' to journalism could guess that much.

"Well...because you're the youngest. I wanted to get your unique perspective." Rita said, inwardly quite put off at being questioned like this. Her initial intention had been to manhandle Potter into a more private setting, but after seeing the size of him and how he had handled Ludo decided against it.

"I'm sure we all have unique perspectives." Harry said blandly. This woman was practically boiling with petty viciousness.

"Yes, but surely as the youngest..." Rita insisted. She _really_ wanted to get Harry alone.

"Yes, a whole three years of difference." Harry interrupted sarcastically. "Enough, either you talk to all of us or none of us."

Skeeter's mouth snapped shut audibly and her pleasant facade cracked for a moment into a hateful glare, but she brought herself under control quickly. "If you insist, let's get started then."

With that she reached into her crocodile skin handbag and pulled out an acid green quill.

"I vill not speak to a reporter who uses a Quick-Quotes Quill." Viktor declared flatly, scowling at Skeeter. He'd been warned about reporters like her.

"Neither will I." Fleur added. While she didn't really know what a Quick-Quotes Quill was or why the Bulgarian felt so strongly about this, she knew that this Skeeter woman was unpleasant and that he must have experience with reporters, so she took her cues from him.

Harry merely smirked slightly and started preparing another Itching Curse. Skeeter had already taken one shot at him but he had been willing to let that one go since it wasn't really worth the time it would take to get some revenge on her, but the stupid bitch just didn't know when to quit. A Quick-Quotes Quill was the ultimate tool of a papparazi, taking simple statements and turning them into sensationalist garbage. Actually a fairly impressive bit of enchantment if you ignored its purpose.

"Fine." Skeeter ground out, visibly irritated now as she put away the acid colored quill in favor of a normal one. "So, Harry, why did you decide to enter the tournament?"

"Because of reasons." Was the unhelpful, internet inspired response. The Itching Curse wasn't done yet and he couldn't spare the focus to talk about something else.

"What reasons?" Skeeter pushed.

"Private ones."

"What do you think your parents would think of you entering? Would they be proud? Was that why you entered?" Skeeter fired off rapidly, getting increasingly determined to provoke a response.

She got one too, as Harry finished weaving the curse and placed it on her.

"My parents are dead." He stated flatly. "They aren't capable of feeling anything anymore."

"What about your godfather, Sirius Black?" Skeeter asked next. She would have dearly loved to keep digging into the death of Potter's parents, but even she knew that she had to be careful with so many people present. It wouldn't do to be accused of being heartless. Besides, she'd just developed this extremely irritating itch over her legs and it was getting hard to think.

"What about him?" Harry asked, being deliberately obtuse. He was getting a kick out of seeing the toxic reporter squirming.

"Would he be proud of you?" Skeeter clarified, hunching forward a bit as the itch appeared between her shoulder blades as well, maddeningly just on the edge of being painful.

"You'd have to ask him." Harry shrugged. Of course Sirius was proud of him. The man seemed to think that getting around Dumbledore's Age Line was a great prank. "Anyway, I think you've asked me enough questions already."

"Fine!" The reporter snapped, her composure badly frayed as the unbearable crawling sensation moved towards her crotch. "Ms. Delacour, do you as a veela feel disadvantaged competing against proper wizards?"

Fleur had been feeling a rising sense of disbelief and disgust at this reporter and her questions. Not only was she pushy and rude, but asking about someone's deceased parents was in incredibly poor taste. Potter's obstructive answers had been amusing and she had to give him some credit for keeping his cool despite her irritation at him for the liberties he'd taken at the champion selection.

Then this obnoxious woman had turned to her and asked that blatantly racist question _._ Veela tended to be quick to anger as a general rule and Fleur was no different in this regard. The implication that she was somehow less because she was veela left only one possible response.

" _Va te faire foutre, pétasse._ " She spat.

Harry didn't speak French, but he could recognize tonal inflection and was thus reasonably certain that his fellow champion had just said something exceedingly rude. His opinion of her went up several notches.

Any further escalation to this drama was cut off as Dumbledore, Maxime, Karkaroff and Ollivander entered the room.

"Well, it seems you've all been getting along." Dumbledore said with twinkling eyes, acting as if he couldn't sense how hostile the air was.

XXXXX

The next several minutes were spent having their wands examined by Ollivander. Nothing too interesting about that, though Harry did finally learn why Fleur's wand felt so strange. She had her grandmother's hair as a core. Interesting that, he had noticed that Fleur's hair seemed to have magical properties in the way that a fully human witch or wizard's wasn't but hadn't thought it could be used as a wand core.

The creepy old wandmaker still gave Harry the same speculative eye that he'd given him years ago when he'd first purchased his wand, but he knew why that was now. His ability to make any wand react back then, however weakly, had betrayed his prior dabbling with magic. And since he'd obviously never held a wand before, that meant that he'd been doing it wandlessly. It was just pure luck on Harry's part that Ollivander didn't make a habit of revealing these things to other people...presumably.

The other bit of entertainment had been watching Skeeter flush, sweat, squirm, fidget, scratch and be generally uncomfortable as the Itching Curse took its course. No wonder people went evil if it felt this good to see your enemies suffer.

Once the wand weighing was done, Dumbledore stood up from where he'd been sitting at the judges' table. "Thank you all. You may go back to your lessons now, or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end –"

The silent photographer stood up at that and cleared his throat meaningfully.

"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" Bagman quickly backed him up. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita? My word, Rita, are you alright?" The last was said in alarm as Bagman finally noticed how frazzled the reporter was looking.

"Yes, fine." Skeeter said tersely, desperately trying to ignore the sensation of tiny insect pincers biting into her heels.

The photography session that followed was singularly annoying. First they had wasted a good ten minutes trying to get Madam Maxime to fit into the picture before conceding defeat and having her sit down and now they were dealing with smaller issues. Krum kept trying to skulk to the back and hide while Karkaroff kept pushing him forward, Bagman kept changing his mind, Skeeter was getting progressively more snappish due to the curse and the photographer was persistently trying to get Fleur into the front of the shot and using the excuse to touch her.

Harry could practically hear her teeth grinding. He could commiserate, as he was getting pretty pissed himself.

He cast another couple of Itching Curses, this time on Bagman and the photographer. Dumbledore glanced at him disapprovingly, but Harry was past caring.

Fleur's eyebrows rose ever so slightly as the annoying Ministry official and the pig of a photographer showed how uncivilized they truly were by scratching at themselves as if their lives depended on it. She'd noticed that Skeeter had been looking mighty uncomfortable for quite a while and wondered if it was related, perhaps even contagious. She wouldn't put anything past the British.

She glanced at the green-eyed wizard currently standing next to her. He looked impassive, but Fleur could detect a hint of satisfaction from his surprisingly closed off presence.

"What did you do to zem?" She asked quietly.

He looked briefly urprised, but schooled his features quickly and murmured a response. "What did you say to Skeeter?"

While Fleur was irritated at having a question answered with a question, she understood that he was suggesting an exchange of information. Besides, it wasn't as if what she had said was any kind of secret.

"I told 'er to go fuck 'erself." She translated, chin lifted in an unconscious gesture of defiance to the expected disapproval.

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing. The idea of the ultra beautiful veela with her refined image being so vulgar really tickled his funny bone.

"Appropriate." He said after a few moments, still sounding amused.

She raised an eyebrow back at him, obviously expecting an answer to her own question.

"Itching Curse." He admitted.

Fleur's lips curled into a slight smirk.

"Appropriate, but 'ow did you cast eet?"

Harry merely smiled mysteriously.

XXXXX

Lucious Malfoy was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted and was willing to go to great lengths to get it.

That he hadn't gotten Sirius Black and Harry Potter into the obituary displeased him greatly, but he supposed that he should have known better. There was a reason that the peons he'd manipulated into attacking the two at the World Cup always had an Inner Circle Death Eater leading them during the war. They would probably find a way to screw up brewing a cup of tea without someone looking over their shoulder and barking instructions.

He had been brooding over a way to kill Potter and Black ever since that failure, but had come up with few viable plans. Potter was at Hogwarts and essentially untouchable under Dumbledore's protection and Black under the wards of Potter Manor. Black was the more vulnerable of the two, but one did not simply assault the manor of an old family. They'd never get the job done in time. Black _did_ leave the manor frequently enough, but that wasn't too helpful as Lucius didn't know that enough in advance to arrange another assassination. The man didn't even attend Wizengamot sessions.

And then out of nowhere came a stroke of such good fortune that Lucius could scarcely believe it.

His wife had heard through a string of gossip that Black had been seen in Diagon Alley, keeping company with the infamous Adrastia 'Black Widow' Zabini. A pureblood from a minor Italian Noble House, Zabini was notorious for the string of dead husbands she'd left all over Europe. Husbands who always died in tragic accidents or suicides shortly after they either ran out of gold to pay for her expensive lifestyle or after they signed it over to her. Anyone with a lick of sense in their heads stayed well away from her.

At first, Lucius couldn't fathom what Black was thinking. The man had a reputation as a womanizer and had never been especially bright, but surely even he would know better? Zabini had come to Britain some years back to put her son in Hogwarts and had left it with another dead husband and impoverished family to her name.

Poor, skeptical Archibald. He never believed anything that he didn't verify himself. Well, he'd verified it alright. As usual there was not a shred of evidence of foul play, but everyone knew that his wife of two days had killed him.

Of course, the explanation was obvious. Black had been in Azkaban since the end of the war, he was out of the loop and wouldn't have heard of Zabini.

While Lucius would be a bit miffed at losing the Black family gold, he was willing to let it go in exchange for having one of his problems solved by a third party without any need to involve himself. Adrastia Zabini cared nothing for politics and wouldn't try to take control of the family even if she married Black and killed him. The Malfoys had enough gold on their own that the much diminished Black vaults weren't of critical importance.

The stroke of good fortune didn't end there though.

Potter had entered himself into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the contest that been cancelled exactly because people had died in it so often. How wonderful it was when your enemies put themselves in mortal peril of their own volition.

He'd started digging around to discover what the tasks would be as soon as he'd heard that bit of news. Why leave Potter's death to chance when he could stack the deck?

The first task was going to be taking a golden egg from nesting dragons. Plenty dangerous enough all by itself, but Lucius was still going to do everything in his power to make it even more so.

"A great spectacle." Lucius was saying to Cornelius Fudge, stroking the man's ego. "Few enough wizards and witches see live dragons, so an event such as this gives the Ministry a lot of good publicity."

"Yes, I thought so too." Fudge blustered. "There were some safety concerns at first, but the best students of the three best wizarding schools in the world are surely up to the challenge."

"No doubt." Lucius agreed. "Though it seems to me that there is room for accusations of favoritism."

"Favoritism?" Fudge echoed blankly.

"The three dragons chosen for the task are not of the same breed, some are more dangerous than others." Lucius explained patiently, well used to dealing with the dimwitted man.

"Oh...oh!" Fudge exclaimed, catching on. "So we should have them all face the same breed of dragon?"

"Yes, and I also believe that none of the breeds chosen are truly appropriate. All of them are fairly tame and may not put up much of a fight." Tame by dragon standards that was, which was not really tame at all.

"Which one do you think we should use then?" Fudge asked.

"The Hungarian Horntail seems like the best balance between speed, strength and firebreath." That it was also the most ill-tempered and violent breed went unsaid.

"The Hungarian Horntail?" Fudge said nervously. "Isn't that a rather dangerous breed?"

 _Of course it is you idiot, that's the point._ Lucius' thoughts didn't show on his face as he gave a smooth reply. "As you said yourself, the champions represent the best that the Wizarding World has to offer. We should not insult them with subpar challenges."

Fudge nodded slowly, in a manner that suggested he was actually capable of thought. "Quite right, Lucius, quite right. It would be a shame to get people excited only to have the champions breezing through the tournament because it was too easy."

"Well said, Cornelius. You always did have a keen sense for what the public wants."

It was too bad about Krum, as the Bulgarian seeker was a proper wizard, but he might also get that halfbreed creature with this scheme. Lucius did so love a bargain.

XXXXX

Adrastia smiled a predator's smile as Sirius groaned under her and discharged his seed. In this unguarded moment when all his defenses were lowered and he gave of himself to her, she wrapped the tendrils of her magic around him and drew him in even further. She had done it before and she would do it again, until his entire world revolved around her.

He opened his eyes and stared up at her adoringly. In this moment, he loved her, but his magic was already disentangling itself from hers and the sensation was fading. That was alright, she was in no hurry. She had a whole year to play with him and it would give her time to decide on an appropriate death. He was young, handsome, strong, rich and not at all bad in bed. A better plaything than most and one that it would be a shame to discard prematurely.

XXXXX

Harry let out a long, content sigh as he released into his girlfriend again.

Lying on her stomach under him, Tonks just groaned softly as her insides tingled with pleasure.

Relaxing into post-coital bliss, Harry spread his magic over hers like a spiritual hug and settled down to enjoy the moment. Feeling her relax and open up to him completely in these moments was every bit as good as the actual sex.

A few minutes later, he felt her breathing even out and her presence become muted as she drifted off to sleep.

Harry sighed in slight disappointment, but smiled all the same, planting a kiss on her neck, getting off her and covering her with sheets they'd kicked off a while ago. He could easily go for another round or two, but Dora had a long day behind her already and he wasn't going to keep her awake. He'd been tiring her out with his frequent visits too.

Besides, he would be back for more soon enough.

XXXXX

Harry loved to fly and would transform into his Animagus form every few days and simply glide over the Forbidden Forest for a few hours. The local ravens and crows would often join him.

Tonight though, they were strangely reluctant to approach the forest and wanted to fly around it in a wide circle.

Animagi usually developed the ability to communicate with animals that were similar to their form after they spent enough time around them. Pettigrew had been able to communicate with other rats easily. Sirius could manage basic communication with other dogs and wolves. Harry was still fairly new at it, but he could manage and it helped that his particular bird species was especailly intelligent.

 _Predator. Flying. Large. Lizard. Fire._ That was the gist of what he could decipher from their cawing and croaking, but it was enough. There was a friggin' dragon in the Forbidden Forest, which made no sense at all. How was the whole forest not on fire yet?

Far too curious to just leave it alone, he flew over the forest in a searching pattern and managed to find the spot easily enough.

Only, there wasn't just one dragon, but three of them. Vicious looking beasts with black scales, bronze horns and equally bronze tail spikes. They mystery of the forest not being in flames was explained by the large team of wizards around them, dragon handlers no doubt.

Harry watched for a few minutes as the dragon handlers struggled to calm the flying lizards down before giving up and launching enough Stunning Spells at each of them to kill a human from the shock. The dragons looked like they would stay awake for a moment before succumbing.

 _Looks like they intend to have me fight a dragon for the first task._ That was rather more extreme than he'd expected, but there was nothing else for it now. He'd have to figure out a strategy.

XXXXX

Fleur was forced to admit – with a great deal of reluctance – that the library in Hogwarts was very impressive. More impressive than the one in Beauxbatons for certain, though she assuaged her pride by reminding herself that Hogwarts had not been sacked by Grindelwald. Even sixty years later, they were still retrieving things that the Dark Lord and his followers had stolen from the ancient school.

She'd come here several times since being chosen as a champion, curiousity compelling her to take a look at the Restricted Section since she had full access. This time she was here with a specific purpose however, she needed to research dragons.

 _Dragons!_ Were these English completely insane? Making them take a golden egg from a nesting mother, a Hungarian Horntail of all breeds, was nearly as good as sending them to certain death. Fleur knew that she could use her own unique gifts to lull magical beasts to sleep...in theory. She had never heard of it being done on a dragon and certainly not on the most ornery breed. She needed a backup plan in case it failed, the tournament not allowing forfeits, and backup plans required information.

A few minutes later she had a book on dragons in hand and was looking for a suitable place to read it when she caught sight of Harry Potter doing that very thing. He was alone, so she figured that his little blonde friend must be in class.

The Hogwarts champion was turning out to be quite the mystery and Fleur had always liked a good mystery. Pride had prevented her from seeking him out earlier despite her curiousity, but this was an opportunity – or in other words an excuse – to talk to him without making it look like she was interested in him. The fact that she was actually interested in him was ignored. She couldn't help being interested in powerful wizards, another legacy of the veela's succubi heritage, though one that was thankfully easy enough to ignore.

There were things about Harry Potter that Fleur wanted to know, things that didn't necessarily fall under the topic of keepings tabs on the competition. How was he so powerful? How had he cast those Itching Curses without anyone noticing? What was he like as a person?

Fleur had been at Hogwarts long enough now that a few rumors about Potter had reached her ears via her fellow Beauxbatons students. Powerful, intelligent, private and reclusive to the point of anti-social was the general opinion on Harry Potter. He attended classes according to his own whims and treated the rules as if they only applied to other people. There were also some rumors of him being a womanizer, sleeping around with older girls as well as that young friend of his, but Fleur wasn't sure if she believed those. She'd been the subject of enough rumors herself to know how quickly they diverged from the truth. She'd only slept with a couple of the better looking boys at Beauxbatons, but the jealous bitches of the school would have people believe that she would sleep with anything that walked upright. She wouldn't even have put it past them to claim that she had seduced the Goblet of Fire into choosing her, no matter how little sense that made.

She dithered for just a moment longer before making up her mind and striding determinedly towards his table.

"May I zit wiz you?" She asked politely, showing nothing of the discomfort she felt. It was a new experience to worry about being refused. None of the boys at Beauxbatons would have been able to do so, but this Harry Potter was a much greater wizard than them.

Potter looked up from his book – a book on dragon lore she noticed – with a hint of surprise in his impossibly green eyes. _It should be illegal to have eyes like that._ Fortunately for her pride, he gestured to one of the free seats and went back to his book.

Fleur fought down a bristling sense of irritation. Veela did not like being ignored. She supposed it was better than glassy-eyed drooling, but it still stung to be so easily dismissed.

"Your 'eadmaster 'as told you about ze dragons as well then?" She asked with a gesture at his book, looking to start a conversation.

To her surprise he snorted, sounding halfway between amused and derisive. "Dumbledore didn't tell me anything."

Fleur hadn't been expecting that. Madam Maxime had taken her aside the other day and explained what the task would be and she had no doubt that Karkaroff had done the same for Krum. That Dumbledore would actually respect the rules had never even crossed her mind.

"'Ow did you find out about ze dragons then?" She asked curiously.

The green-eyed wizard gave her a teasing smile to go along with his equally teasing answer. "It's a secret."

Fleur huffed, amused in spite of herself. She had gotten something of a mixed opinion about Potter so far, but he seemed nice enough.

The amusement quickly vanished when she felt another probing touch slither across her magic.

"Stop zat!" She snapped, glaring at the impertinent wizard. She had just about managed to leave the previous instance of this happening in the past and now he went and did it again.

Potter blinked, brows furrowed slightly in apparent confusion. "Sorry? I was just trying to get a handle on your magic, I've never seen anything like it before."

"Eet eez rude to do zo without conzent." Fleur told him, calming down a bit.

"Ah, I didn't know that." He admitted. "Sorry again."

"Apology accepted." He seemed sincere, so she could let it go. Veela were taught these things by their mothers, but he would not have had anyone to do so for him. That did bring up other questions though. "'Ow did you learn to touch anuzzer's magic like zat?"

He was silent for a moment and Fleur could almost hear him deliberating whether he should tell her or not.

Finally he shrugged and gave her an answer. "I got a book on sex magic as a Christmas gift last year, there was a section on it there."

That _would_ explain it, though Fleur suspected that there was more to it than that. His magic had a baffling flip-flopping feel to it, ominous at some points and soothing at others. It was the latter right now, which had been part of the reason she had decided to talk to him instead of walking away.

"Eez that not illegal in Britain?" Most European Ministries had relaxed their stance on sex magic somewhat in the past few decades, but Britain was definitely not one of them.

"A lot of things are illegal in Britain." He said with a smirk that implied he had done quite a few of those things.

Fleur had come to this country prepared to hate everyone and everything in it, but she was starting to like this boy that was not a boy. He was interesting and spoke to her with the respect one would give to an equal instead of acting superior like she had expected him to. That he didn't seem to have any respect for his own government was also a point in his favor. Perhaps competing against him in this tournament would actually be enjoyable, provided they didn't all get roasted by the dragons. Speaking of which...

"Zo...'ave you zought of a way to get past ze dragon yet?" She asked casually, throwing her silvery blonde hair in a gesture that never failed to distract men. She had her own ideas, but she was not above fishing for information with her life on the line.

"Get past them?" He repeated with a blink, not reacting to her flirty gesture. "I thought we were supposed to kill them?"

Fleur gaped at him. He had seriously been expecting to fight a fully grown dragon all by himself? That was even more insane than taking a fake egg from its nest. A nesting mother would at least not pursue you and abandon its other eggs if you managed to get away, no matter how much they liked shiny objects.

" _Non_ , eet was my understanding zat we are supposed to steal a golden egg from eets nest."

"Huh." He seemed rather nonplussed by that, but also thoughtful. "That changes things... Thank you Ms. Delacour, you've just made things substantially easier for me."

Giving critical information to the competition had certainly not been her intention, but she wasn't sure if letting him go into the first task prepared to _kill_ a dragon would have been any better. "You are welcome Mr. Potter, and please call me Fleur."

"You should call me Harry then." He returned with a smile.

Yes, Fleur could definitely see herself liking at least one thing about Britain. She was not yet ready to contemplate a relationship with the powerful young wizard, but would not turn him down if he continued to be like this. Given the subtle disdain he'd showed for his homeland, she might even be able to convince him to move to France if things went that way.

XXXXX

That night, Harry was in his new quarters, deep in thought.

That had been an interesting conversation he'd just had with Fleur. If he was interpreting the signals correctly(and he was fairly sure that he was), then the French veela had been giving him the green light to make a move on her.

If he wasn't already spoken for, he would be all over that. Alas, he would not – as the Americans say – be tapping that ass. That was a pity, as he was sure that veela must be demons in bed. Succubus pun!

On a more serious note, learning that the first task would not be a battle to the death with a dragon was very important. Perhaps he should not have blown Hagrid off when the half-giant had tried to take him into the forest, no doubt to show him the dragons? He didn't have much of a relationship with their new Care of Magical Creatures professor, the half-giant obviously having drunk far too much of Dumbledore's kool-aid for Harry to want to be around him. Actually now that he thought about it, the whole trip to the Forbidden Forest had probably been one of the old man's schemes. Maxime and Karkaroff might have just straight up told their champions what the task was, but Dumbledore was subtler than that, it made it harder to point any fingers at him if any word of cheating got out.

This new information opened up options, one of which he needed some outside help for.

So he called up Penny.

"Evening." She greeted, eyebrows already raised expectantly. "What do you need, Harry?"

"Nothing too difficult this time." He assured her. "I need you to see if you can buy me a couple of cow carcasses."

Penny blinked. "Could you repeat that? I could swear I heard you say that you need me to buy a couple of cow carcasses."

"That's exactly what I said." Harry nodded.

Penny opened her mouth but seemed to think better of it and just shook her head. "I'm not even going to ask."

Bless that girl, she was a gem. Giving her a job had definitely been one of his better decisions.

"I also need a few plastic bags that can be vacuum sealed."

"That's easier than the cow carcasses at least." Penny muttered.

"Thanks, Penny." Said Harry and cut the connection.

He turned towards his roommate, who was sitting crosslegged on the bed and staring at him with expectant blue eyes, waiting for them to start on the nightly Occlumency sessions that he'd taken to teaching her this year. She knew too many of his secrets to have her mind open. Fortunately, she seemed to have an exceptional knack for the discipline.

"Hey, Luna?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"How would you like to help me brew a Draught of Living Death?"

"I would love to."

XXXXX

 _Breakfast at Potter Manor._

"What's with that stupid grin?" Tonks asked, staring at Sirius suspiciously and wondering if he'd pulled a prank.

"Probably the same reason you look so tired." Sirius chuckled, chewing on some bacon with relish.

"I've seen you the day after you got laid before and you weren't this cheerful." Tonks argued, not bothering to deny that she was tired because of Harry. He'd kept her up until four in the morning when she'd told him that she had the next day off.

"He's been like that for a couple of weeks now." Penny chimed in. "I think he's got himself a proper girlfriend but he's being all mysterious about it."

"Sirius Black in a relationship?" Tonks said in mock horror. "Say it isn't so!"

"Laugh all you want, but this one is special." Sirius huffed.

Two pairs of eyebrows went up as the women exchanged surprised glances. That was definitely weird for Sirius 'bachelor for life' Black.

"So, who is the unfortunate woman that has to put up with your lame puns?" Tonks asked.

"You'll get to meet her at the first task, I'm not telling you before then."

"Fine, keep your secrets." She pouted.

"Speaking of the first task, I could use your help with something." Penny jumped in.

"What?" Sirius and Tonks said together.

"Harry asked me to buy him a couple of cow carcasses and I would appreciate your help with the transport." Arranging _that_ had gotten her so many strange looks, not to mention the problems involved in arranging it all so that it was all above board and that there were no violations to the Statute of Secrecy. Harry had better appreciate this.

"Why would he need a..." Tonks trailed off with a groan as it dawned on her why Harry could possibly need something like that. Really, what other use do whole cow carcasses have other than feeding something big and carnivorous?

"You don't think they're having him fight some big magical beast do you?" Sirius asked nervously, having come to the same conclusion.

"I don't see what else it could be." Tonks replied unhappily. Harry just _had_ to enter himself into this damn tournament didn't he?

"He didn't sound too worried about it when I talked to him." Penny offered, trying to make them feel better. "He seems to have a plan at least."

"I'm still going to smack him one for not telling me about it." Tonks grumbled.

"It sounded like he was busy with more important matters." Sirius said cheekily.

"Shut up, Sirius."

XXXXX

 **For those of you expecting Harry's name to come out of the goblet twice, recall that Voldie is still cooling his heels in Albania because Wormtail got blown up. Yes, it would have been funny, but you work with what you got xD.**

 **On the up side, we've started moving into the more interesting parts of the story(for me at least), so I might be able to keep up a faster update schedule. Don't expect it to always be weekly though.**

 **EDIT: I've had to replace Fleur's cursing because I've been advised that "eat shit and die" doesn't translate into French too well. Go figure. Shoutout to Talen45100 for the heads up on that one.**


	18. Chapter 18

**All the beta credit goes to Joe Lawyer.**

XXXXX

"So where is this girlfriend of yours?" Tonks asked of her cousin, eager to meet the woman who had managed to put a leash on him.

"She told me she'd be in that section over there..." Sirius replied in a distracted manner, looking over the stadium to spot his paramour. "...Ah! There she is."

"Which one?" Penny asked, just as curius as Tonks.

"The dark skinned one over there, wearing black and white." Sirius specified, pointing his finger in the general direction and hurrying towards her.

The two women had no trouble locating her after that. Indeed, she did rather stand out dressed as she was in close fitting black velvet robes trimmed with white fur.

Tonks and Penny exchanged a look, both wondering if Sirius had run afoul a gold digger of some sort or if the woman was rich in her own right, as the outfit had to be obscenely expensive. That impression was only reinforced as they got closer and noticed that she also had an exquisite dark blue tearstone sapphire necklace around her neck and another couple of similar gems dangling from her ears.

"Sirius, I was beginning to think you had stood me up." The woman said as they approached, a slight smile on her face. She was incredibly beautiful.

Tonks felt her stomach drop slightly as she heard the Italian accented English. She'd heard rumors from the more senior aurors about a certain Italian witch, but surely Sirius' luck wasn't that bad?

"You wound me, I would never stand up such lady." Sirius replied, grinning happily as he took her outstreched hand and pressed a kiss to it. "Now, may I present my cousin, Auror Nymphadora Tonks, and Penelope Clearwater, Potter family steward."

"Just Tonks." Tonks said automatically, her mind still on the potential identity of this woman.

"Call me Penny."

"A pleasure." The woman said with a nod, smile widening sligtly.

"Girls, meet my mysterious lady friend, Adrastia Zabini."

 _Fuck._ Tonks thought eloquently, stomach dropping all the way. Of course Sirius would manage get infatuated with a woman who had 'Black Widow' as an all but formal title, why had she ever expected him to have a normal girl? The pun inherent in the title and Sirius' last name might have been funny in different circumstances.

"Nice to finally meet you." Penny said sincerely and decided to go for a joke to break the ice. "I hope you can keep Sirius in line, he's a bit of a dog."

"Oh, I know and I will." Adrastia purred, smile taking a challenging quality for just a moment as she glanced at the young auror. It was always amusing to see law enforcement trying to find proof of her hobby only to fail and stare helplessly as she got away with murder after murder.

Tonks saw the smile and returned it with a hollow one of her own. She had a horrible feeling that saving her cousin from the trouble he'd dipped his cock into this time would not be as simple as telling him that Zabini was out to kill him. She couldn't cause a scene right here either way.

"Looks like it's starting." Sirius said, pointing down into the arena. "They're bringing out the first dragon."

The sight of the vicious and pissed off looking Hungarian Horntail brought her mind to a different worry. Harry had told her what he planned to do and she had to agree that it was a good plan, but there was no such thing as 'perfectly safe' when you were dealing with dragons.

She hoped he would be alright, she'd gotten quite fond of him in the time that they'd been together and she might need his help to save her fool cousin.

XXXXX

Fleur swallowed nervously as she looked into the dragon's belligerent yellow eyes, staring at her balefully as it crouched over its eggs. It was more intimidating than she had expected it to be.

This was not going to be easy. Her approach would bypass its magic resistant scales, but she could do nothing but hope that it be enough to overcome its foul disposition.

Unfortunately, the crowd would work against her in this and having Bagman screaming out an excited commentary certainly wouldn't help. She hoped that he would at least keep his mouth shut when it counted.

With a final fortifying breath, Fleur started singing a French lullaby that her mother had sung to her when she had been a child.

Veela shared many similarities with each other. The one that was relevant at this point was that they all had a love of song and could easily carry a tune without any need for lessons or practice. It was unheard of for a veela to be a bad singer. Their voices held magic when they were lifted in song.

XXXXX

 _In the champion's tent._

Harry's head tilted sideways when Fleur's song reached his ears. He didn't understand the words, but he knew the magic.

 _That's another piece of that puzzle falling into place._

XXXXX

It was working, Fleur saw with relief. The Horntail was looking less agitated and it was blinking slowly. Sometimes it would shake its head as if trying to stay alert.

She continued singing, keeping her voice soft and soothing and repeating the lullaby several times as she ran out of lines. Little by little, the Horntail's eyes drifted shut and it laid its head on the ground, beginning to snore.

Fleur continued singing just in case and slowly approached, struggling to keep her legs from shaking. The dragon was no longer her greatest enemy now. If the crowd started cheering or Bagman started braying, it would wake up, likely even angrier than it had been before.

To her immeasurable relief, everyone stayed quiet as she gently lifted the golden egg from the nest and walked away as fast as she dared, still singing.

The crowd screamed in approval. The dragon snorted and woke up. It saw her with the egg and roared a jet of flame towards her.

Fleur abandoned all pretense of bravery and ran for it. Fortunately she had been far enough away that she wasn't roasted, but if the heat she felt was any indication it had been a near thing.

Task finished, she threw her hair and looked expectantly at the judges. They had better give her a perfect score for this.

Madam Maxime did so, as did Dumbledore. That was where all sense of fairness ended however.

Bagman gave an eight, looking terrible reluctant to do it. Fleur was outraged, but quickly forgot about the unctuous man when the last two judges held up their own scores.

Karkaroff gave her a five and Umbridge a two.

The only thing that stopped her from transforming into avian form and incinerating the both of them was the fact that Madam Maxime and even the crowd were just as outraged at the blatantly unfair scoring.

XXXXX

Viktor scowled at the dragon, mostly out of habit.

Why had he entered himself into this tournament again? Oh yes, because it was expected of him. He had gotten used to doing what was expected of him. Photo sessions and interviews and shaking hands with people, he did it all but he hated it. He just wanted to play quidditch, but he was good and success inevitably drew attention.

When news of this stupid tournament had come, everyone expected him to represent Durmstrang. Even the Bulgarian quidditch team expected him to enter and bring them more publicity. Nobody even bothered to wonder if he _wanted_ to enter.

He wasn't even the best choice for a champion. He was a stronger than most of those around his age, but Durmstrang had stronger. Karkaroff had left those behind to make sure that he was chosen. With the amount of time he invested into quidditch training, he could hardly be expected to keep up with his more studious peers in the study of magic.

Now here he was, staring a dragon in the snout and about to poke it in the eye.

Viktor knew that it wasn't a good plan. Unfortunately, he had never been much of a problem solver. He was fairly good at the direct approach, but lacked the imagination for something more inventive. Karkaroff thought that blinding the dragon was a good plan, but Karkaroff was an idiot. Too bad it was the only plan he had.

There was nothing to do except get to it really. He wasn't in the habit of quitting even if the contract had allowed it.

The Conjunctivitis Curse flew from his wand and struck true, causing the Horntail to roar its fury as it was blinded. It stumbled and smashed two of its real eggs, making Viktor grimace, but he pushed on. He had to get that egg.

A gout of fire missed him by a mile, but the madly stomping legs were more difficult to avoid. More than once he had to abort an attempt to snatch the egg because the Horntail's thrashing was so unpredictable. Worse still, it was starting to use its hearing to track him rather than its eyes.

Deciding to make use of this, Viktor cast a low powered blasting curse as far around the dragon as he could see, hoping to turn its focus away from him.

The speed with which it turned startled him and Viktor's eyes barely had time to widen as the viciously spiked tail came sweeping towards him. Too big to jump over. Too low to slide under. Too long to dodge back.

XXXXX

Harry knew that something had gone wrong when the gasps and cheers of the crowd became a chorus of horrified screaming. It didn't take a genius to guess that Krum had gotten severely injured at the very least.

This was confirmed a few minutes later when Bagman came into the tent, wringing his hands nervously and stuttering out that he would have to wait a bit for his turn while they removed Krum's body from the arena.

"Abso-fucking-lutely beautiful." Harry muttered to himself once Bagman stumbled his way out of the tent. The tournament sure was off to a lovely start.

XXXXX

Sirius' face had an ashen pallor as the dragon handlers carefully lifted Krum's body from the Horntail's tail spikes, where it hung impaled like some kind of macabre trophy.

"That was what I suggested that Harry should do." He whispered, guts twisting with horror. He'd figured that a blinded dragon wouldn't be all that dangerous. It couldn't hurt you if it couldn't see, right? Apparently it could.

"It's a good thing he has his own ideas then." Tonks said tightly, hair slowly regaining color from the bleached white it had been the past several minutes.

"Your cousin is quite right, Sirius. Didn't you always tell me how clever your godson is?" Adrastia said with a pat on Sirius' arm, not even slightly bothered by the sight of death by dragon. One of her ex-husbands had gone a similar way when trying to demonstrate how brave he was. At her prodding.

"Yeah, Harry's smarter than this." Sirius said with a relieved exhale. Tonks and Adrastia were right, Harry would be fine.

XXXXX

It took the better part of an hour before Harry was called out into the arena to face his own dragon. It was a magnificent beast and egregiously magical. He could see the shimmer of it in the black scales.

It was depressing to think of the fact that wizards had reduced this powerful predator to cattle. There were no free dragons left in the world, all of them lived either in preserves or on dragon farms where they were bred only to eventually be slaughtered for the sake of armor, potions ingredients, wand cores and straight out meat. And dung, can't forget that dragon dung was a great fertilizer.

Harry understood the reason for it. Dragons didn't give a shit about the Statute of Secrecy and they were a living violation of it. They certainly wouldn't be able to fly or breathe fire if they obeyed the laws of physics.

It was still depressing even though it made sense. It took away the sense of wonder and nobility about dragons to treat them like that. A stray bit of video game wisdom came to mind at that thought.

 _There is nothing noble about a dragon. It's ten tons of flaming muscle powered by a brain the size of a gooseberry._

While he wasn't sure about the weight, the rest seemed spot on. It really was just an animal, an impressive animal, but an animal all the same. Considering that he had recently bought the carcasses of two butchered cows, complaining that dragons weren't treated fairly on the basis that they were cooler than cows was just a wee bit hypocritical.

It took little effort to summon the trunk in which said cow carcasses were being held, having placed it nearby in preparation for the task.

A murmur of surprise went through the crowd as the first cow carcass floated out of it under his levitation charm. It was a pretty blatant sign that he'd known about the dragons in advance.

The Horntail stopped glaring at him and began to track the snack through the air with interest. Harry was glad to see that. It would have been the height of irony if it wasn't hungry. He moved the carcass towards it and the dragon only gave it a couple of suspicious sniffs before snatching it in its jaws and gobbling it down.

Harry repeated the exercise with the other carcass and settled down to wait. The dragon looked at him expectantly, obviously hoping for a third, but he had nothing more to give it. Eventually, it snorted a bit of flame towards him and went back to glaring.

He wondered how long it would take for the Draught of Living Death he'd placed into the chest cavities of those carcasses in vacuum sealed plastic bags to take effect.

Not long as it turned out. The Horntail started looking woozy after a few minutes and quickly fell asleep.

After that it was a simple matter of walking up to the nest and grabbing the egg. The crowd seemed more than a bit confused and disappointed at the lack of spectacle, but he'd completed the task with minimal fuss and hadn't been in danger of sharing the fate of Viktor Krum, so Harry was not going to concern himself with their opinion.

Dumbledore and Bagman gave him tens and Madam Maxime a nine. Karkaroff, looking both queasy and furious gave him a four and Umbridge a three with a sickly sweet smile.

The blatant bias wasn't surprising, so Harry did no more than give a mocking little bow in their direction and walked out of the enclosure, smiling at the outraged screams of the audience.

To Harry's surprise he was accosted by another dragon as soon as he was out.

"Dragons!" Madam Pomfrey spat without preamble and tried to drag him into the first aid tent.

Harry irritably pulled his arm free. "I'm fine."

"I'll be the judge of that, Potter." The nurse snapped back irritably. She'd gone through decades of students telling her they were fine when they weren't, this particular boy's father being one of the worst offenders. With this stupid tournament already having claimed one life, she wasn't going to take any chances.

"I'm _fine._ " Harry repeated in a tone that clearly told her to back off. Insistent people made him angry and he'd never liked doctors. the Sun being up wasn't helping either.

Poppy swelled with indignation but settled for casting a few diagnostic charms, which gave her Potter's usual odd readings paired with perfect health. She deflated slightly upon seeing that he was indeed fine and stomped back into the medical tent.

"Hag." Harry grumbled. He was probably being unfair, but it was hard to give a toss when Pomfrey was so good at getting on his nerves. Would it kill the woman to try being less bossy?

He was distracted from his thoughts when Fleur walked out of the medical tent, looking as irritated as he'd felt.

"She get on your nerves too?" He asked, amused at having it happen to someone else.

" _Oui._ "

An awkward silence followed as they both realized that Krum should have been scowling right alongside them. Neither of them had been close to the taciturn Bulgarian, hadn't even had a conversation with him in fact, but it felt strange to have shared the champion's tent with him just a short while ago and now realizing that they would be finishing this tournament without him.

They didn't really have time to dwell on it though, as friends and family descended on them soon after.

Harry saw Fleur getting almost tackled into a hug by a miniature clone of her that couldn't be described as anything short of adorable. A younger sister no doubt.

A dark haired man and an older blonde woman followed at a more sedate pace. Well, _older_ in the sense of her being older than Fleur, as she was still utterly gorgeous and could have easily passed for a big sister. They started chattering to each other in rapid French and Harry turned away, not wanting to be caught ogling Fleur's mother.

His own entourage wasn't far behind, though the running hug he received from Sirius was considerably more embarrassing than the one Fleur got from her sister.

"Sirius, get off." Harry grumbled at his overly affectionate godfather.

Sirius let him go, but continued grinning unrepentantly.

"Nice going there, Harry. You handled that dragon like a pro."

"I know, feeding it drugged food is a professional dragon handler's tactic." Harry replied drolly. Though the sleeping potion he'd given it was a far bit more powerful than what normally got used. They might have some trouble waking that Horntail up, but better safe than sorry.

Sirius barked out a laugh while Tonks and Penny came up to him and offered their own congratulations.

There was some awkwardness to that meeting and it occured to Harry that he and Dora had never actually been seen together in the magical world. They hadn't _deliberately_ been keeping their relationship secret, but secret it was. Even the rumors spawned from their first meeting in the DMLE hadn't really amounted to anything, the aurors aware of it having simply assumed that it was just him making an unsuccessful pass at her.

This unexpected conundrum left Harry unsure of how he should act. Should he kiss her? Hug her? Pretend they weren't together?

Many things could be said about Sirius' intelligence, quite a few of them uncomplimentary, but he had a keen sense for a bro in need of a distraction and he was happy to provide one.

"Harry, meet my lovely paramour, Adrastia Zabini. Adrastia, my godson, Harry Potter." He introduced.

Harry was glad of the distraction and exchanged plesantries with the woman. He had to admit that Sirius had really hit the jackpot with this one, as she was incredibly beautiful. Not in the same way that a veela was beautiful, but certainly no less though Harry might be a bit biased given that she was just about the perfect age to trigger his 'hot older woman' fetish.

The name surprised him a bit though, as he was aware of a Slytherin fourth year by the name of Blaise Zabini, a guy who he didn't think had spoken a single word in his presence. They had to be related given their similar coloring. His gut told him that she was dangerous and her presence had the ruthless edge of a killer. This was a woman to be wary of. He was going to have to talk to Sirius about his choice of companionship.

That belief was only excerbated when he shook her hand. He felt her magic creep over his own in a way that was disturbingly familiar, a gentle caress meant to calm and entice. Contrary to its purpose, he was put even further on edge and his grip tightened instinctively, sending his own magic to press against hers in warning. Zabini's eyes widened minutely in surprised alarm before settling into a dangerouly calculating smile. Yes, he would definitely need to talk to Sirius about this woman. And he would probably need to talk to her as well, privately.

"Excuse me for a bit, I see Luna over there." He said and walked off.

"I'll go with you, I want to ask her something too." Tonks chimed in, seeing an opportunity to give Harry a heads up on the Sirius situation.

She leaned over to him as soon as they were out of hearing range of the others. "We need to talk. That woman with Sirius..."

"Is dangerous, I know." He finished softly.

Tonks was happy to hear that he'd picked up on that even if she didn't know how. "Over the mirrors tonight?"

"Yeah." He nodded.

"Congratulations, Harry." Luna congratulated once they reached her. "I'm glad that the potion worked."

"Me too." Harry quipped. He had contingency plans, but they were considerably more risky.

"Oh, here come the nargles." The blonde girl said absently, staring over Harry's shoulder.

"What?" Tonks asked in confusion.

Harry merely turned around and sighed in irritation. "What do you want, Skeeter?"

The reporter was even more of a visual offense than usual today, wearing acid green robes that almost managed to camoflage the Quick-Quotes Quill she was holding.

"Just a small statement about your thoughts on the first task." The reporter said with a ghastly smile. Harry could already imagine her thinking of all the ways she could twist his words around to make him seem like some kind of monster that was delighted by Krum's death.

"No comment." He said firmly.

"The public wants to know, Harry." Skeeter uttered the hated warcry of reporters.

Harry was tempted to tell her that the public could lick his ass while he was busy taking a dump, but knowing Skeeter she would probably be delighted if he did so.

"No. Comment." He said instead. It wasn't as satisfying as insulting her, but stonewalling the woman had its own charm.

"Perhaps one of your friends has something to say then?" The reported attempted, turning to the Metamorphmagus. "I wasn't aware that you had more than a passing aquaintance with Harry, Auror Tonks."

"His godfather is my favorite cousin, of course we know each other." Tonks shot back snidely, knowing exactly what Skeeter was like. She hadn't forgotten the article that the woman had written that insinuated she's only managed to become an auror at her age by abusing her Metamorphmagus ability.

"Hmph." Skeeter huffed and finally turned to Luna as a last resort. "How about a word from the daughter of the late owner of the _Quibbler_ then?"

Harry and Tonks' faces tightened with fury, but Luna only blinked at the woman slowly with her big blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I can't hear you over the buzzing of your nargles. You should get that looked at."

Skeeter's lips tightened with irritation and she huffed again, walking away with a angry, jerky gait.

"Bitch." Tonks muttered.

Harry noticed that Skeeter was heading for the Delacour family, no doubt intending to ruin the day for them as much as possible. It was convenient that he already had a curse ready her. It was simpler than the Itching Curse, but a great deal more painful and obvious to the people around her. Skeeter deserved it for what she'd said to Luna.

"Watch this." He said and cast the spell.

Skeeter suddenly shrieked with agony, dropped her quill and parchment and desperately grabbed at her breasts.

Then she turned around and pointed a finger right at Harry. "Potter! You cursed me!"

"What are you on about, you hag?" Tonks demanded. "Nobody saw any spells coming at you and Harry doesn't even have his wand out! Stop causing a scene."

"She'll do anything for a story." One random old man there said, shaking his head in disgust. "Back in my day, the _Daily Prophet_ used to have some integrity."

The furius and humiliated reporter stomped away.

"What did you do?" Tonks asked, barely holding back her wide smile.

"Texas Titty Twister; Magic Edition."

Tonks snickered. "Why Texas though?"

"Hell if I know." Harry shrugged. "Probably because it starts with a 'T' or something."

He looked towards the Delacours again and saw Fleur looking towards him speculatively. Catching his eye, she jerked her head in the direction of Skeeter's exit in an obvious 'did you do that?' gesture.

Harry gave her a surreptitious wink.

XXXXX

 _That night._

"So Sirius is dating a woman that is probably intending to kill him." Harry said with a sigh. "I should be surprised, but I'm really not."

"I don't think he knows about her reputation, what with the time he'd spent in Azkaban and all. It's not exactly something that you'd find on the front page of the _Prophet_ or anything, but word gets around in certain circles, like the DMLE for example." Tonks replied with a frown.

"I'll have Sirius bring her over to the manor in a few days." Harry said with a frown of his own.

"Why?" Tonks asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry hesitated, not sure what to say. If his suspicions were correct then this was definitely not something he wanted Dora to know. Certainly not before he could put some serious thought into it.

"You know something." Tonks stated, noticing his hesitation.

"Just a hunch." He evaded.

"It's something to do with one of your secrets, doesn't it?" She asked, voice carefully light.

Harry averted his eyes. Dora hadn't pushed him too much about his secrets even though she clearly wanted to know them. There were no snide remarks or unsubtle hints, but he could tell that she was a bit stung that he didn't trust her to keep it to herself.

He wished he could tell her everything, but the fact remained that a lot of those secrets were illegal and she was law enforcement. If he told her then he would never be able to take it back and he was not sure what she would do with some of that information. The consequences of hasty or poorly thought out decisions had already slapped him in the face too many times to do it again.

"Yeah." He finally said lamely.

"Harry, this is Sirius' life we're talking about." Tonks said neutrally.

"I know." Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair in minor frustration. "I'll have him bring her over to Potter Manor for dinner or something and see what I can do."

"I want to be there." Tonks asserted quickly.

"There's no need, I doubt she'd do anything overt, not with all the suspicion hanging around her already."

"Harry, I am not letting you be alone in a room with a suspected murderer." She said flatly.

"Dora, you're an _auror._ She'll clam up if you're there." Harry reasoned. It was probably true even, but he also didn't want her there because he had no idea what would be said and he'd prefer not to have that conversation in the presence of his girlfriend.

To his surprise, she didn't try to argue the point further but merely sighed. "I'm not an idiot, Harry, I can see that you don't want me there for your own reasons. I haven't pushed you to tell me everything, but I'm getting pretty damn worried about what you're hiding if you're trying to keep it secret even now."

Harry had no response. What was there to say?

This, he reflected, was the downside of having a relationship. His previous experiences with Zoe, Bryanna and Tiana had misled him into believing that having a steady girlfriend was a simple affair. He hadn't been under the unseen obligation to trust and confide in any of those three the way he now was with Dora.

The Metamorphmagus was fun and Harry liked her a great deal, but he knew that their relationship hadn't progressed much mostly because of him. He didn't let her see his workshop, didn't tell her how he was getting out of Hogwarts to visit her, didn't trust her to keep his more dangerous secrets to herself. How could they possibly get closer when he was so obviously keeping a distance? It was a small miracle that she was as cool about it as she was.

XXXXX

That conversation ended without any proper resolution and Harry spent the next day plagued by a nebulous feeling of low-key guilt. He knew that Dora was just worried about him and Sirius and trying to help, but the situation conspired to put him in the position of having to exclude her because he was certain that his own forays into illegal magic would come up.

Harry's personality leaned towards pragmatism, but he wasn't nearly cold enough to be capable of brushing aside his girlfriend's hurt feelings which he knew was his own doing. So, guilt.

Still, he trudged through the day with little sign of his internal conflict. He visited a seventh year Transfiguration class, a sixth year DADA class, had an Ancient Runes tutoring session with Professor Babbling and talked to Sirius to arrange for Adrastia Zabini to have dinner over at Potter Manor.

Nobody noticed his minor preoccupation until it was time for the evening training session with Luna.

"What's wrong, Harry?" She asked twenty minutes in, not really sounding interested though he knew she was.

Harry sighed, wondering how he should put this. He had no compunction about telling Luna about it because he knew that she wouldn't judge him for it. In fact, he suspected that he could ask her to help him plan how to murder Malfoy and receive only serene agreement.

"I'm in a bit of a... _situation_ with Dora." He finally said. "I'm having to push her away to deal with a problem and I can see that it's hurting her, but I don't really have a choice."

"That does sound unfortunate." Luna agreed. She knew that Nymphadora would hate being sidelined, being the sort to like being involved. She had no advice to offer though, especially with how vague Harry was being.

"Yeah." Harry replied with a humorless chuckle.

"Would you like to work on the egg riddle instead of training then?" Luna offered. There was little point in training if Harry wasn't focused.

Harry scowled at the mention of the egg. "I tried listening to it once already, damn near made my ears bleed."

"I'd like to hear it too."

Shrugging, Harry agreed. If nothing else, Luna's reaction to the horrible screeching should be interesting.

A few minutes later they were back in his private quarters and opening the egg.

As Harry had guessed, Luna's reaction was interesting.

"That's Mermish." She stated with authority.

"What?" Harry said blankly.

"The language of the Merpeople." Luna elaborated.

"No, I got that." Harry quickly waved off. "It's just...what? _That's_ a language?"

"Well it isn't supposed to be spoken above water."

"How could you possibly know that?!" Harry demanded incredulously.

"They came by a few times while I was visiting Mr. Tentacles."

"...Who?"

"The giant squid, Harry. I talk to him sometimes."

Harry palmed his face for a moment, not sure if he should be amused or what. "Alright, so the Merpeople in the lake came to talk to you?"

"Yes. Speaking of which, I'm going to need you to teach me the Bubblehead Charm. It really is quite difficult to hold a conversation with someone if you have to keep coming up for air."

Harry really should not have been surprised by that, but he was. Admittedly it was more at the fact that he hadn't known about Luna's little hobby than at the strangeness of it, but the fact remained that he was surprised.

"Wait a minute, when do you have time to do this? You're either in classes or with me."

"I have trouble sleeping sometimes while you're off visiting Nymphadora, so I borrow your Invisibility Cloak and go talk to Mr. Tentacles. He's a very good listener."

 _Why am I feeling guilty about this too?_ Harry wondered. Being a responsible adult was such a chore, especially when you were only fourteen.

"You shouldn't feel bad, Harry." Luna soothed, apparently seeing right through him. "I know that Nymphadora likes your penis too much for me to keep you all to myself. If I hadn't promised daddy to not let any boys put their penis in me until I was sixteen, I would want to play with it too."

Harry _had_ been about to ask how she managed to get past the locked front gate, but that last sentence derailed him quite nicely. "What?"

"You have a very nice penis, Harry." Luna explained matter-of-factly.

"Thanks?" He replied numbly for the sheer lack of any other response. "But I thought..."

"That I wasn't interested in sex?" She asked breezily. "I wouldn't have wanted to watch you having sex with Nymphadora so much if I wasn't. You're being quite silly, girls don't go through puberty any later than boys, a bit sooner actually."

Harry finally shut his mouth and privately admitted to himself that his own accelerated development may have caused him to look at Luna as if she was much younger than him even though the actual age difference was only about four and a half months . She was plenty old enough to have started developing an interest in sex and her particular lack of shyness or societal taboos meant that she had no trouble admitting it to herself. Or anyone else apparently.

"So you...err?" He said awkwardly and vaguely, not really sure what he was trying to say. He'd been thrown so far off balance that he was practically horizontal.

"Yes, I'm planning to ease Nymphadora into the idea of a threeway relationship with you." Luna nodded as if he'd actually asked a sensible question. "I expect it will take me a while since she's less adventurous than I thought a Metamorphmagus would be, but at least I don't have to break her of any pesky homophobia."

Harry had some trouble with the sudden mental shift as his best friend went from 'sexually oblivious' to 'planning out a harem'. It was quite a leap.

So he performed a tactical retreat and changed the subject. "You said this screeching is Mermish?"

"Yes, no doubt we'll be able to understand it under water." Luna said with a smile, looking forward to bathing with Harry again. Daddy really had been quite the meanie when he made her promise to not let anyone put their penis inside her until she was sixteen, but a promise was a promise. Oh well, at least she had plenty of time to set things up the way she wanted them.

XXXXX

The dinner appointment with Sirius' homicidal girlfriend came a bare few days later. Teeny and Kreacher had both been varying levels of excited to cook for a guest so the meal was excellent, even if only three people would eat it since Penny had excused herself in favor of going on a date on the mundane side of things.

Harry honestly felt a bit underdressed in comparison to Adrastia, who was wearing a decidedly untraditional(for Britain at least, he didn't know about other places) shimmering amethyst dress with a plunging neckline and strategically placed slits that showed off her long, smooth legs. There had to be some magic involved as he was pretty sure that her breasts were defying the laws of physics.

Fortunately, it was his house and he wasn't trying to impress anyone.

He went along with the charade and made polite conversation that had nothing to do with her likely plans to murder his godfather.

This lasted about up to the time that Sirius got started on one of his many stories about what awesome prank they had pulled in Hogwarts.

"...so James is just standing there, holding a jar of catnip and a dozen pair of panties stitched together into a makeshift bed with McGonnagal glaring while he tries to explain that it was meant for Filch's cat and not her. Then Lily comes down and-"

" _Stupefy!_ " Harry didn't usually bother with incantations anymore, but that felt distinctly satisfying.

"Interesting method of shutting him up." Adrastia commented placidly, looking at the unconscious Lord Black. "I usually just sleep with him when he gets nostalgic."

"And I'm sure he prefers that to a Stunning Spell, but I needed to talk to you alone and he would have gone on for hours." Harry answered.

Adrastia leaned back into her armchair and switched over how her legs were crossed. "And what will you do now that you have me all to yourself?"

 _You poor bastard, you never stood a chance._ Harry thought as he saw the display. This woman had seduction down to an art form. Even knowing what he knew, Harry still wanted to plow her until she was bowlegged just from that little bit and the sensual insinuation in her tone.

"Kreacher!" He called firmly.

"What does Master want?" The crabby house elf asked, being polite in the presence of a guest as he'd been ordered.

"Take Sirius up to his room, then grab some permanent marker and doodle something rude on his face."

"Kreacher will be happy to." The house elf said gleefully.

He popped away with the unconscious man and left the two of them alone.

"I suppose there's no point in beating around the bush." Harry said with a frown. "What did you do to Sirius?"

"What makes you think I did anything to him?" Adrastia asked back.

Harry got the sense that she wasn't trying to deny anything, but was simply drawing things out. Fine then. if that was how she wanted to play it, then he would go along with it for now.

"Sirius has a crippling fear of commitment." He said bluntly. "He'd never act this besotted with anyone, no matter how beautiful."

"True." Adrastia agreed with a small dip of her head. "It took me longer than expected to overcome that issue."

"And how did you _overcome_ it?" He asked with narrowed eyes.

"Come now, Harry." She said with a laugh, gracefully rising from her seat. "You already know what I did."

"I have my suspicions." He replied, rising as well since he didn't feel comfortable sitting while this dangerous woman was on her feet.

"So modest." She mocked and stepped closer.

Harry tensed but didn't stop her. He didn't feel any immediate threat and she didn't even have her wand on her. Nothing he'd seen so far of Adrastia Zabini indicated that she was a direct combatant, but he was still ready to react with violence at a moment's notice.

She stopped directly in front of him and ran her hands over his chest in a strangely lewd but also gentle manner. Her magic slid along his own but found no purchase.

"So tense and closed off you are." Adrastia murmured, staring up into his green eyes with the deep dark pools of her own. "Wizards and witches differ fundamentally from muggles in many ways, few of them obvious. During intimacy, in the moment of climax, our souls become open to our partner. A practicioner of Sex Magic may use their own soul to... _draw_ on their partner and bring to the fore that which they desire."

"And that's what you did to Sirius?" Harry asked tensely, gently removing her hands from his chest.

"Deep inside him lay a core of emptiness that he seeks to fill with women and humor. It was easy to exploit once I reached past his armor." She shrugged and started pacing the room.

"And what were you going to do to him after you got what you wanted?" He pressed insistently.

"A question I had devoted considerable time to." She replied, actually seeming amused. "I was at a loss until I saw you. The pictures in the paper truly do not do you justice, Harry. You are a magnificent wizard."

Harry simply continued to stare at her until it became clear that he was not going to respond to that.

"I thought to myself, 'would it not be perfect if Sirius Black went mad with jealousy and attacked his famous godson only to die in the attempt?', so I planned to seduce you both and pit you against each other. Once you had killed your godfather, I would have married you and driven you to commit suicide out of guilt before frittering away your family's fortune and moving on to someone else."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Harry had only one thing to say to that. "You're a real piece of work."

"Thank you." She smiled as if paid a great compliment.

"But you are refreshingly honest." He allowed. It was certainly more straightforward than dealing with Dumbledore or any number of Ministry stooges.

"There is little point in subterfuge now." Adrastia shrugged. "I hadn't expected you to be self-aware enough to detect what I was doing. Even wizards of above average strength are usually blind. My plans were abandoned in that very moment."

"Really?" Harry asked skeptically.

"I make it a point to avoid wizards such as yourself." She elaborated. "You are simply too powerful and promise to become stronger still. You would have thwarted me at every turn and would have taken vengeance against me even if I had succeeded in killing Sirius."

"So you're backing off because it's too risky?" Harry asked further, more than a little suprised by that. It was strangely...reasonable, especially coming from what was obviously an unrepentant serial killer.

"Of course." She said, looking at him as if he was the one that had just said something strange. "Surely you must have noticed by now that the more powerful a wizard is, the fewer laws apply to them? Given how powerful you are at your young age, you will likely have people taking your words as if they were orders in a decade or two. I do not want to be your enemy."

"And you'll just leave like nothing happened? After planning to kill my godfather and me?" Harry was understandably somewhat incredulous. _The balls on this woman..._

"Why not? It's not as if I've done you any real harm." Adrastia said indifferently. "Sirius will likely mope for a while since I've had enough time to make him deeply infatuated with me, but he should otherwise be fine."

"Yes, about that..." Harry said slowly.

"Ah, you want to know more for the sake of that cute auror girlfriend of yours?" Adrastia guessed, smiling wryly. "Perhaps we are not so different after all?"

"That's _not_ why I'm asking!" He ground out, angered by the implication.

"But you _are_ asking." She pointed out, still smiling.

"I've been using Sex Magic to enhance pleasure." He explained tersely. "Could I have unintentionally been influencing her the way you did Sirius?"

"Undoubtedly." Was the immediate reply, making his heart sink. "People are complex creatures with many impulses. By touching her so deeply when she was completely open to you, your hopes and desires would have seeped into her. I could not say how much effect you have had as you were clearly not doing it on purpose, but she would at the very least have been less likely to go against your wishes."

"Wonderful." Harry said flatly and sat back down. That was exactly what he'd been afraid of. His entire relationship with Dora was potentially built on his unintentional manipulation. Fucking hell, even Bryana and Tiana could have been so agreeable because of this, since he'd been doing it to them for at least half a year.

"It is largely the reason that Sex Magic was declared a Dark Art." Adrastia sat down as well, rather amused by the the young wizards obvious consternation, though she personally didn't see what he was upset about. "It is an application of Soul Magic, perhaps one of the first true magics, and can like all magic be put to both great and terrible purpose. Veela and their succubi foremothers have often used the technique in the past to turn wizards, and some witches, into lovesick followers. These days they use it merely to ensure that their chosen mates never want to leave them. The fact that veela do not hold a monopoly on Sex Magic has been conveniently forgotten by most."

Harry had read about that, but the book had, as his interlocutor had said, claimed that only veela could do it because of their Allure. Then again, that book had been written by an obviously prejudiced author so he shouldn't be surprised that the information wasn't 100% correct. He was starting to really hate hindsight.

"What about that thing you tried with me at the first task? Non-sexual, errr, mingling."

"The proper term for it is 'The Joining' and it is the same thing as if you did it during sex, merely less effective." Adrastia chuckled. "Under most circumstances, the effect would be negligible even if done by a master of the art because a guarded soul cannot be influenced. It _is_ however possible to slightly strengthen impulses that are already present. Men's lust for me has always been a convenient opening for example."

Harry thought back to the many moments when he had shared his lust with Dora when he kissed her or wrapped his magic around Luna in a fascimile of a hug when she slept with him. Exactly how much had he influenced them over time? "Fuck."

"Sirius did tell me that you had a bad habit of playing with things you didn't fully understand." Adrastia commented lightly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

Harry froze and pinned her with a hostile stare. "What _exactly_ did Sirius tell you?"

"A little of this, a little of that. I was quite curious as to how a fourteen year old could have perceived my actions." She said, smirking openly now and staring pointedly into the center of his forehead, where _Aul'El_ was carved. "Carving runes into your flesh? Tsk, tsk, Harry, such a ghastly practice."

Harry ground his teeth together and thought furiously. This very dangerous woman now knew some very dangerous things. Things that he couldn't afford to have becoming known publically. This was no longer a simple matter of bailing Sirius out of hot water, he couldn't let her walk out of here with that knowledge.

He had to get rid of her quickly, but without leaving enough traces for any investigation into her disappearance to point at foul play. That meant no magic in the killing itself and then a Vanishing Spell on the corpse once she was dead. There was nothing suspicious about Vanishing Spells and everyone knew that they didn't work on living people, too much mental interference to send someone to the Void like that. Nobody would be able to prove anything with that.

He couldn't leave any blood either. _I could strangle her._ He thought, eyeballing her slender neck and thin arms. _She wouldn't be able to fight me off and her wand is stashed in her purse._ No suspicious magical traces meant that the DMLE would be useless even if they had cause to suspect him. There was no way to detect a mundane killing with magic in the same way that a pathologist would be baffled if presented with the body of someone hit by a Killing Curse.

"You need to work on your expression, Harry." Adrastia commented idly. "I can see the murder in your eyes."

Harry took a deep breath to calm down, sending a silent curse towards the Void. It was always goading him to feed it. Not so much during the day(he had a different set of problems then), but the Sun had gone down quite a while ago.

He was still left with the problem of what to do with this woman though. But...she was strangely calm for someone that knew she was in danger of being killed for the secrets she held.

"Why did you tell me that?" He asked, frowning. "You could have walked out of here with me being none the wiser."

"To even the playing field, so to speak." Adrastia explained. "You know that I kill my husbands and how and now you know that I know that you've dabbled in illegal magic and are keeping your Animagus form secret."

Harry clenched his jaw again. Of course she'd know that too. For all he knew, she might know about the Horcrux locket as well.

"However, neither one of us can easily prove any of this to the authorities." She went on, ignoring his look. "I could accuse you and you could accuse me and we would both deny it to the ends of the Earth with no amount of investigation being able to prove anything and both of us have enough gold to make the necessary bribes even if they did. Unless of course you were to kill me, in which case I have already arranged for the information to be sent to the _Prophet_ and the DMLE, with a note attached saying that I have cause to suspect that you will kill me for knowing this."

"How clever of you." Harry snarked, reluctantly impressed.

"Thank you." She accepted gracefully. "Out of curiousity, how were you intending to kill me?"

Well, since they were being honest... "Strangulation."

"Ooh, kinky." She teased, apparently not at all bothered by the topic of her near murder.

"Was there a point to all this, or do you just like playing dangerous games?"

"Yes and yes. The point is that we now both know some very ticklish things about each other, so it would behoove us to play nice. I may one day need the help of a wizard such as you and you may need the help of a witch such as me. Nothing too... _strenuous_ of course, at least not until we get more comfortable with each other, but one never knows when they might need some specialized help."

Harry shook his head in disbelief at her audacity. "A giant would go green with envy at the size of the balls on you. You start off planning to kill me and Sirius and now you want an alliance?"

"You were planning to kill me not five minutes ago, so I'd say we're even on that score." She sniffed.

Harry snorted, amused in spite of himself. Her logic was horribly flawed, but it was still funny.

"What did you have in mind?" He asked grudgingly after a moment. There was no harm in hearing her out at least. He could always refuse.

"For starters, Sirius mentioned that you are a man of many interests and many skills." She would certainly not call him a boy despite his age. No killer was ever a boy and he was definitely a killer. "You dabble with spell creation, curse breaking, enchanting and whatever else catches your fancy. I have in my possession several cursed items that could be sold for a great deal of money once those curses were removed and you could remove them without the costs associated with hiring a professional curse-breaker. This is just one example of what you could do for me."

"And what's in it for me?" Harry asked. He would not be opposed to doing something like that. He'd learned a great deal from deconstructing the varius enchanted and cursed objects in Grimmauld Place.

"Sirius also mentioned that you intend to travel the world once this tournament is over. I have residences scattered all over Europe, fully furnished and empty. You could use them at your leisure." Adrastia offered.

"Leftovers from your past conquests?" Harry asked dryly.

"What else?" She shrugged shamelessly. "I certainly don't need that many homes."

"Charming."

The Black Widow ignored his sarcasm and went on with a smouldering invitation in her eyes. "Alternatively, I wouldn't be opposed to giving you a more in depth lesson on the uses of Sex Magic, as you are clearly still a novice. That would be a treat for me as well admittedly. I've never had the opportunity to sleep with someone that could reciprocate and I am curious to see what it would be like. Being self-aware as you are, The Joining would not affect you as it does the sheep of the world and there is no telling what new things we may discover."

"I've got a girlfriend." He reminded her. That offer was so very tempting on multiple levels, but he didn't trust her the slightest bit.

"You could bring her too." She said with a wicked grin. "I've never had a Metamorphmagus either, they're terribly rare. That would be one pet I might actually keep."

"She is _not_ a pet." Harry growled through clenched teeth.

"As you say." Adrastia returned with a smirk.

Harry knew that she was lancing at his worries on purpose. For someone that was cautious enough to abandon a plan as quickly as she had, she had a surprisingly dangerous sense of humor.

"How did you even get this way?" He asked suddenly. "What drives a woman to go around finding husbands to murder?"

The smirk dropped off her face and she leaned back into the armchair, looking at him thoughtfully for a few seconds and grabbed her empty glass. "I am going to need more wine if you want me to share my life story."

Harry shrugged and used wandless magic to levitate the bottle towards her, figuring that she knew about that too.

Going by her lack of surprise, she did.

Only after the bottle was done pouring and she took a sip did she speak again, though not about what he'd asked. "I didn't get to say this before with Sirius reminiscing, but this is very good wine."

"Laid down seventy years ago by my grandfather apparently." Harry went along with the small talk.

"And you opened it just for me? I'm flattered."

"Don't be, I have no appreciation for wine and no idea what's so special about it."

"How uncultured of you, perhaps I could teach you that as well. A man of your station is not well served being ignorant in these matters."

Harry shrugged again.

Adrastia kept on drinking silently for a few minutes and only spoke again once half the wine in her glass was gone.

"I was beautiful even as a child and people noticed. One of my father's prospective business partners to be precise. He was forty years older than me and a pig besides, but my father was an ambitious man and sold me to him in marriage. I was sixteen."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Harry meant it too. Whatever else, she hadn't deserved that.

Adrastia waved the sentiment off and continued. "He wasn't abusive, not physically at least, but he was a pig as I said. I was a different woman then, a timid little weakling that sought any escape. There was none to be found though, so I escaped into myself and eventually became aware enough of my magic to influence him. Over the next two years, I preyed on his appreciation of my beauty and reduced him from an arrogant and self-important lordling into a snivelling wreck desperate for my approval. He would buy me expensive gifts and I would turn my nose up at them solely for the pleasure of seeing his face fall as he realized that his best wasn't good enough. The sight of him groveling for scraps of attention was ambrosia, but eventually I tired of yanking his leash and incited him to attack my father. They killed each other like the tools they were and I have been repeating the experience ever since."

"Huh, that's actually a bit more straightforward than I was expecting." Harry commented, scratching at his chin thoughtfully. The guy got what he deserved in his opinion, but it showcased a truly incredible level of viciousness in the woman before him. "What about your son though? Blaise?"

"The unfortunate spawn of my first husband before I learned to control him." Adrastia said dismissively.

"Not the motherly sort I take it?" Harry asked wryly.

"I didn't dispose of him as I did with the other ugly reminders of the past. That is all the parental affection I have to spare."

"Heh, now I almost feel sorry for the bastard." Harry chuckled.

Adrastia raised an eyebrow, prompting him to elaborate.

"My real parents are dead, the relatives that Dumbledore stuck me with were abusive, the orphanage _they_ stuck me in was run by an overly religious old cunt with certain views on magic and the couple that took me in are about as good at parental affection as you. I have more in common with your son than I thought." He explained, pouring himself some of the wine too.

"Thinking about befriending him?" She asked. Perhaps she might have to arrange an accident for Blaise after all. Harry was far too interesting for his attention to be wasted on that bit of runaway sperm.

"Hell no. I'm not the type to go out of my way to make friends." Harry snorted and raised his wine glass towards her in a sarcastic toast. "To shitty parents and/or legal guardians."

Adrastia smiled widely in amusement and echoed the toast despite taking some splash damage from it. She had needled him about his girlfriend earlier so it was only fair.

XXXXX

The next morning, some time before dawn, Harry was still at Potter Manor, having breakfast in the dark and waiting for people to wake up.

Penny had gotten used to being the first one up and was badly startled when she walked into the dining room to see a pair of green eyes gleaming at her from the darkness.

"Harry! You startled me." She said, holding a hand to her chest and calming down her breathing.

"Sorry about that." He said, placidly chewing on a bit of toast with jam.

"Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?" She asked.

"I should, but I had to save Sirius from becoming the latest victim of the Black Widow."

"You mean that was actually true?" Penny asked in surprise. Tonks had told her the rumors about Adrastia Zabini, but she had been skeptical. It seemed a bit strange for someone to get away with doing that and Adrastia had seemed pleasant enough.

"Oh yes, but I'll tell you the rest when Sirius and Dora get here. Why don't you bring me up to speed on things in the meantime?"

"Alright, what would you like to know?" Penny agreed with a shrug and sat down at the table herself.

"Any interesting mail?"

"Not really, but you did get some pretty funny hate mail for the way you handled the dragon."

"Hate mail?" Harry's eyebrows shot up.

"Yep." Penny was amused. "They seemed to think you insulted them personally by not making a spectacle of the event and I quote 'giving them their money's worth'."

Harry's eye twitched. Seriously? "Are you sure the laws don't let me send a return letter with a nasty curse attached?"

"Quite. You could probably get away with it given the way the law works in magical Britain, but it would damage your reputation." Penny advised.

"Right, and we can't have that." He muttered. "Anything else?"

"You got a business proposition wrapped in a betrothal offer from Spain." Penny said with a frown. " A ' Leandro Montesano of the Montesano line of horse breeders' as he introduced himself wants to enter into a partnership with you in order to set up a pegasus ranch in Britain and is offering his oldest daughter to you in marriage as a show of his sincerity."

"I get the feeling you didn't much like him." Harry commented.

"I didn't." Penny confirmed with a small scowl. "The man talks about his daughter the same way he talks about his horses and he comes off as generally slimy as a Malfoy."

"No doubt some ambitious twat hoping to weasel their way into the nobility." Harry rolled his eyes.

"That was my guess too given the way he was extolling the virtues of his daughter as if she was a prize mare." She agreed.

"Were there pictures attached?" Harry asked.

Penny gave him a deadpan look of disapproval.

"What?" He asked innocently.

"Yes, there was a picture, but Sirius already stole it." She finally said.

"Bastard."

Penny decided to simply change the subject. "We've got a final tally on the sale of the basilisk, your share came in at just over a hundred thousand galleons."

Harry whistled. That was actually quite a bit higher than the initial estimates he'd been given. "I thought it was only supposed to be eighty thousand?"

"It was, but a group of collectors apparently _really_ wanted its skeleton. They got into a runaway bidding war and the winner ended up paying forty thousand for the whole thing." Penny explained.

"Well if they prefer bones over gold..." Harry grinned. "What about the girls and their store? How are they getting along?"

"Good, they've been building up stock and experimenting with new things. I try stuff out for them sometimes and I have to say that I'm impressed. Just last week, they finished working on a series of designer bras that look as good as anything you can get at Victoria's Secret but have a load of Cushioning Charms and other spells worked into them to make sure they offer perfect support without pinching or digging into the skin. I never want to live without one of them again." Penny said happily.

"That good?"

"Let's just say that taking my bra off isn't the best part of the day anymore."

"...I obviously can't relate, but it sounds significant."

"You have no idea."

"Things are looking good for them then?"

"Very good. The only real issue they've hit is that the goblins have a limited supply of British pounds to exchange for galleons, so buying in the non-magical world got a bit problematic for a while."

"Right, of course." Harry sighed. It made sense, the goblins only cared about precious metals, gems and shiny things. They only traded for paper money out of necessity and had no connection to the mundane banks. The intransigent little bastards were just one complication after another. "We'll have to find a way around that problem."

"I already have." Penny said smugly.

"Do tell." Harry prompted with interest.

"Just because the goblins in Britain ran out of normal money doesn't mean they're _all_ out. I had them bring over euros from the continent and exchanged that into pounds."

"I bet they hated that." Harry laughed.

"Of course they did." Penny shrugged. "They seem to hate everything."

"Any luck getting some of my money away from them?"

"Not yet." Penny frowned. "The owner of the last pawn shop I visited tried to convince me that the Black family silverware wasn't worth more than twenty pounds."

Harry snorted. How very stereotypical.

The ongoing effort to liberate his money from the greedy fingers of the goblins had hit a few snags, which was the reason that they were resorting to pawning various non-magical trinkets owned by the Blacks. Sirius also thought it was hilarious to sell his family's baubles to the very people they had hated so much and encouraged it enthusiastically.

The first snag was the goblin's outrageous fees if you tried to exchange more than a hundred galleons and now apparently also their smallish supply of regular money.

As a way around it, Harry thought of buying various goods that were common to both worlds with gold and selling it for pounds. It would be sold at a loss no doubt, but it would be worth it to have some money that wasn't in goblin control. That idea ran into the problem created by the secrecy of the magical world. With there being no paper or electronic trail for those goods, they couldn't do anything big or else draw the wrong kind of attention. Sooner rather than later, someone was going to notice that those goods were appearing out of thin air and if there was one thing that the government was diligent about, it was collecting taxes. This forced them to look at more 'under the table' types of deals which inevitably also carried the risk of getting ripped off.

Harry was still disgruntled over the fact that he had sold the whole basilisk in Europe. That had been the 'expert' advice of the wizard lawyer he'd gone to, the man's rationale being that dealing with multiple currencies would delay the sale even more and probably get him less value out of it. He hadn't known the full extent of the goblin monopoly then and didn't realize that the extra hassle would have been worth it.

"You should try eBay." He suggested. "There's bound to be some rich nut out there that wants tacky silver and emerald candlebras and snake themed forks bad enough that he'd be willing to pay through the nose for them."

"I guess..." Penny agreed reluctantly.

Harry just grinned. Penny's aversion to computers never failed to amuse him. It would have been normal to see it on a pureblood, but as she was the first person with a drop of magical blood in her family, it was simply hilarious.

"You don't have to sound so excited about it." He chuckled.

Penny huffed.

"So, how did your date go?" Harry asked to change the subject.

"Meh." She replied with a wishy-washy gesture.

"That bad?"

"He wasn't a bad guy or anything even if my parents did take it upon themselves to set me up with him, but I had to keep tip-toeing around the topic of magic all the time. It was exhausting."

"Don't I know it." Harry muttered, thinking of his own difficulties with explaining certain details to Zoe and the somewhat different situation with Dora. Secrets made a mess of any relationship. They also had a bad habit of breeding more secrets.

The two of them chatted about inconsequential things for the next hour, such as Malfoy and his continued string of humiliation. Penny tried to frown disapprovingly at that, but her smile kept getting in the way.

That was how Tonks found them when she walked in.

"Morning." She greeted and went to kiss Harry in greeting.

Harry returned the kiss, but couldn't help remembering the things he'd learned the other night. Fun times were ahead, he could already tell.

"So, what happened?" Tonks asked once she sat down.

"Hang on a second, let's bring Sirius down for this too. Kreacher!"

"Filthy halfblood master called?" Without guests, there was no need for politeness.

"Yes, could you wake Sirius up and tell him to get down there?"

"Kreacher can do that."

A few minutes later, Sirius was staggering into the dining room. His entire face was painted black with permanent marker.

 _Something tells me that Kreacher doesn't have a very good grasp of what 'doodle something rude on his face' means._ Harry thought over the sound of the two girls laughter.

"You stunned me and painted my face black!" Sirius accused, pointing a finger at Harry.

"No, I stunned you and had Kreacher paint your face black." Harry corrected.

"Why?" Sirius demanded.

"Because I needed to talk to Adrastia alone and you were in the middle of one of your long winded prank stories."

"You're on first name basis with her already?" Tonks asked archly.

"Considering what we talked about, formalities seemed a bit redundant." Harry explained.

"What did you talk about?" She pressed.

They were interrupted by a brief yelp as Sirius used a spell to remove the blackness from his face, coincidentally also removing the top layer of skin. He was just lucky that Kreacher had spared his facial hair.

"Well first of all..." Harry began, looking at his godfather. "Sirius, you've been dumped."

"Adrastia wouldn't dump me just like that!" Sirius protested.

"I thought you might say that, so I had her put it in writing. Here you go."

Sirius opened up the letter and read it out loud with a frown of consternation. "'Sirius, we're done. Be a dear and give my regards to Harry, will you? Goodbye.'"

"Damn, that is _cold_." Tonks commented with a snicker at the crestfallen look on her cousin's face. It was funnier now that he was no longer in danger.

"I can't believe she'd do this." Sirius said sulkilly, still staring at the letter in his hands.

"Stop moping, old man. She was going to kill you." Harry sighed.

"Those were just rumors, Adrastia isn't a killer." Sirius protested.

Harry snorted derisively. "She most definitely _is_ a killer. Her plan was to seduce you first, then move on to me, make you jealous enough to start a fight in which I killed you and finally drive me to commit suicide out of guilt followed by a massive spending spree with our family money."

"How in the world did you find that out?" Tonks asked, amazed.

"She admitted it to me." He shrugged.

That got him goggle-eyed looks from all three of them.

"Just like that?" Tonks asked in disbelief. Over a decade of murders and then she just up and admits it?

"I was able to sense what she was doing and she's canny enough to know when to abandon a plan." Harry explained.

"This is great!" Tonks exclaimed. "We might finally be able to arrest her."

"No you can't." Harry sighed.

"Why not?" His girlfriend demanded.

"Because I had to make a deal with her."

"You made a deal with a _serial killer_?" Tonks asked incredulously.

"She's actually not a bad person if you ignore that mile wide streak of emotional sadism she has going. Apparently she gets her jollies from turning people into stammering shadows of their former selves and humiliating them before finishing it all off with murder when she gets bored." Harry explained sarcastically.

"How is this not a good reason to arrest her?"

"Because you can't prove anything."

"We could if you helped!"

"In which case she'd make sure I went down with her since _someone"_ Harry glared at his godfather. "blabbed a lot of incriminating information to her."

"I was sure I could trust her." Sirius defended weakly. "Sorry, Harry."

"It's fine, you never really had a chance." Harry sighed.

"So we're supposed to just let a killer walk free?" Tonks demanded, carefully noting Harry's implicit hint that he was hiding certain illegalities as well and correctly guessing that this was the reason why he refused to tell her.

"It's not like it'll be a new thing." Harry retorted. "How many more Death Eaters besides Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Parkinson and Snape are currently free?"

Tonks grunted irritably but conceded the point. She didn't like the way he'd said it, but he wasn't wrong. Wizarding Britain was full of killers that had walked free. Zabini just happened to be international and still active.

"Fine, if we can't put her away, will you at least tell us how she got her hooks into Sirius?" She asked.

"I can't. Part of the deal was that we keep it all to ourselves." It wasn't, but the last thing he needed right now was to open the topic of Sex Magic and its potential for subtle subversion. Dora was anything but stupid and would probably make all sorts of inconvenient connections.

 _When did life get so complicated anyway?_ Harry wondered. _This is all Sirius' fault somehow, I just know it. Things were simple before he showed up._ Well not really. Sirius was a catalyst at best, but it was easy to blame him for it right now.

XXXXX

The fangirls were acting even stranger than usual today, Harry noticed as he made notes for potentially useful underwater spells. Given the message in the golden egg, the next task was almost guaranteed to take place in the Black Lake and have something to do with reclaiming a thing he would sorely miss from the Merpeople. Harry wasn't particularly sentimental and could think of very few things he would miss at all, much less 'sorely'.

Of course, there was the distinct possibility of it being some _one_ rather than some _thing_ that was to be taken from him, in which case he would be sorely tempted to commit multiple homicide on the organizers. Either way, he wasn't letting Luna out of his sight in the days leading up to the second task.

But back to the fangirls. As previously noted, they were acting weird. The practice of hiding(badly) behind the bookshelves and giggling was something he'd gotten used to, but they seemed to be in a furious debate of some sort today. Maybe they were going to make another clumsy seduction attempt and were deciding which one of them would do it? Harry wished he could just fuck them and get it over with. A few of them would probably get a life of their own afterwards and the others would at least stop being stalkers. Probably. Maybe. It could happen. They'd have their mouths busy some of the time at least.

Then the whispered debate/argument suddenly cut off and Harry raised his head to investigate the reason for this unlikely event. _Ah, that would do it._

"'Arry." Fleur said as she sat down at his table without an invitation.

"Fleur." Harry greeted back.

A few moments of pregnant silence passed.

"Can I help you with something?"

" _Oui._ I need a date."

Well that wasn't at all what he was expecting. "What for?"

Fleur blinked. "You do not know?"

"Know what?"

"About ze Yule Ball?"

"We're having a ball?"

" _Oui,_ eet eez tradition for ze hosting school to organize one and ze champions to open eet."

Harry hated parties on general principle and he hated _mandatory_ parties on a personal level. It was like someone coming up to him and telling him that he was obliged to go somewhere and have fun in an event that was patently _not_ fun. He had yet to hear of anything with tradition involved that was actually fun.

Unfortunately, it would probably be less bother to go along with it than mounting a rebellion against social norms. That was the inconvenient truth of these matters and probably the root cause for about 90% of the world's problems.

"And I suppose we're expected to have a date for this farce?" He sighed. He briefly wondered why Penny hadn't given him a heads up. Maybe she hadn't run across it or maybe it was another one of those things that nobody bothered to write down but everyone was expected to know. It would fit with the tradition angle. It also occurred to him that this must be the reason for the spirited debate among the fangirls earlier. He could just imagine them now, hiding behind the bookshelves, gnashing their teeth and glaring at Fleur.

" _Oui._ " Fleur said and looked at him expectantly.

Harry realized that she was waiting for him to ask her to be his date. Probably too proud to be the one asking but not proud enough to be above giving him hints so obvious it may as well be a flashing neon sign.

Going on a date with the beautiful French veela was hardly an unpleasant prospect, even if the substance of the date itself wasn't to his liking. And he couldn't exactly ask Dora to be his date for this thing since it was a school event.

Dora...he had no idea what he was going to do about her. She was displeased by the way the Black Widow situation had been resolved, mostly because she didn't really know _how_ it had been resolved since Harry was keeping all the details to himself. Still, she seemed to be willing to let it go and move on. The problem was that Harry was no longer certain of anything concerning their relationship. He had thought himself lucky(and admittedly more than a little badass) for managing to get a woman that much older than him and an auror to boot to stay interested in him. Now he had to wonder how much of that was a result of him pulling on her soul and unknowingly preying on her feelings of isolation and desire for companionship. He was not going to be another Adrastia Zabini, going around the world and reducing her targets into doormats to be walked over and cast aside when they stopped being amusing. Her jibe about Dora becoming a pet struck uncomfortably close to his worries.

"'Arry?"

Fleur's voice brought him out of the brood he'd dropped into. "Sorry, I got lost in thought."

"About ze ball...?" She prompted.

Right, the damned Yule Ball. Another bit of shite to wade through on the journey that was life.

"Why me?" He asked.

Fleur sighed in exasperation and muttered something French under her breath. Harry had the sense that she was annoyed that he wasn't playing along with the polite fiction that she had tried to establish about who was asking who on a date.

"You are ze best wizard 'ere." She said simply.

'And I want the best.' was the unspoken sentiment.

"I'm flattered." Harry drolled. "There is something I have to do before I can ask you to be my date though."

"And zat eez?"

"I have to ask Luna if she wants to go to this ball or not. If she does, I'll be taking her. If not, I can take you."

Fleur looked like she had just been slapped. Despite being a lot more humble than her outward veneer or the jealous rumors spread by other women might indicate, she was also well aware of her beauty and used to getting her way with men. Being relegated to the position of 'backup date option' was not something that she appreciated.

Still, she swallowed down her indignation and managed to reply civilly. She had known this was a possibility before she'd approached him. She didn't think the little blonde was his girlfriend based on the wording of his refusal, but it was best to be sure. "Are you wiz 'er zen?"

"No, she's just a friend." Harry replied, smiling awkwardly and trying not to contemplate Luna's professed plans for the future. He really had no idea how to deal with that.

"I zee." Fleur could respect that he was placing his friend above her. The two of them seemed to keep mostly to themselves so it was not likely that this Luna would be able to get a date if Harry did not take her and he did not even know that those below fourth year could only attend if they were someone's date. Paradoxically, being rejected out of loyalty to a friend only made Harry even more desirable. "I will have to find anuzzer to take me to the ball zen."

"I can still take you if Luna doesn't want to go, but I doubt that's going to happen." Harry said, smiling apologetically.

" _Merci_ , but I am no one's zecond choice." Fleur said, wrapping a cloak of proud dignity around herself to mask the disappointment she was really feeling. "But...I will zave a dance for you."

"I'll make sure to scrape the rust off my dancing skills then." He said wryly. He had been half his current size the last time he'd danced.

"You 'ad better, I do not want my feet stepped on." She joked back.

XXXXX

 _That same night._

"What do you want this time, Harry?" Penny asked with exasperation. It was late.

"A few pairs of swimming goggles and a dozen or so scarves." Harry stated.

"It's better than dead cows at least." Penny muttered.

XXXXX

 _Elsewhere in the world..._

Lucius Malfoy was annoyed. Why did Potter have to be so damned clever instead of dying like he was supposed to?

Lucius was of course aware of the fact that wishing his enemies to be incompetent wouldn't make them so, but the world would be so much better if the unwashed masses would just know their place instead of being uppity. Dealing with the likes of Fudge might be tiresome, but at least that bumbling idiot knew when to shut up and listen.

Well, no matter. Potter's handling of the dragon might have been embarrassingly simple and he had obviously known about the task in advance, but the second task would give him a lot more room to arrange something.

All he needed to do was find a competent assassin that wouldn't mind taking a cold swim in February and offing Potter for a few galleons.

XXXXX

Dolores Umbridge was annoyed. She had wholeheartedly supported Cornelius' idea of using a trio of Hungarian Horntails instead of the tamer breeds of dragon, but it had not been for the sake of fairness like the Minister. No, she had been hoping that the insolent Potter brat and the veela abomination would be killed.

The fact that the only champion of good breeding had died during the first task just went to show how little justice there was in the world.

Still, not everything was going wrong. She was almost finished with kicking out all the filth that Crouch had allowed to work in the DIMC and replacing them with proper purebloods. More importantly, the next task was to take place in the Hogwarts Black Lake, where anything at all could happen away from the eyes of the public.

All she needed to do was find the right sort of wizard that wouldn't mind taking a cold swim in February and taking out the trash for a few galleons.

XXXXX


	19. Chapter 19

**Be aware that I've (finally) noticed that the Fanfiction word editor seems to have the very strange habit of occasionally erasing a few words from a sentence. I thought for years that it was just me being careless with my fingers but I've finally determined that it is indeed the website trolling me. Please point any such things out if you notice them so that I can add the missing words.**

 **Beta cookies to Joe Lawyer.**

XXXXX

It had been a day like any other for the most part, but Luna just didn't feel right at the end of it.

It made no sense. She was in bed with Harry, he was holding her and his penis was pressed up against her bum. That was always right. Yet it wasn't. It made no sense.

It had been like this for a while now, but she had dismissed it at first as being caused by a stray wrackspurt. Except it clearly wasn't. Something had changed and not for the better. She wasn't doing anything different, so it had to be Harry.

"Harry, why did you change the way you hug me?" She asked.

"What?" He sounded confused. She supposed that was fair, he'd probably been thinking of something else.

"It used to be really nice and warm and safe and comfortable and now it isn't. It was better before. Why did you change it?" Luna knew that she sounded petulant, but she felt entitled to a bit of petulance right now. Why would anyone trade in good cuddles for less good ones? Harry was being stupid.

Harry sank into that broody silence that he had whenever he was in deep thought. How exciting. That probably meant it was a secret and Harry had the best secrets. Secrets like being an Animagus and that he had a Deathly Hallow! She wondered what this new secret was.

He exhaled heavily before speaking. "I guess I might as well tell you, I was thinking about it anyway. You're probably the only person in the world that won't freak out over it at least."

Harry was rambling. That meant he was nervous. Luna squirmed in his embrace and turned around so that she was facing him and stared at him expectantly.

She'd been right, it was a great secret. About Sex Magic and soul manipulation and all sorts of fascinating things.

"I'm really sorry." He apologized once he was done, sounding very regretful. "The book you gave me didn't mention any of this."

What a silly thing to be sorry for. "Why did you stop?"

"Huh?"

"Why did you stop doing The Joining? It felt good and I liked it. I want you to start doing it again."

"Luna, I don't want to brainwash you!" Harry protested and Luna had to remind herself that for all of his intelligence, he was still fully capable of being stupid.

"You're my best friend, Harry. I trust you. Now stop being silly and hold me properly." And with that she wiggled back into a spooning position and waited for The Joining, wondering if she could feel it now that she knew it was coming.

To her disappointment she couldn't, but Harry's arms felt like home again so it was alright.

XXXXX

Harry was sitting on his bed, pondering the nature of women.

What was it about the female species that caused them to take an eternity to get ready for an event? Luna had been in the bathroom for nearly an hour now. And that was _after_ the bath they had taken together. Harry had been ready to go for well over half of that time.

He had decided to be a bit cheeky with his choice of dress and disdained robes of any kind. Instead, he was wearing a distinctly mundane set of black pants, white shirt, black shoes and an open black jacket. He might not be willing to put up with the bother of blowing off the ball entirely, but he wasn't above poking the tradition minded organisers in the eye at a time when they couldn't say anything about it. Not without causing a scene at least, which would perhaps be even better.

Luna at last stepped out of the bathroom and Harry had to grin at the sight. She had an interesting fashion sense, that was for sure.

Her dress was nothing outrageous, a pale blue that showed off her developing figure without being crass and a pair of matching shoes.

That was where the adherence to normal procedure ended however.

She had on a pair of radish themed earrings whose color clashed horribly with the dress. Around her neck was a butterbeer cork necklace very similar to the one that she had once given him as a gift. And finally, her hair was done up in a bun and pinned into place with her wand, a sight that was sure to get people talking since most wizards and witches treated their wands with borderline reverence and not as hair ornaments.

"Looking good, Luna." He complimented, still grinning. She really was too, but her quirky accessories were hilarious.

"You too, Harry." She said back. "Those muggle clothes really bring out your bum."

"I'm glad you think so." Harry replied drolly and stood up, offering her his hand. "Shall we?"

She took his hand and they started making their way towards the Entrance Hall. Thanks to the out of the way location of Harry's quarters, they didn't run into anyone for the vast majority of the way there.

Their entrance attacted some attention, but actually not quite as much as he'd though it would since most people seemed too preoccupied to stare at them. Will wonders never cease and all that.

A gaggle of Slytherins came up from the dungeons, with Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson in the lead. Draco had a high collared dress robe that made Harry think of some strange mix between a priest and a vampire. Pansy was even worse in an excessively frilly pink dress. With her somewhat upturned nose, he just couldn't help but think of a fat pig ready to be slaughtered. It could just be the Void playing tricks on his mind again though. Maybe.

A unique presence of sunlight and fire shone through the melange of purely human auras as Fleur entered, looking fabulous in a dress of silver-grey satin. She was being accompanied by Roger Davies, a seventh year Ravenclaw that looked to be having a spot of trouble with her Allure.

"'Arry." Fleur greeted, giving him an appreciative look. "You look very 'andsome."

"Fleur." He gave her a charming smile. "More beautiful than ever I see."

"Potter." Roger cut in, stepping closer to the veela as if afraid that Harry would steal her from him.

"Davies." Harry said back, fighting down a smirk at the insecurity of the older but shorter student.

"Luna!" Luna piped up cheerfully.

"Right, you two haven't been introduced yet." Harry realized. "Fleur, Luna. Luna, Fleur."

"Eet eez nice to meet you." Fleur said, shaking hands with the strange girl that had kept her from getting the date she wanted and trying not to feel resentful about it.

Roger wasn't _terrible_ , but he was a third choice at best. With Harry having turned her down, she had needed to find a substitute. A distant second choice had been a handsome boy by the name of Cedric Diggory, but she had seen that he was already with a pretty Asian witch and Fleur wasn't going to sink so low as to poach someone else's man.

It was a truly bizarre state of events when a woman of her beauty was having difficulty getting a date, but they _were_ in Britain. After having an invitation shouted in her face by a rude redheaded boy whom she had noted several times before as having no resistance to her Allure whatsoever, she had resigned herself to the fact that she was going to have to settle for someone...suboptimal.

And that was why she had accepted the invitation from Roger. Hopefully he would have enough resistance to the Allure to keep from drooling on her at least.

She was still intending to monopolize as much of Harry's time as possible though, even if something about his magic made her heart flutter with trepidation at the moment. She knew him well enough by now to ignore it for the most part, though she was terribly curious why his magic had such a strange feeling to it. But that wasn't something you just asked about.

"Champions, over here please!" Came the call from a recently arrived Professor McGonnagal, who was looking very Scottish in red tartan dress robes.

Harry fought down another smirk when she did a double take at him and Luna, swallowed her obvious objection and started explaining what they were to do.

XXXXX

The four of them walked from the entrance to the top table where the judges were sitting, though Harry noted with mixed feelings that Umbridge had been replaced by Percy Weasley of all people. On one hand this was good, because the less he saw of the toad the better...but on the other hand, it was Percy Weasley. Out of the five of them, Karkaroff stood out the most due to the sheer negativity of his presence. He was probably still sour about Krum becoming dragon kebab. Or maybe it was because he was obligated to stay until the end of the tournament even if the Durmstrang champion had been killed.

Percy looked him right in the eye as they approached and and held out a chair, clearly wanting him to sit there.

Harry would have really liked to sit somewhere else, but there was actually nowhere else to sit. Sitting next to Karkaroff would probably be a tense affair that would end with one of them getting bullied away from the table...and it wouldn't be him. Sitting next to Bagman would be more annoying than listening to a five year old chatter. Fleur would assuredly take the spot next to Madam Maxime and Dumbledore was just twinkling at him.

Left with no choice, he sat next to his steward's ex-boyfriend with the expectation that Percy wouldn't keep his mouth shut like a good little peon.

He was proven right, as his arse had barely settled into the chair before the redhead started talking.

"I've been promoted." He announced as if this was actually important, looking and sounding so smug that he might as well have 'punch me in the mouth' written on his forehead. "I'm now Madam Umbridge's personal assistant, and I'm here representing her."

"Failing upwards I see." Harry replied snidely.

"I'd watch my tone if I was you, Potter." Percy's reply was something between blustering self-importance and anger.

"Or else what?" Harry asked, actually quite amused. "Are you going to cry to Umbitch that I was mean to you? And where is the toad anyway?"

Percy's face went red with indignation and he struggled to find a comeback. Eventually he decided to answer the question because he couldn't find one. His threat had been an idle one.

"She's at the Ministry doing important work." He said haughtily and turned away.

That 'important work' actually happened to be the fallout of Krum's death, as it was the British Ministry of Magic taking the heat for the death of Bulgaria's rising quidditch star. Accusations were being thrown around, some of them way off the mark and some of them uncomfortably close to it. The one's about Britain wanting Krum dead because he was too good at quidditch was way off the mark, the one about the switch to the most dangerous dragon species being a deliberate murder attempt was close to it, though for all the wrong reasons.

In short, Fudge was quickly finding himself overwhelmed and had recalled Umbridge to help him in her capacity as Senior Undersecretary. The fact that most of the DIMC was now staffed with incompetent sycophants was not helping the matter at all. It was also largely the reason for Percy's promotion. Bootlicking toady he might be, but he was at least somewhat competent. In comparison.

It never occured to Fudge that Umbridge's particular brand of diplomacy would not improve the situation.

But that was elsewhere.

"Catching flies with her tongue no doubt." Harry snarked for the sole purpose of getting the last word in.

Percy pretended not to hear as he got into a debate with Bagman.

Harry smirked and told his plate what food he would like, figuring that the Eavesdropping Charm on it was linked to the kitchen. It was also a convenient way to listen in on any conversations going on, but he doubted that was the purpose here and he hadn't said anything worth knowing anyway.

"You shouldn't play with Percy like that." Luna commented now that the verbal spar was over. She never got involved in them. "He has so many wrackspurts that he isn't any match for you."

"Wrackspurts for days?" Harry snickered.

"For days and days." She confirmed.

Harry snickered some more and pondered Percy's reasoning for even starting that. Well there wasn't much pondering to be done really. Given that they'd never interacted before and had only one thing in common. Penny. The redheaded ponce had wanted to brag about his 'success' in order to soothe his own ego. The position of steward for a Noble House was a prestigious one and usually handled either by the Lady of the House or a trusted family member. To his knowledge it had never been held by a muggleborn. That he'd given it to Penny would have rubbed a lot of people wrong, but none of them quite so much as her pompous ex-boyfriend, who she had dumped on the very day that she had gotten it.

That minor mystery solved, he looked around the table to see if there was anything interesting going on.

Fleur was ranting to Davies about how much more amazing Beauxbatons was than Hogwarts, an opinion that Harry suspected was at least partially based on the longstanding rivarly between France and Britain. The rant was clearly wasted on Davies, who looked as if he was about to start drooling. That was pretty much it.

Once all the food was eaten, Dumbledore stood up and waved his wand to clear the tables and make room for dancing. As a final touch he raised a platform that was clearly meant for the band.

"Time to dance I guess." Harry muttered and took Luna's hand, leading her to the floor. Fleur and Davies did the same.

The dance was a stiffly formal affair and not particularly enjoyable, but not really onerous either. Even the stares tapered off towards the end as other people started joining in.

"Oh dear, looks like Fleur isn't having a whole lot of fun." Luna commented.

Harry turned them around to look and saw that Fleur was indeed not having a whole lot of fun. Her date had a distinctly glazed look to him and was having trouble focusing on anything aside from the veela, including his feet. Only the fact that the dance was very slow was saving him from making a disaster of it.

"Alas, poor Roger, for he is weak of mind." Harry sighed dramatically.

"I'm surprised that you can keep your attention away from her." Luna noted. "You used to stare at girls all the time and Fleur has an arse you could bounce a galleon off of."

Harry took a quick look to confirm this, or re-confirm as the case may be. Yes, it was true, Fleur's French derriere was magnificent. And her breasts were nothing to sneer at either. If the veela species as a whole ever got bored with magic, they could mount an assault on the modeling industry that would leave it populated exclusively with supernaturally beautiful blondes. Only the lack of variety might spare the brown skinned brunettes of the world.

"That was years ago and I've mastered my impulses since then." He said loftily. The constant presence of Dark after sundown also helped to dull that particular impulse.

Luna simply hummed in response and took another look at the increasingly annoyed looking veela. "You promised her a dance didn't you?"

"Something like that." Harry shrugged. Fleur had a bad habit of beating around the bush when she wanted something, so she had merely implied heavily that she wanted to dance with him rather than asking for it.

"This is a good time to rescue her then, the song is about to end."

"I suppose we should." Harry mused. "It would be the polite thing to do. I get the feeling that Davies may not be feeling cooperative though."

"I'll take care of Roger." Luna said serenely and steered them towards the two.

Fleur saw them coming and Harry had to fight down a grin at the hope on her face. Davies was really not making a good impression.

"Excuse me, Fleur. Do you mind if Roger dances with me?" Luna asked.

"Not at all." Fleur was quick to assure, almost to the point of rudeness actually.

"Wonderful. Come along, Roger."

"But–" The seventh year tried to protest.

"Have fun now." Harry talked over him and edged him away from the veela, which was easy enough to do since she helped.

Davies gave him a dirty look as Luna led him away, probably thinking something best left unsaid in polite company.

" _Merci_ , I zink 'e waz about to start drooling." Fleur said with relief. The ominous feel of his magic at this close proximity made an icy chill go up her spine, but she resolutely ignored it. It was still better than putting up with an Allure addled wizard.

"We saw. How did you end up with him anyway?" He asked, settling into the new, faster paced dance.

Fleur was disappointed that he hadn't taken the opportunity to flirt, but kept it off her face. There was still plenty of time in the ball for that.

"'E was the least terrible option of zose zat were still available." She shrugged, giving her breasts a deliberate jiggle, which she was glad to see his eyes flick towards. That was good, because if he had turned out to be gay, Fleur would have felt very stupid. And upset.

"A scathing assessment of the Hogwarts male population." Harry said, vastly amused.

"You at least are adequate." Fleur replied haughtily, smiling slightly.

"I'm so glad that all that dance practice isn't going to waste." He drolled.

"Eet eez not." She assured him. "You are not az good az a Frenchman, but eet will do."

"I may not dance as well as the French, but at least I bathe regularly." Harry ribbed back.

Fleur was once again disappointed that he hadn't taken the opportunity to suggest that she give him private dancing lessons but smiled at the nationalist crack anyway. If nothing else, he was more of a challenge than someone who would be too affected by her Allure to even hold a proper conversation.

They kept up the lighthearted banter as they moved through the dance. Fleur gave him opportunities to flirt as often as she was able and was frustrated when he took none of them. It made her wonder if he was doing it on purpose or if he was merely oblivious.

"Looks like Davies has managed to escape from Luna." Harry observed as the song neared conclusion, seeing the seventh year approach with a determined look in his eye.

Fleur muttered something under her breath that sounded suspicioulsy like ' _merde_ '.

"Potter, can I have my date back now?" Roger asked, though it sounded more like a demand than a question.

"No can do, Davies. Fleur's already promised me the next dance." Harry replied, amused at the seventh year's bristling.

"Eet eez true, Roger." Fleur was quick to back him up, causing the Ravenclaw's face to fall. "I will zee you later."

"Can you get rid of 'im?" She asked as soon as they were out of hearing range. "I do not wish to zpend ze 'ole evening avoiding 'im." The funny part was that if it wasn't for Harry, she might have taken Roger back to the Beauxbatons carriages and...made use of him. An Allure addled wizard was still good for a bit of playtime. Kind of like a sex toy and about as intelligent as one too. As it was, she was entirely focused on Harry and Roger was getting in the way.

"I could, but I want something in return."

"And what would you like?" If this were any other wizard, she would expect him to ask for sex. That was something that she would not be opposed to in principle, though she _would_ be opposed to being treated like a prostitute. Veela were sensual by nature, but also tended to have a prickly sense of pride. It made for some volatile combinations.

But she didn't expect that to come up here. Harry Potter was being quite obtuse towards her hints, deliberately or otherwise.

"A private conversation about some potentially sensitive topics." Harry answered vaguely. The issue of Sex Magic continued to plague him and Fleur was the closest thing to an expert he had access to baring Adrastia Zabini, who was not necessarily trustworthy. He would have to part with a secret or two in exchange for that information, but he had a little insurance. Adrastia had taught him the value of preparing leverage ahead of time if nothing else.

Fleur's curiousity was well and truly piqued by that and she agreed easily.

"Alright, now to get rid of Davies." Harry muttered. "Take the lead, I'll need to focus. And get us close to him."

Fleur fluidly stepped up to take the lead, noting how distracted Harry had become. It was like dancing with a well balanced and articulated manequin. She steered them towards the table where Roger was sulking, Luna smiling vapidly next to him.

Some thiry seconds later, Roger Davies experienced a terrible itching sensation paired with a desire to go back to his room in order to take care of it.

"What did you do?" Fleur asked in wonder.

"Itching Curse combined with a mid level compulsion." Harry explained smugly. He was rather proud of that one.

"With no wand?" She breathed in shock. Aura manipulation was one thing, but this...? She'd thought that his previous use of Itching Curses had been done with some clever sleight of hand to conceal his wand, but with one hand currently in hers and the other on her back, that simply wasn't possible. And what was this about combining spells?

"Keep that to yourself for now, yeah? I'm not looking to announce that skill publically just yet." Harry cautioned.

Fleur felt the creeping cold of his aura briefly swell in intensity and knew that ignoring his request would be...unwise. She would keep it to herself, but also found herself impatient for the meeting now. Aside from rampant curiousity, her interest in Harry had just gone up a few notches and a private setting after a sensitive conversation would be a perfect opportunity to seduce him. She doubted that she would come across a man even half as interesting anywhere in the near future and she was not going to lose out on account of dithering uncertainly.

XXXXX

After Roger Davies came down with a powerful itch and left the ball, Fleur went to sit down and chat with Luna and Harry found himself assailed by females hoping for a dance with him. The first of them were Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, a couple of fangirls that were bolder than the norm, possibly on account of being Gryffindors and being in the same year as him, for what little that counted these days.

Harry didn't really have too much of a problem with his fangirls. Yes, their giggling could get a bit irritating, but the overall attention was actually kind of flattering. Seeing no need to be a heel and crush their hopes, he agreed to dance with them.

He danced with Parvati first and Lavender second, each girl beaming happily the whole time. Their hands also got a bit adventurous, but Harry let them have their fun. He couldn't really muster any emotion about being groped by a pretty girl save amusement and mild arousal.

The success experienced by Lavender and Parvati emboldened the others and he quickly found himself dancing with girls ranging from seventh years down to a nervous second year Hufflepuff that he had to wonder who had invited to begin with.

This was interspersed by an occasional dance with Fleur or Luna, the former clearly favoring him over other potential dance partners and the latter just having fun. He had even decided to ask professors Babbling and Vector to dance with him. Both because they were two of his favorites and because he figured it was the closest he was going to get to fulfilling his private fantasy of bedding the pretty Arithmancy teacher. If nothing else, he had managed to slightly brighten the moods of the two bored women.

All in all, Harry still thought that formal parties weren't much fun, but grudgingly recognized that it wasn't their purpose either. Their purpose was to provide an excuse to socialize with people you wouldn't normally meet and lower the usual boundaries that applied in day to day life. He imagined that a woman like Adrastia would be right at home in an event like this, picking out her future victims with nobody able to tell her to bugger off because it would be rude.

XXXXX

Two days after the Yule Ball, Fleur was in the seventh floor corridor looking for a tapestry of a wizard teaching trolls how to dance ballet. She was so keyed up for this meeting that she didn't even bother to feel superior about how Beauxbatons would never allow anything so tasteless to adorn its halls.

She had carefully noted Harry's preference for mundane clothing at the ball and chosen her outfit accordingly, which was easily done since magical France was much more relaxed about such things than Britain. The Beauxbatons uniform was a robe only as a nod to tradition, but it was an otherwise common sight for French wizards and witches to be more or less indistinguishable from the mundane population unless they happened to favor robes for one reason or another.

Thus Fleur was dressed in strategically tight fitting white pants and a similarly body hugging pink turtleneck that left none of her form to the imagination. Casual, but not too casual. Enticing but not thrashy. The barely existent black thong and matching bra she wore underneath were far clearer in their purpose.

Veela chose their mates rather differently than human women, by necessity more than choice. It tended to resemble a predator pouncing on prey more than a typical courtship, though the prey most often ran towards them rather than away. Their naturally high sex drives and certain other attributes didn't really permit a slow moving relationship. The problem was that the most valued sort of mate – which she was almost certain Harry was – also happened to be the most resistant to their charms. It would make the end result all the sweeter, but it had a proportionally higher chance of failure. Magical power was not everything of course, but it was an unfailing indicator of an exceptional person.

Fleur knew that she was a bit young to be deciding on a mate, having not even finished school and still some years away from full maturity. Even more, her target was fourteen(ostensibly) and really should not have been this much of a prize. But the situation was what it was and Fleur knew better than to let the opportunity pass her by. Her mother and grandmother would never ler her live it down if they learned that she had allowed such a wizard to slip away and done nothing to even attempt snaring him.

The silly tapestry came into view, as did the promised door on the other side of the hallway and Fleur strode towards it with determination. All the little details like Harry being fourteen and British didn't matter. If all went according to plan, then today was the day that she was going to ride him until he begged for mercy, and then she was going to keep riding him until he begged for more.

The room she found herself in was more of a richly furnished sitting room than something she would have expected to find in a school, but Hogwarts was just about strange enough for this to be possible.

Harry was sitting on a comfortable looking couch and the way that his eyes raked over her form set her pulse to racing. That was a good sign. Unfortunately, the blonde girl sitting next to him was a bad sign.

"Hello." Luna said with a wave.

"Fleur, welcome." Harry greeted warmly. "Please have a seat."

Fleur was a bit put out at Luna's presence, but pushed through it. The plan could still work. She very deliberately ignored all the other pieces of furniture in the room and sat on the same couch as the two of them, on Harry's other side and a bit closer than strictly necessary. She noticed that Harry's aura was warm and inviting today rather than cold and ominous.

" _Bonjour,_ 'Arry, Luna." She said, settling down and subtly pushing out her chest. "Not to be rude, but did you not zay you wanted a _private_ conversation?"

"Luna has a stake in this too, that's why she's here." Harry explained, glancing towards the girl.

"Actually, I was hoping that I would get to watch if you two were going to have sex." Luna corrected.

Fleur had spoken to the smaller blonde during the ball and had begrudgingly liked her despite the fact that she would been able to go to the Yule Ball with Harry if not for her, but that still caught her off guard.

Harry on the other hand did not seem surprised, merely resigned. "Luna, I already told you that there isn't going to be any sex."

 _We'll see about that._ Fleur thought to herself.

"You shouldn't be so stubborn, Harry." Luna scolded. "Fleur would be an excellent addition to my harem."

 _...What?_

" _Your_ harem?" Harry asked, sounding just as surprised as Fleur felt. "I thought it was supposed to be _my_ harem?"

"Harry." The way that the other blonde said his name made Fleur think of a teacher trying to explain a very simple concept to an especially dense student. "Just because you would be the only person with a penis in it doesn't make it your harem."

"She eez right." Fleur agreed firmly, her opinion of Luna rising a few notches. Veela and succubi were well known to cultivate harems in the old days, though succubi had also had the unfortunate tendency of sucking the life out of them.

And on that note, any harems that Fleur would be joining in would quickly become _her_ harem. The thought of having to share Harry with another woman was significantly less objectionable than being in a subordinate position in such an arrangement.

Harry did not seem to agree though and was determined to argue. "Alright, let's say for a moment that it is your harem. Why then would I be the only guy in it? Because you know, that seems to be playing to my sexual preferences."

Fleur was curious about Luna's response to this one so she did nothing but listen attentively.

"That's simple." Luna said with authority. "Useful things though penises are, I wouldn't want to wake up with one in my face all the time. I've already seen yours and judged it more than adequate and it would probably be my favorite even if I had others to choose from. Besides, I've seen what you do to poor Nymphadora when you have enough time and having a couple of extra vaginas to direct you to when I get tired seems like a good idea."

Harry worked his jaw for a while and then gave the most grudging concession that Fleur had ever witnessed. "That makes a disturbing amount of sense."

She was more interested in something else that Luna had said though. " _Excuse-moi,_ but 'oo eez Nymphadora?"

"My girlfriend, and largely the reason for this conversation actually, so how about we get to that?" Harry said, clearly hoping to change the subject.

Fleur had to fight down the unwarranted jealous rage upon learning that the wizard she had set her sights on was taken, though she didn't manage to keep her nostrils or aura from flaring. Harry Potter had to be the most frustrating fourteen year old in existence. Any other would have been reduced to playdough by her presence alone, but he just happened to be immune and also taken. Of course, the fact that he was immune and all that it implied was a large part of the reason that she wanted him, but that didn't make it any less frustrating.

Judging by the glance that Harry gave her, he had felt the flare.

"But we haven't even heard Fleur's opinion about joining my harem." Luna protested.

"Luna, you can't just assume that every girl is bisexual and into polygamy." Harry explained patiently and with the air of someone who had done it before.

"All veela are at least somewhat bisexual by necessity and I do not mind polygamy eef I like everyone involved." Fleur interjected before Luna could reply to that.

Harry blinked at her owlishly. "Bisexual by necessity?"

" _Oui,_ a veela's sex drive quickly becomes...problematic after puberty eef eet eez not satisfied frequently. Older veela are usually willing to 'elp with zis until we are old enough to find our own bedmates. Eef zere are no alternatives muzzers or older seesters do zis." Fleur explained, watching Harry's face carefully.

As she had expected he gaped at her in utter shock. It was always amusing to see people's reactions when they were confronted with the stark fact that veela were not human and had different needs as a result. Well it was amusing if they didn't descend into a screaming rant about the unnaturalness of it, but those people generally weren't worth talking to in the first place.

"Okay, can't say I saw _that_ coming." Harry muttered to himself, still looking poleaxed. "Does masturbation not work?"

" _Non._ " Fleur said shortly, not wanting to get into _that_ issue. The speculative look on Harry's face made her nervous for some reason. It wasn't the look of someone thinking about sex, but of someone pulling apart a puzzle.

"Ooh, ooh!" Luna bounced excitedly. "Did your parents let you watch them have sex?"

"Zey did." Fleur admitted. " _Papa_ did not want to, but _maman_ insisted that I needed to zee zo zat I would underztand better and she got 'er way. _Papa_ eez already dreading ze day when my leetle seester Gabrielle eez old enough to watch." She finished with a giggle, remembering her poor father's mortified looks on the mornings after.

"My parents used to let me watch too, but Harry and Nymphadora never do." Luna pouted.

"Zat eez very irresponsible, 'Arry. You would leave Luna unprepared for 'er first time rather than let 'er watch?" Fleur scolded, knowing perfectly well that the same logic that worked for veela didn't apply for humans but having far too much fun picking on Harry to care.

"Why am I being scolded for not being a deviant?" Harry demanded incredulously.

Fleur could only give a disdainful sniff in response. "A deviant according to 'oo?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply only to realize that he had no answer, or at least no good one. Fleur was glad to have agreed to this conversation. It was the most fun she'd had all year. And they hadn't even gotten to the point!

"I think I'm going to perform a tactical retreat and say that we should move on to the reason I asked you here." Harry said with a frown.

"What did you want to talk about zen?" Fleur asked, terribly amused.

"Is it possible to perform The Joining without subverting your partner?"

And just like that, Fleur was no longer amused. Sensitive indeed! A great deal of blood had been shed over this topic and veela were forever cautious to never mention it in front of non-veela. If she ever found out whose lips had been so careless...

"Where did you 'ear about zat?" She demanded.

"From an...ally." Was his vague, even reluctant answer. Clearly someone he had mixed feelings about.

Fleur thought quickly. Harry already knew too much, far too much. If there was a veela out there blabbing secrets then she had to find out who it was, but she doubted that Harry would part with that information easily.

"Why do you want to know?" She asked, mostly to stall for time.

"Because I've been performing it frequently on my girlfriend and on Luna and I want to know if it can be done without influencing them." Harry explained.

"I told him not to worry about it, but he doesn't listen to me." Luna added.

Meanwhile, Fleur was completely flabbergasted. " _Impossible!_ Only veela can perform Ze Joining."

"Ah, I guess that means that you don't know anything either." Harry said, his disappointment clear.

" _Non,_ eet eez you who knows nozzing." Fleur insisted. "Ze Joining can only be done by veela. Zat you speak of performing eet on Luna when eet eez clear zat you 'ave not slept with 'er proves eet."

"Joining your magic with your partner's in the moment of climax when their guard is down and their souls are open? An application of Soul Magic hidden within Sex Magic." Harry recited, causing the blood to leave Fleur's face at the accurate description. "Luna is a special case I'll admit. She likes to come sleep in my bed and her soul is open and unguarded to me even without sex involved. She insists that I perform The Joining every time."

"It feels really nice." Luna added, smiling in fond remembrance.

"But...'ow?" Now Fleur was just confused. She had never heard of anyone but a veela performing The Joining and the idea of being able to do it with someone without sex was equally baffling. The release of a powerful orgasm was an important catalyst in achieving a sufficiently relaxed state of mind for it to work. The instinctive walls that people had around their souls could not be dropped simply by wishing it. The level of trust required for The Joining to be possible without sex was absurd and best left in the realms of bad fiction.

"Is it really so hard to believe that veela don't hold a monopoly on Sex Magic?" Harry asked, sounding very amused.

Yes, it was hard to believe...it had simply always been that way. The sky was blue, snow was cold, the Sun was warm, water was wet and only veela could perform The Joining.

"Here, let me show you." Harry went on and took her hand.

Fleur bit her lip and rubbed her thighs together as she felt his powerful, warm magic slither over and into her before running into a block. Yes, that was definitely The Joining, but it was like nothing she'd ever felt. It was far too controlled for one. Veela performed it by instinct and only in the heat of passion. This was something new.

"I'm asking about this because I've been performing it on my girlfriend and Luna for months now and I've been advised that this would change them. Luna insists that I keep doing it and Dora has been subconsciously missing it ever since I stopped. I need to know if it can be done without brainwashing people."

Fleur got her arousal under control with the ease of long practice and decided to answer truthfully. "'Arry...veela cannot control Ze Joining at all. We perform it every time we 'ave zex."

It was the other half of the reason besides their sex drives for why their relationships progressed so quickly. They had to be careful about sleeping with the same person too many times. It wasn't a problem in the old days when they had warred against wizardkind and could maintain harems of lovesick followers, but in this modern day care had to be taken. It was either one night stands or a committed relationship. No middle ground was possible.

Oh, they did get the occasional instance of a veela who wanted to abuse her gifts and form harems for herself, but they always got slapped down quickly. Nobody wanted old hatreds to bubble up again, especially not now that they were finally considered to be completely equal to human wizards and witches in the eyes of the law, a process that had taken centuries and had needed the devastation of the second World War as a catalyst. Equal in most of Europe at least. Britain lagged behind as always.

The veela's need for sex had led to the common misconception that they were sluts that would sleep with anyone, which had been countered by restricting themselves mostly to other veela. Fleur had been in quite a bind ever since coming to Britain. Her mother had been able to give her some relief after the first task, but she was still aching for more. If she could get Harry, that problem would be solved. She had a feeling that she would be sleeping with him as often as possible and would not regret mating with him for life.

Of course, if he could perform The Joining as well, the situation was different. He would not look at her with a lovestruck gaze simply because of the sex. Fleur found herself strangely eager for the challenge of winning him over without that overwhelming advantage.

"I see, so there isn't a way." Harry sighed, clearly disappointed.

"I 'ave 'eard zat ze very powerful may resist, zough zat eez more rumor zan fact." Fleur said sympathetically. "But _non_ , zere is no way to perform ze Joining without changing ze ozzer eef zey are not veela or like you."

Fleur had heard a lot of things during this conversation that she didn't like and many things she had never imagined, but there was a silver lining as well.

Namely, Harry could control The Joining and was refusing to perform it on his girlfriend because he did not want to change her.

There were veela who felt the same as him, who slept only with other veela their entire lives, not wanting the kind of love given by The Joining. Aside from those who prefered women, it was a large part of the reason for their low numbers despite only birthing daughters. Veela already had lower birth rates than witches as a given, but they could also not get pregnant by a non-magical man nor even be happy with one. It rather limited the potential fathers of their children.

Sebastien Delacour was very happily married to his wife Apolline. He had no choice in the matter. Her Allure had long since turned him into a perfectly devoted husband. Apolline loved him dearly and was happy with him, but she could leave whereas he could not. He was essentially addicted to his wife. The more romantically inclined would call it a soul bond, but nobody paid much attention to those airheaded nitwits.

If Harry had been performing The Joining on his girlfriend for months then she must assuredly have already developed the yearning for more. His words confirmed it. Their relationship would not last unless he resumed performing it. They would be happy together again as long as Harry could accept that he had been pulling on his girlfriend's soul to ensure the success of their relationship.

She had no intention of telling him this. It would give her an opportunity to make a move on him once it fell apart. Luna was clearly going to remain a fixture and would no doubt insist on turning it into a threeway, but Fleur could live with that. Quite easily in fact. The other blonde was fun, open minded and had the makings of a beautiful woman. All good things. She would perhaps not even mind including this Nymphadora later on if the woman proved likeable, but only after she had established herself already. Humans tended to be jealous creatures and unwilling to share. According to her mother, it was often a source of frustration for married veela to put up with their spouse's insistence on monogamy, but that was a sacrifice they had made to end the war between them.

Fleur strongly suspected that her mother's bi-monthly get togethers with other married veela were thinly veiled excuses to have orgies and work off some of the sexual frustration they accumulated with their too easily exhausted husbands.

Yes, this meeting may not have gone the way she had planned it and she would be leaving it with damp panties and unfulfilled desires, but she could hold off on making a grab for this one slice of cake if she could have all of it later.

XXXXX

A good ten minutes after Fleur had left, Harry was still sitting on the couch with his head in his hands.

He'd been hoping that Fleur would have a solution that he hadn't seen, but it turned out that she knew even less than Adrastia.

Veela apparently did it all by instinct, whereas the Black Widow had learned to carefully twist a man's soul, one strand at a time. The spider-esque moniker was more appropriate than people knew.

Harry could make a guess at the reasons for the veela's strange combination of ability and ignorance. He even had a pretty solid theory for their existence.

Lilith, a powerful ancient sorceress cut from a similar cloth as Adrastia and desiring immortality, had somehow managed to capture a phoenix and consume it, turning herself into a hybrid creature of some sort. Only that instead of having burning days, she used the lives and magics of those she slept with to fuel her life.

It would all fit. The alignment with Light, the magic in Fleur's song, the bird transformation, the fire affinity, even their auras were vaguely similar to that of Fawkes. The Allure was some form of magical calling combined with the Light of their souls that Lilith must have ritually bound to her bloodline. It was diluted by time until it had turned into what veela had now, but that was the only thing it could be. No doubt it was also the reason why masturbation didn't aleviate their urges much. Harry had a similar problem, though from a difference source.

Other wizards had bound gifts to their bloodline in a similar fashion; Parseltongue and Metamorph abilities were just two examples. Parseltongue was little more than the remnant magic of some long ago snake Animagus anyway. Maybe Salazar Slytherin, maybe someone even older. Probably more than one person. Harry himself was planning to bind the ability to speak to corvid bird species to his bloodline once he mastered it completely.

He also resolved to never ever mention this to anyone. Setting aside the squeamish bureaucrats and their stupid laws, there were people out there that would kill for this knowledge. A dark temptress that Sirius had metaphorically put him into bed with came to mind. He could well imagine Adrastia's reaction to learning of that particular theory. She would stop at nothing to become another Lilith. A power mad Pyromancer consumed by her own passions that could enthrall anything magical with just her presence was not something the world needed. She was bad enough with just her beauty and cunning to use as weapons.

He had been planning to dangle this knowledge as both a carrot and a stick over Fleur's head as a last resort in case he had to, but she had been more forthcoming than he had expected. He was glad that he could keep it to himself.

 _Not that it helped me actually resolve anything_. He thought sourly. He was still stuck in the same shitty situation that he had jumped into in regards to both Dora and Luna. The former had clearly noticed the difference since he'd stopped performig The Joining on her and it was affecting her behavior. The latter would not hear of him stopping it now that she knew what he was doing. She would not sleep until he did it now that she knew, would refuse to hear any of his arguments about being changed by it.

Harry was humbled by the trust she showed him, but it still made him feel as if he was taking advantage of her. He couldn't even know if the trust was a by-product of The Joining or something that she would've given him even without it.

He sensed a spell coming at him and ducked by sheer instinct.

"You're brooding again, Harry." Luna began with a happy smile. "Let's train instead."

Harry could agree with that. He needed something simple right now.

XXXXX

 _Elsewhere in the world..._

The land between Austria and Greece was widely known to the world at large as 'the Balkans'. A mysterious area that seemed to change size depending on the nationality of the person talking about it. If you asked a Slovenian for example, they probably would tell you that it started at their southern border and if you asked a Croatian, there was a good chance they would tell you that it started at _their_ southern border. Greece, Romania and Bulgaria were included in the Balkans according to some people and empathically not included according to others.

The geographical ambiguities of the mundane world did not much affect the magical side of things however. Yes indeed, the magical world had much less confusion on the subject of the Balkans. Namely, the magical realms of Greece, Bulgaria, Romania, Hungary and Germany(plus Austria because wizards never gave two shits about the Treaty of Versailles) all had functioning governments and everything in between did not, so they were named 'the Magical Balkans' and nobody could say otherwise.

The Magical Balkans were also collectively labeled under the term 'not my fucking problem' by all of these magical nations, which naturally meant that it was everyone's fucking problem.

It wasn't really that much of a problem to be honest. Wizards and witches were in general a great deal less anal retentive about borders than their mundane counterparts, probably because they didn't have enough people between them worldwide to populate even a single smallish city. So it was that the aforementioned magical nations kept an eye on the place to make sure that none of the sparse population of magical creatures got noticed by the mundane human population and split the magicals born there among themselves for training. Other than that, the Magical Balkans were considered something of a wilderness by most of the magical world. Kind of like the Australian Outback but with less kangaroos.

Of course it wasn't _actually_ a wilderness of any sort and what magicals did live in the area considered the smugly self-important wizards and witches from 'proper' countries to be a bunch of cock gobbling twats.

One of these locals was a Serbian wizard by the name of Goran Gojkov, though you would be hard pressed to tell that he was actually a wizard. His eyes were grey, his hair was shaved close to his skull, his face sported a perpetual sprinkling of coarse stubble, his nose was a bit on the large side and he typically went around dressed in the almost-painfully-cliché-for-Slavs Adidas brand striped black sweatpants and trainers.

Goran liked living in the Magical Balkans. The lack of any proper magical government in the area meant that he could get away with quite a lot of things that would be impossible in a place that did have such a government. As long as he kept a low profile and didn't do anything too disruptive, a wizard could live a very comfortable life in the normal world without actually needing to expend a whole lot of effort for it. Money was always easy to come by with a with a few swishes of the wand and non-magical girls were just as good a lay as witches and they came with the added benefit of being easy to memory wipe when they got too annoying.

Obviously, Goran was not a very nice man. In fact, he would be termed a dark wizard in just about any place that had a functioning Ministry of Magic. That was why Goran did not live in those places.

The only problem was that it was damned hard to get one's hands on anything magical unless you happened to be capable of making it yourself. To get that kind of thing you needed goblin gold, which meant goblins, which was a problem because Goran had done a 'borrow and run' stunt on them back when he'd been twenty-something and certain that he was invincible. The goblins had not been impressed with his perceived invincibility and he'd been avoiding them ever since.

Being an enterprising youth with little in the way of morals even then, Goran had come upon the idea that he would moonlight as a professional wizard hitman. That idea hadn't made him fabulously rich like he'd thought at the time, but he did occasionally get a contract.

"Never killed a celebrity before." Goran muttered to himself, looking over the contract to kill Harry Potter that some cock gobbling twat had taken out. He had no idea who because said cock gobbling twat was keen on staying anonymous. The target was a bit high profile, but the details of when the hit was to take place were favorable enough. Plus, the fat sack of galleons that was the up front part of the payment was bigger than most full prices, so he really couldn't turn it down, even if it did mean taking a really cold fucking swim.

XXXXX

The other person with designs on Harry Potter's life at the moment was considerably less picky about her choice of assassin than Lucius Malfoy, not to mention less cautious.

"Thank you, gentlemen." Umbridge simpered. "You are doing the Ministry of Magic a great service."

"Always happy to help the Ministry, Madam Umbridge." A man replied, pocketing a bag of galleons.

His three friends nodded enthusiastically.

Incidentally, these happened to be the remaining four out of eight Death Eaters who had attempted to murder Harry and Sirius at the Quidditch World Cup back in August, though Umbridge didn't actually know that.

They had been stewing hatefully over the death of their friends ever since and were eager for another go at the Boy-That-Just-Wouldn't-Die. That they would be getting paid for it was just extra incentive.

XXXXX

 _February 14th._

Tonks couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. The problem was that there shouldn't be anything wrong.

She'd had the morning shift today, which had sucked, but Harry had showed up to take her on a date, which was good. They'd gone mini-golfing and it had been lots of fun. Generally speaking, Harry shouldn't be vanishing from Hogwarts for half a day, but he'd insisted and didn't care about the rules anyway. It was Valentine's Day he'd said and handed her a heart shaped box of chocolates. Which was odd because she knew that Harry thought that Valentine's Day was just another event that people hyped up out of proportion in an effort to sell more heart shaped candy.

He had been making an effort to be less cynical and more romantic like that ever since the Black Widow fiasco, which Tonks figured was him trying to make up for his secrecy. It was kind of cute watching him try.

They'd gone back to Potter Manor after the date and engaged in some wonderfully protracted sex and put his birthday present to good use. But...something just didn't feel right. The worst part was that she simply couldn't point her finger at what it was.

It had been highly pleasurable as always and Harry's continued fondness for cunnilingus had made him quite the expert on extracting multiple orgasms from a woman. Additionally, he had also developed some delicious pecs, biceps, triceps and various back muscles whereas he had previously been a bit scrawny. Pushups he'd explained, so that the top matched the bottom. She hadn't minded the scrawnyness – he _was_ fourteen after all – but this new muscliness was another big plus for him.

But something was still wrong. He just seemed more distant somehow despite all the effort he was putting in. He brooded a bit more and visited a bit less, but not hugely so. It wasn't really a problem, but something had definitely changed, something other than that. There seemed to be a hesitation and uncertainty to him that wasn't there before.

Maybe the problem was with her? She couldn't help noticing that she didn't feel that powerful surge of lust that had become so familiar when he touched her. She still wanted him, but something was just _different_. Less intense somehow.

"Whatcha thinking?" She asked, running her fingers over the arm he had wrapped around her. The scarred one.

He hesitated and she knew that he was going to lie to her. She saw a few strands of her hair turning the hated mousy brown that she would've had if she wasn't a Metamorphmagus. There were other changes too; she lost a bit of height, her figure became slightly less of an hourglass shape and her breasts became a bit smaller, saggier and generally less attractive. Her powers always got sulky when she was sad, which she figured made sense. She was feeling kinda sulky too.

"Nothing much." He murmured, hugging her closer and nuzzling her hair.

It felt nice, but he was still lying to her. Which meant that whatever he was thinking about had something to do with the stuff he wanted to keep secret from her. Stuff that Sirius knew but she didn't. Stuff that was being kept from her because it was probably illegal.

Like how he was getting away from Hogwarts. And why he looked a good five or six years older than he really was. And what the Zabini woman had been doing to Sirius to mess him up. Stuff that Harry might know a thing or two about if he was able to detect it. Stuff that Harry might be capable of himself. She'd restrained herself from asking for a long while, but enough was enough.

"Harry, the thing that Zabini did to Sirius...can you do it too?" She asked and felt him go still. Yes, he definitely knew how to do it.

XXXXX

 _Shite._

Why did she have to be so smart? He wasn't going to be able to bullshit his way out of this one.

He could feel her soul so clearly, a cheery spark that was currently clouded with sadness and suspicion. He could perform The Joining, soothe away all the rough edges and assure her that everything was alright. It might be too late for that now, but he didn't think so. She wasn't on guard yet. Ever since his talk with Adrastia, he'd been seeing in ever increasing clarity what he had previously overlooked. How...vulnerable an open soul was. How he could tease out certain parts of it and quiet others. He might not be able to do it in one sitting, but repeated several times...he could make sure that she wouldn't ask anymore.

It was so tempting to tweak things so that they would be more to his liking, it was little wonder that Adrastia had taken such glee in destroying the husband she hated, reveling in the power she had suddenly gained. So easy to see why she had wanted to feel it again.

But he couldn't do that. Which meant that he was going to have to tell her. Shit, fuck and a string of other four letter words.

He had told Luna and it had been alright, so it might be alright now too. Then again, Luna was anything but normal...which was why he had felt comfortable telling her in the first place.

Harry gave a defeated sigh. "Alright, I'll tell you." Maybe it would work out. He didn't believe it, but maybe. He had procrastinated for far too long anyway, it was time to face the music.

XXXXX

Over the course of the conversation, Tonks had started becoming uncomfortable and squirmed out of the cuddle so that she could see him.

Harry didn't try to stop her, he'd expected it. Not everyone could be as accepting as Luna. Most people couldn't in fact.

"And this 'Joining'...you've been doing it to me?" She asked tightly, not really sure what to feel.

"Not since I've learned how it was affecting you. I only wanted to enhance pleasure, not change you." Harry said. Again.

Tonks took a deep breath and let it out. Then she took another.

What the hell was she supposed to say to this? To know that the feeling of closeness that she'd been missing all this time was because he'd stopped poking around her soul...

The only reason she wasn't going for her wand and cursing the life out of him was because he'd clearly had no clue of the full extent of what he was doing.

But it frightened her, how much power he'd had over her. How was anyone supposed to defend themselves from this kind of attack? The Imperious was sometimes called the subtlest of the Unforgivables, but compared to this it might as well be a blasting curse.

She had to know what it felt like, so that she could recognize it in the future.

"Could you...do it on me right now? Just so that I can get a feel for what it's like?" She asked nervously.

Harry barely resisted the urge to laugh bitterly. "I could, but you're so tense that it wouldn't get through. You wouldn't feel anything."

That actually made Tonks feel better and she insisted that he do it. As he'd said, she felt nothing. Then she asked him to do it again while she cast diagnostic charms with her wand, all of which came up negative. That did _not_ make her feel better.

"Is there any way at all to detect this?" she demanded tersely. "How did you do it?"

"You can't detect it because it isn't a spell. It takes a certain...self-awareness to be capable of manipulating magic like this." Harry explained, skirting along the edge of being truthful. "Most people can't do it, but I think all the really powerful ones like Dumbledore and Voldemort can."

"But neither you or Zabini are that powerful." Tonks said neutrally.

"No." Harry admitted. He was still quite a ways off from being at that level and Adrastia was even less so. "It _is_ possible to gain the ability in other ways, but it involves a very personal experience that confronts a person with who they truly are." Or in his case, a botched ritual that left him with two conflicting forces in his soul and gave it enough magical contrast to be made visible. Cheating in other words. Of course, both Voldemort and Dumbledore had likely been confronted with their true natures at some point in their lives, so it was likely that it was a requirement for becoming a top tier wizard. Adrastia's presence was quite powerful even if she was not a direct combatant for example.

"And you've had such an experience." Tonks stated slowly.

"I'd rather not talk about it." Harry said quickly. There was no way he could bullshit his way through that.

"Right." Tonks said a bit shakily. "Right, is there any other disturbing bit of information that you have to tell me?"

Harry _could_ have told her about his theory that extremely powerful wizards exuded an aura of influence around themselves that subtly turned weaker people that were already predisposed towards looking up to them into loyal and unquestioning followers, see Voldemort's more rabid minions and the Dumbledorian buttlicker brigade headed by Minerva McGonnagal(or possibly Hagrid depending on one's preferences)for proof. However, he suspected that this information would not make the pile of shit he was currently standing in any smaller or less stinky so he kept his mouth firmly shut.

"No, that's it."

Tonks was silent for a good few minutes, chewing over this new and disturbing information. It put a rather sinister slant on their entire relationship even if Harry had stopped doing The Joining as soon as he learned about the side-effects.

She realized that it was going to be impossible to trust him. How was she ever supposed to relax around him with the knowledge that he could rearrange her feelings as he pleased if she did so? It was too subtle to be detected and too insidious to be fought against. With the only defense being distrust, her guard would always be up now.

Tonks could practically see the burning wreck of their relationship looming in the near future, but she really didn't want it to end that way. Which was especially horrible because she didn't even know how much of her feelings for him were manufactured. Was that the reason that she had overlooked his age so easily? She did recall being a little bothered by it at first, but then it kind of faded into unimportance. Was that just natural progression or the result of his meddling?

"I think we should spend some time apart, do some thinking and get some perspective."

Harry simply nodded, unsurprised. The chance that this would end well had always been remote and he fully expected a break-up to be coming soon. He'd been procrastinating for months in the hope that some magical Deus Ex Machina would show up with a crane and lift him from the hole he'd dug, but had realistically been aware that it was about as likely as Snape washing his hair. On the bright side, he was extremely well prepared for the heartbreak. Silver lining and all that.

XXXXX

The Hogwarts staff had gotten used to the fact that Harry Potter only showed up to whichever classes he felt like showing up to, most of which were sixth or seventh year.

That was why they were incredibly surprised when he started attending _all_ the third year classes. He didn't actually do anything during these classes. He merely sat next to Luna Lovegood and stared at the professors with a look that was just shy of being hostile. The only exception was Potions, which he avoided as per his 'agreement' with Snape. He just pulled Luna out of the class instead.

It didn't take the staff long to deduce that he must have correctly figured out the clue for the second task and was pre-emptively making sure that his friend would not be taken.

Normally, this would not pose a problem. They would simply take her from her room. Unfortunately, she slept in Harry's room and in Harry's bed, so that wasn't going to work.

They might have considered taking a different friend...but he didn't have any. The only one that he was even seen talking to aside from Luna was Fleur Delacour, who was a fellow champion and obviously unsuitable as a hostage.

"It's no use, Albus." Minerva said huffily to the venerable Hogwats headmaster. "He watches the girl like a hawk. There are even rumors going around that he goes to the bathroom with her! I tried asking him to leave the classroom so that I could talk to her alone and he told me that I would speak to Ms. Lovegood with him present or not at all! The nerve of the boy! And the look he gave me...I dare say even Severus would be hard pressed to look so menacing. For a moment I thought he would draw his wand on me."

Dumbledore's lips twitched slightly at his deputy's consternation. Seeing her so worked up was amusing in spite of everything.

He supposed they could simply tell Harry that his friend would not be harmed, but that would rather defeat the point of the task. Another option was to attack the two of them while they slept and take Ms. Lovegood by force, but that probably wasn't a good idea. Dumbledore knew a thing or two about powerful wizards and they generally did not respond well to force. The last thing Harry needed was more reasons to follow in Tom's footsteps.

He'd noted the lad's frequent disappearances from Hogwarts and deduced that he was going to visit young Nymphadora. Harry was clearly not the emotionally dead wizard that a young Tom Riddle had been, but he did bear quite a bit of resemblance to a much younger Albus Dumbledore, so the Headmaster treated him as such.

The problem was that Dumbledore could recall quite well how wild he had been at that age and had some trouble finding a way to curb the boy's behavior. At least there was no Gellert Grindelwald analogue around this time to whisper twisted plans into Harry's ears.

Things were simply too _calm_. There was no opportunity to do anything meaningful with Harry as disconnected from the day to day life of the school as he was. At this rate, he would need to simply wait for Harry to become an adult and deal with him accordingly. That was strange, as Dumbledore had been quite sure that Voldemort would have been making waves by now. He had showed up in Harry's first year but been conspicuously quiet ever since. The incident with the diary didn't really count since it hadn't been Voldemort's doing even though it was his Horcrux that was involved.

But that was not the issue right now. The current issue was finding a hostage for the Hogwarts champion to save from the lake.

"If Harry guards Ms. Lovegood too closely, then we need simply look farther afield for an appropriate hostage." Dumbledore said musingly. He already had a perfect candidate in mind.

XXXXX

 _February 23rd._

Harry checked over the scarves and diving masks he had enchanted one last time, making sure that everything was in order.

He had been annoyed when Penny had brought him diving masks instead of swimming goggles like he'd requested. He had specifically asked for swimming goggles because he didn't like the nose covering on the diving masks. Then she had told him that trying to dive past a certain depth without the rubber nose covering would see his eyes being ripped out of their sockets due to the uneven pressure between his eyes and lungs.

It was a good thing that unlike him, Penny read the warning labels and he vowed to do something nice for her. He rather liked his eyeballs where they were.

"Come to bed already, Harry. You have a big day tomorrow." Luna pouted from the bed.

"Coming, coming." Harry said, putting the items down.

He'd noted a few attempts to get Luna away from him, probably to take her as a hostage, but nobody had tried to do anything overt since he was keeping such a close eye on her.

That was good, because Harry was in a foul enough mood these days without having his dearest friend stuffed on the bottom of a freezing cold lake.

He had no word from Dora since their conversation a week and a half ago. The silence was telling and depressing. To make matters worse, his runes were acting up again at the lack of sex and it was making him even more ill-tempered. He'd barely restrained himself from sending Malfoy to the hospital wing the other day for a snide comment that normally wouldn't have even merited any attention.

Luna had remained a bright spot during all this. The absolute(and probably undeserved if Harry was being honest with himself) trust she had in him was a soothing contrast to the disaster that his romantic entanglement had turned into.

He crawled into bed with her and got into the now familiar spooning position. Luna giggled and squirmed as soon as he did so.

"Harry, you really need to shave." She informed him, still giggling.

Yes, he probably should. He had just over a week's worth of facial hair sitting on his jaw, well on its way to becoming a thick black beard. He hadn't been in much of a mood to shave recently despite the looks it was getting him and how easy magic made it. He'd shave it off in the morning.

For now, he rubbed his bristly chin into the back of Luna's neck and held her tightly while she squealed.

XXXXX

 **Man, I am on fire with the update speed recently. Don't be afraid to tell me that I suck ass and should slow down to think a bit more xD.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Beta cookies for Joe Lawyer.**

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Tonks had spent the past ten days thinking about her situation with Harry. She had yet to reach any resolutions.

It had been the best relationship she'd ever had, but the simple fact was that the mere thought of getting into bed with him got her hackles up now. How was she supposed to be comfortable with the idea that only decency was keeping Harry from fiddling about with her soul if she ever relaxed too much around him? Hells, she wouldn't trust _herself_ with that kind of power. She'd certainly been frustrated enough with both past boyfriends and even Harry a few times that it would be tempting, doubly so since it was apparently undetectable.

She almost found herself wishing that Adrastia Zabini had never showed up. She'd been happy then, if a bit frustrated by Harry's secrecy. But that was no way for an auror to be thinking, Moody would have certainly lectured her ear off if she did. Moody would also have tried to haul Harry off to Azkaban if he ever learned about this, not that she had any intention of telling him.

She had come to watch the second task of the tournament in the hopes that some epiphany would illuminate the correct decision. Unlike the first task however, she wasn't here with Penny and Sirius. She was in fact hiding from them. Instead of her usual energetic hair color and style, it fell down to her upper back in coal black waves. Combined with unassuming robes, minor facial alterations and blue eyes, she knew that she was unrecognizable.

Passing the lake on her way to the stands, she had to wonder which genius thought that watching the surface of a lake for an hour would be fun. Probably Bagman. The former quidditch star was well known in certain circles of the Ministry to not think his ideas through very well.

As she was looking for an out of the way spot to sit, she noticed something that put a look of distaste on her face. Or rather someone.

Adrastia Zabini was there, once again dressed far too expensively and looking towards the pier where the two remaining champions were preparing. There was quite a bit of space around her. Coincidence or had she driven people off somehow?

Tonks knew that it was probably a bad idea and she didn't really have any reason to do it, but she made her way towards the woman anyway.

"Looking for your next victim?" She asked coolly as she sat down next to her.

Adrastia looked at the unfamiliar-but-familiar woman who had just sat down next to her with a raised eyebrow, wondering who she was for a moment before she placed the voice and presence.

"Auror Tonks, what a pleasant surprise." She said without a hint of sarcasm.

"Zabini." Tonks returned tersely.

"Did you come to watch Harry compete?" Adrastia asked, pretending that there was no tension in the air.

Tonks grunted an affirmative, inadvertently making a passable imitation of her mentor.

"The venue for this event is terrible. Honestly, why would anyone be interested in watching the surface of a lake for an hour?" Adrastia complained, unknowingly echoing Tonks' earlier thoughts. "But at least I get to see Harry topless, so I suppose there is that."

Tonks ground her teeth together and prevented her hair from shifting.

"Just looking at that chest hair makes me want to run my fingers through it." Adrastia went on in a murmur, somehow contriving to sound like she was licking her lips without actually doing it.

Tonks knew about that particular impulse. Harry did have some very nice chest hair and it was currently visible since he was only wearing swim trunks. Not too coarse or thick, but thick enough that it was more than just a few sad hairs sticking out. It was one of the bigger hints towards the fact that he wasn't just an early bloomer. It wasn't a topic that she wanted to talk to this woman about though. In fact, she didn't want to talk about Harry's chest with anyone right now.

"A bit young for you, isn't he?" She asked snidely and somewhat hypocritically.

"Old enough to be fucking the law." Adrastia drawled with a wide smirk, amused at her double entendre.

"Very funny." Tonks growled.

"Why so sour, Nymphadora?" Adrastia asked, still smirking and deliberately aggravating the Metamorphmagus. "Frustrated?"

"Don't call me that." Tonks ground out, more incensed by the familiarity than the use of her full name for a change.

Unexpectedly, Adrastia gave a resigned sigh. "He told you, didn't he? I suppose I was being too optimistic in thinking that he would listen to me and keep quiet. Why are you here?"

Tonks didn't really know why she had approached Zabini. Maybe out of some vague hope that it would help her resolve the mess that now lay between her and Harry. Maybe because she knew that the woman was a serial killer and couldn't leave it alone. Maybe because she subconsciously blamed her for the problems that she and Harry were having.

"What Harry sees in you I will never understand." Adrastia continued when Tonks didn't say anything. "You are as dull as the rest of the sheep."

"I suppose you think he should be with you then?" The Metamorphmagus retorted scathingly, struggling to control her temper. The murderous bitch was talking to her like she was a small, stupid child. Wordplay had never been her forte, something that was a problem when dealing with razor tongued monsters like Zabini or Malfoy.

"Perhaps for a while." Adrastia replied placidly. "It would be an interesting change of pace to spend time with an equal. There are so few of them in the world and most are quite disagreeable."

"Until you got bored and killed him, right?" Tonks asked sarcastically. She wasn't even going to dignify the woman's sense of superiority with a response.

Adrastia chuckled again. "You do Harry a disservice."

"What?" Tonks asked, not sure what she meant.

"If he was such easy prey, we would not be having this conversation." Adrasta elaborated and leaned closer, her demeanour suddenly taking a dangerous edge. "If he was easy prey, you would be cursing him for abandoning you while I played with him." As quickly as it came, the Italian witch's true nature was once again concealed. "Or perhaps you would never have given him the time of day to begin with."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tonks demanded, not allowing herself to be unnerved by this woman.

Adrastia gave her a condescending sideways glance. "You should be honest with yourself, Nymphadora. Had he been an ordinary fourteen-year-old you would not have been attracted to him in the least. It was a relief to let him take the lead, wasn't it? It is after all the nature of sheep to follow."

Tonks' jaw clenched tightly, streaks of blazing red appearing in her black hair, even her eyes took on an orange tint. The other woman was infuriating and it was exceedingly hard to keep her powers in check. The fact that she was right made it ten times worse. The notion of getting romantically involved with a fourteen-year-old _was_ laughable, but not in Harry's case because he was special. She _had_ liked his take charge attitude and the ability to take the back seat that came with it. A couple of her past attempts at a relationship had been quite stressful because she had needed to be more assertive than she would've liked to keep from having her Metamorph ability taken advantage of. Then there was that one boyfriend that had been so timid that he probably had less personality than Mr. Purple. Harry's easy confidence had been just right, not pushy but also not passive. It had been the first time she was really able to play around with her abilities during sex without feeling like someone else's toy. Harry had ideas and suggestions, but she had never felt humiliated by them or had cause to think that he was annoyed if she refused, nor had he ever asked her to transform into a different woman under the guise of roleplay. And that was all aside from the fact that he was a genuinely great guy.

But she didn't appreciate having that pointed out. Not by anyone and especially not in this manner by this woman.

"It really is too bad that Harry didn't listen to me." Adrastia went on with a sigh. "Telling you hasn't accomplished anything save to cause trouble. No doubt you were happier in your ignorance."

That was also true and another thing that Tonks didn't like having pointed out.

"Unlike you, Harry isn't a heartless monster." She ground out.

Adrastia smirked, recalling that Harry had been fully intending to strangle her to death for the dangerous secrets that Sirius had spilled. "Isn't he?"

"I'm not listening to this." Tonks said suddenly and stood up.

"Give Harry my love when you talk to him." Adrastia said in a cheerful, friendly manner.

Tonks didn't reply and practically stomped off.

The Italian witch chuckled to herself, amused at how riled up the Metamorphmagus had gotten. It was almost too easy really, what with the girl's temper and jumbled feelings. She may have prefered it if Harry had not told her about Sex Magic or The Joining, but it looked as if it would not spread further and there might be some advantages to this too. The obvious trouble between them could open up some possibilities to improve her own standing with the powerful young wizard, though care would have to be taken. However useful an association with Harry Potter would be in the future, she had not merely been taunting the auror when she implied that he was a monster. There were many kinds of monsters in the world, all of them dangerous if you stepped on their toes.

She looked back over the lake, noting that the task had already begun. With an eyeroll at the complete waste of time that the British Ministry of Magic had organized, Adrastia left the premises. At least she'd gotten to talk to Harry's soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend, so it wasn't a total loss.

XXXXX

 _Meanwhile..._

Harry stared at the dark waters of the Black Lake, wondering who they had put under there for him to rescue. Ginny? They weren't close anymore, but she was the only one aside from Luna that came to mind even vaguely. He was closer to Professor Vector, but he doubted they would use a teacher. He really didn't have much in the way of friends in Hogwarts.

He glanced to the side. Fleur looked sexy as hell in her one piece silver bathing suit, especially with the way her nipples were pebbled from the cold. She also looked worried sick. It might be why she'd forgotten that she was a witch and could cast a Warming Charm.

"Who did they take for you?" He asked.

"Gabrielle, I zink. I 'aven't been able to find 'er since yesterday." Fleur replied worriedly.

The veela's answer revealed a flaw in Harry's thinking. He had assumed they would only take people from Hogwarts.

His face twisted into a scowl. Who was under there? He'd seen Penny sit down with Luna earlier, but he hadn't been able to catch sight of Sirius or Dora. He didn't think anyone knew that they were(or had been more likely) together, but he wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to have known.

"'Arry, I know we are opponents, but would you agree to cooperate for zis task?" Fleur sounded as if making the request pained her.

It probably did. Pride was inconvenient like that.

But Harry understood why she felt that she needed to swallow that pride with her sister in danger. Her fire and Light based strength would be severely diminished in the cold, wet Dark. The bottom of a deep lake was no place for a daughter of Sun and Sky.

"Of course." He said with a nod.

Fleur favored him with a grateful, relieved smile.

"Are our champions ready?" Bagman asked loudly, a _Sonorous_ spell amplifying his voice for all to hear.

"Just get on with it." Harry grumbled. He'd been in a bad mood for days now, the last thing he wanted was to listen to more of Bagman's blather or look at the gleeful malice on Umbridge's face. He could practically hear her hoping for both him and Fleur to die in the lake. Even with all other considerations aside, he would have survived just to spite her.

And on the topic of spite, he put another Itching Curse on her. If he had to spend an hour diving in a freezing cold lake to save one of the few people he cared about, then the fat toad could spend it squirming.

It got him another look from Dumbledore, who had no doubt felt it, but Harry had no regrets. The old man must already have a pretty solid idea about his wandless abilities and was too fond of secrets to tell anyone.

"Errr, yes, of course." Bagman stammered. "Well, the task will start on my whistle and the champions have precisely one hour to retrieve what was taken from them. On the count of three then. One...two... _three_!"

Bagman might have been going for a sense of urgency with his countdown, but Harry unhurriedly summoned the items he'd left nearby and put his wand back into its holster on his right arm.

He grabbed the altered diving mask first. The straps had been cut off so as to not get in the way, replaced by a specialized sticking charm placed on the rubber. The clear plastic lenses were also enchanted to keep any gunk from sticking to it and blocking his vision.

The second item was a dark blue scarf, which he tied around his head so that it covered his mouth. He could feel the enchantment on it providing its own air supply and cutting off all external sources.

He looked towards Fleur again. The veela had a Bubblehead Charm active around her head. That would work too, but she had clearly never heard of the old RPG player's axiom; never do with a spell what you can do with magic items.

They nodded at each other and jumped into the water.

XXXXX

 _Elsewhere on the lake shore._

Goran put down the binoculars that he'd been using to observe the mark(and the sexy veela next to him). It was time to get this job done. He'd already scouted the terrain and determined the best time to attack.

According to the information provided by his anonymous client. Potter would need to save someone from the colony of merpeople on the bottom of the lake. Attacking while he was there would be stupid since the fishfaces would probably not react well to that. Best to do it while he was going back up and burdened with an extra body.

He brought out a mouthful of gillyweed and stared at the transformative plant distastefully. He wished he could just use a Bubblehead Charm, but it would be stupid to skimp out on an advantage simply because it was uncomfortable.

XXXXX

Death Eater stooges A, B, C and D prepared for their job somewhat differently than Gojkov...

"Alright lads, let's show Potter and the half-breed whore their place." Stooge A said motivationally when he saw through the omniculars that the champions had begun their task.

The other three gave a cheer of agreement and put on their Death Eater masks, tugging on their matching robes to make sure it all fit properly. Then they cast Bubblehead Charms and jumped into the lake.

XXXXX

Harry looked to see if Fleur was alright after the grindylows were repelled. She gave him an uncharacteristically meek nod and they continued exploring the bottom of the lake.

He imagined that she felt very far out of her element right now. He could feel the darkness and silence of their surroundings pressing in on her the deeper they got. Not the Dark of the Void, but the darkness of a place that never saw sunlight. The Light of his own magic was also diminished, but unlike Fleur, this was no detriment for him. If anything it was an advantage because he would be less prone to emotional responses.

Harry estimated that they had spent just over thirty minutes in the water when the merpeople village came into view. Fleur tried to rush towards it, but Harry grabbed her hand before she could, ignoring her impatient look.

He had also noticed a distinctly human presence lurking among the tall weeds carpeting the muddy lake floor. He waved Fleur to stay back while he took a look at it.

XXXXX

Goran knew something was wrong the moment that Potter stopped and looked directly towards him. He shouldn't have been able to see anything among the tall weeds, but he clearly had.

The boy, who he would have taken for a man if he didn't know better, had his wand out and was obviously expecting trouble. So much for cursing him in the back and being done with it.

He jabbed his wand towards the boy, focusing all of his will on the desire to kill. The bright green beam of the Killing Curse flew from the tip.

Much to his surprise, Potter dodged the slow moving spell as if he'd been expecting it and returned fire with a much faster piercing hex, forcing him to swim away with all the grace his aquatic form granted him. He saw the spell shred the weeds and kick up the mud and knew that it would have been lethal if it had hit him. The boy wasn't playing around.

Goran scowled. He hated it when the client left out important details, such as the fact that the target was more than just some puffed up celebrity brat and was genuinely dangerous.

Well _fine_. It wasn't the first time that he had to actually fight instead of winning with a sneak attack. He couldn't cast another Killing Curse due to the pure focus it required, not without getting perforated by Potter's spells first at any rate, but he was no slouch as a dueler. He'd manage.

XXXXX

Harry jabbed his wand forward several more times, sending more piercing hexes and a few bone breakers at the assassin, only to be frustrated when they were nimbly avoided. The man's presence was definitely that of a wizard, but he looked half fish and swam like one too.

Goran meanwhile was unpleasantly surprised by the ability of his target. Potter's spells were powerful, dangerous and most of all _fast_ , faster than they had any right to be under water. Everyone knew that things moved slower through water than air, spells being no different.

Harry happened to disagree with this bit of 'knowledge'. He had questioned why something that had no mass would be slowed by water and eventually concluded that it was all in the caster's head. They expected the spells to move slower in water, so they did. Conversely, Harry expected them to move normally, so they did.

Fast or not though, gillyweed granted one an absurd amount of mobility in water and Goran had little trouble swimming out of the way and it left him with all the time in the world to send a return volley of deadly spells.

Harry wanted to curse. The spells coming at him might be slower than normal, but so was he. He put up a strong shield to block them, but that just put him on the defensive while the assassin battered at it and whenever he got enough breathing room to return fire, the slippery bastard easily dodged. He needed to try something else.

What though, that was the question. A skilled wizard could reduce the wand motions of most spells to barely anything and Harry was such a wizard, but there were some limits to it. He couldn't cast any cutting curses because trying to make a slashing motions underwater would either take too long or be too small to bother with, not to mention that they would probably get dodged anyway. Anything with a physical component would be slowed by the water and rendered useless. Elemental or area of effect spells would be either impossible, ineffectual or flat out suicidal due to the water. Transfiguration was right out because transfiguring liquids for combat purposes was iffy at the best of times and fell into the category of Very Bad Ideas if you were actually _in_ the liquid when trying it.

That really only left him with some of the more esoteric wandless spells of his own making, and there was exactly one spell in that category that he could cast with enough speed to make it viable.

Goran's eyes widened in shock when he saw Potter thrust out a hand and a trio of dart like spells rushed out from it. What the fuck had he been sent to kill? Seriously, what kind of fourteen-year-old used wandless magic? His shock was even more pronounced when the smallish cluster of spells actually _tracked him_.

A shield was put up and the spells easly blocked, but the Serbian assassin was now thoroughly unnerved.

Seeing the assassin preoccupied with his attack made Harry smile grimly under the scarf he was wearing. Magic Missile for the win. Each of the little force bolts would only do about as much damage as a solid punch and were easy to block, but they were excellent for use as a distraction.

XXXXX

Forgotten by the two combatants, Fleur watched the underwater duel with a sense of frustrated helplessness. Had they been on dry land, she would not have hesitated to fight off this attacker beside Harry.

But they weren't on dry land. They were deep underwater where her magic was pitifully weak and she dreaded the thought of joining the fight in this state. She had nearly become a casualty of that first Killing Curse that Harry had dodged and there had been a few other spells that had whizzed by close enough to drive home the danger of the situation. She knew that any shields she could conjure might well not be up to the task of blocking a spell from the assassin if he turned his attention towards her. She didn't know if she could even cast _any_ kind of useful spell. In a twist of cruel irony, this doubt would only serve to weaken her magic further.

She felt like she was abandoning Harry, but there was no choice. Gabi was still somewhere in the merpeople's village and time was running out. She would just have to hope for the best and hope that Harry won. If he lost, then all she could do was hope to be left alone with her sister and maybe whoever Harry's hostage was, depressing as the thought was. An even grimmer worst case scenario was that none of them would be leaving this lake alive.

Her swim deeper into the village went unimpeded, though there was quite a bit of traffic in the other direction. Fleur had noticed the merpeople gathering to watch the duel happening on the edges of their settlement and figured these were going to gawk as well. No use hoping that they would actually _help_.

It didn't take her long to reach what she assumed was the underwater version of a village square, where she saw the unmistakable sight of her little sister's silvery blonde hair floating around her head. If she wasn't underwater, the sight of her tied to a stake with her skin taking an unhealthy pale green color in the gloomy lighting would have forced Fleur into a veela transformation.

The man next to the eight year old veela had to be Harry's hostage. She remembered seeing them together after the first task. He represented a problem.

Fleur had been so focused on her sister that she had given little thought to anything else. She hadn't even been able to properly appreciate Harry's half naked state back on the pier. Now that Gabrielle was right in front of her and Harry was busy with whoever that wizard was, she realized that saving both hostages was well and truly up to her. That was the problem. Namely, Fleur didn't think she could carry both her sister and Harry's hostage back to the surface.

But she had to try. She felt ashamed enough of the fact that she hadn't even tried to join the fight against the assassin, if she just grabbed her sister and skulked away like some base coward while Harry fought for his life, she'd never be able to live with herself. Aside from the fact that such an action would undoubtedly put an end to any hope of making Harry her mate, he was also a friend.

The two hostages were tied to their respective stakes with tough weeds and it was dishearteningly difficult for Fleur get them free. It took her four casts of a Severing Charm to slice through the weeds, whereas she would normally need to be careful not to overpower it.

The Locomotion Charm she tried to use to get the two unconscious bodies to follow her without needing to be carried fizzled out after mere seconds just like she had feared it would. It had been cast correctly, but she just couldn't muster the power to make it last. Left with no choice, she grabbed her eight-year-old sister with one hand and the thirty-plus looking man in the other and started the slow slog back towards Harry. Being so reliant on someone else burned her pride fiercely, but facts were facts. Swimming to the surface with just her legs while weighed down this much was simply not going to happen.

Ironically, she wasn't stopped from taking Sirius as well by any merpeople because all of them had gone to see the spectacle of two wizards having at each other on the outskirts of their village.

XXXXX

Back with Harry and Goran, both were deeply frustrated. The fight had reached a stalemate that didn't look like it was going to get resolved. The watery battlefield severely restricted their spell selection and reduced their duel to what was essentially a lethal version of laser tag. The only new development had been that Harry had improvised a way to use wandless magic to push himself through the water for short bursts of movement, which just made it so that they were _both_ missing pretty much all of their spells.

Goran was in fact seriously considering just giving up and retreating. He hadn't gotten to the ripe old age of forty-eight in his chosen lifestyle by being stupid and greedy. He'd been promised a lot of gold for this kill, but it was starting to feel like it wasn't worth the risk. There was a swarm of merpeople nearby nervously gripping their tridents, gillyweed didn't last forever, Potter's defense wasn't budging even under some of the darker spells in his repertoire and his offense might become too much to handle if he was reduced to the swimming speed of a regular human. Backing down from a fourteen-year-old wizard grated, but not as much as getting killed by one would.

XXXXX

The Death Eater contingent in the Black Lake had failed to consider a few things when they made their 'plan'. Things such as the effect of water on voluminous robes and how they would find their quarry in the first place. Thus they spent an unnecessarily long time waddling about in the lake like a bunch of particularly inept and confused hippos.

Had it not been for the fact that Harry and Goran's duel was taking place close to the illuminated underwater village, they would have belatedly realized their mistake only by the time that Harry and Fleur were already out of the water.

When they did find their target, they were confused by the duel taking place. Exchanging baffled glances, they made the universal group shrug of thugs that couldn't be bothered to think too hard and went in for the attack. Umbridge had paid them to kill everyone and they certainly had no problem doing that.

XXXXX

Goran had nearly wrestled his pride and greed into submission and decided to retreat when an opportunity showed up. He'd been keeping an eye on the merpeople just in case they decided to attack and saw two blobs of the silver blonde hair characteristic to veela and another unconscious man. The other champion had showed up and she had the hostages. Potter was supposed to be a hero type and hostages were always useful against those.

Dodging around another piercing hex that would have gouged a hole out of his thigh and deflecting two more of those annoying little wandless spells, Goran charged at his new target like a torbedo.

Harry's eyes scrunched in confusion for just a moment before widening in alarm as he saw where the assassin was going. He shot after him desperately, using wandless magic to propel himself as fast as possible.

The merpeople saw the two wizards that had been fighting on their very doorstep charging at them and scattered. Fleur had only just put down her burdens at what she judged was a safe distance from the ongoing duel when she saw that the attacker was going straight at her. Her desperate but weak spells were easly deflected and caused him only a minor delay.

It was enough however to let Harry catch up and crash into assassin before he could grab her. They tumbled into the mud and were immediately engaged in a clumsy and ineffectual grappling match.

Harry had a slight edge due to several factors. For one, he was taller and his runes made him half again as strong as someone of his size and build should be. For another, he had also dropped his wand prior to the collision, knowing that it would be useless at this range.

Despite being a very different sort of wizard from what most British would consider 'normal', Goran still considered his wand to be his most priceless possession and clung to it fiercely, even if any spells he tried to cast at this range would be near useless due to the interference of Harry's own will.

A mere few feet away, Fleur's face developed an angry scowl. She was really starting to hate being the damsel in distress. Before she could join in on the tussle though, she saw yet another problem approaching. Four wizards in black robes and white masks. Voldemort and his Death Eaters had confined most of their activities to Britain, but they were recognizable across all of Europe.

Trying to get either Harry or the assassin to break off their struggle and notice the approaching killers was tough without being able to speak, but they did eventually glance in the direction that she was pointing towards and then did a quick double take to make sure that their eyes weren't deceiving them.

Unfortunately for them, the Death Eaters had closed into spell range by then and, seeing all of their targest more or less in the same place, let loose with blasting curses.

Harry and Goran's eyes both bulged in an identical manner, united in their incredulity. They both recognized that the spells coming towards them were blasting curses, but neither could quite believe the thick skulled stupidity they were seeing.

Harry had researched what spells were good for underwater use and how some of his favorites would react, blasting curses being among them.

Goran didn't do that, but the Balkans had seen quite a bit of war during his lifetime. He had a pretty good idea what underwater explosions were like.

There was a damn good reason why neither one of them had used anything like that despite how frustrating their fight had been. It was just not worth the risk and neither one was willing to experiment with things that might end up blowing up in their face.

All animosity between them was instantly forgotten as they scrambled to save their lives. Goran cast the most powerful shield he could manage. Harry only took a moment to mesh his own magic into the assassin's shield spell, enlarging it to cover all five of them and and specifying what it was to hold back as he did so.

The four slow blasting curses cast by the Death Eaters detonated soon after with a muted boom.

Funny thing about explosions, if they happened in the air, much of their energy was expended to compress it. Water was massively harder to compress and moved _with_ the pressure wave of the explosion rather than absorbing it.

The shield they cast was up to the task of deflecting the pressure wave, leaving the people behind it unscathed.

The Death Eaters were not so fortunate. All of them had been under the mistaken but understandable belief that water would make the explosion weaker, so they had cast with as much power as possible to offset this and didn't for a moment believe themselves to be in any danger at the distance they were at. The pressure wave reached them a few moments after the explosion.

Another difference between air and water explosions was that the power of the compressed air wave was mostly deflected from the human body due to the very different densities. In an underwater explosion, the pressure wave passed through the body and lost very little of its power. When it hit the air-filled pockets inside the body, it instantly compressed the gases in them, blocking blood vessels, rupturing the lungs and intestines, tearing tissue and causing brain hemorrhaging.

The Death Eaters were wizards, so the damage wasn't as severe as physics said it should be, the innate will to survive intrinsic to everything that lived influencing their magic to protect them, but they were still unconscious and in critical condition. The air in their Bubblehead Charms should technically have gotten compressed too, but magic had an unreliable relationship with physics at the best of times, so that didn't happen, nor did their brains start bleeding.

Harry and Goran slowly dropped the shield, glanced at each other, remembered that they were supposed to be killing each other and instantly became as tense as statues.

A pregnant moment passed and then Goran very slowly and very deliberately relaxed.

With equal care, Harry did the same.

Goran gave the man he'd been hired to kill a curt nod and started swimming away, not turning his back until he was well out of range of spellfire. To hell with the money, he was fucking done with this job. The gillyweed would be wearing off soon and he was not going to tangle with the stupidly powerful fourteen-year-old anymore, certainly not after working together with him against the four masked idiots.

Fleur gave Harry a confused look, but he just shook his head, summoned his wand into his hand, cast Locomotion Charms on Sirius and Gabrielle and started swimming back to the surface. He cast another Locomotion Charm on the Death Eater who he judged to be the least damaged, wanting some answers for this clusterfuck.

For the other three, he dispelled their Bubblehead Charms and left them to drown. These Death Eaters all had familiar auras, he'd last seen them the night that Luna's father had been killed and he was not feeling particularly merciful.

XXXXX

On the surface, things were much less exciting.

The public grumbled about how boring the second task was and many left in a huff.

At the judges table, Ludo Bagman fretted nervously as he realized the problem with an underwater event. Next to him, Dolores Umbridge was red faced and sweating, the Itching Curse making her incredibly miserable and short tempered. The only consolation she had was that Potter and the veela abomination would not be coming back from the lake.

That consolation was dashed dramatically when they _did_ come back, and turned into outright horror when she saw the extra in Death Eater paraphelia they brought back with them.

She was not the only one to be horrified, as the terrorist regalia caused the audience to burst into shouting before Dumbledore's _Sonorous_ enhanced voice boomed from nearby and assumed control.

The DMLE was contacted and Dolores Umbridge belatedly realized that she should have used some more discretion when hiring killers.

XXXXX

Surfacing with a knocked out Death Eater had somewhat predictable results. Predictable insofar as chaos can be.

Harry had been given an express checkup by Madam Pomfrey and then hustled along into the headmaster's office, barely even given time to dress. Fleur had been taken aside by Madam Maxime and her family, but he supposed that the aurors would talk to her separately.

So Harry now sat in the headmaster's office alongside his recently awoken godfather, awaiting the arrival of Amelia Bones.

Harry figured that the DMLE director must be quite put out with him. This should really be the job of the head of the Auror Office, Rufus Scrimgeour, but the high profile nature of it meant that it got bumped up to her. The same as the last two incidents that had involved him. Politics.

And high profile this was. The audience had screamed downright cartoonishly at the sight of an unconscious and nearly dead Death Eater. No wonder Voldemort had almost won.

"Harry my boy, what in the world happened in the lake?" Of course it wouldn't be the headmaster's office without the Headmaster, who was obviously fishing for information. He was sitting behind his massive desk in a blatant 'I'm in charge here' move. No doubt it was his numerous titles as well as the fact that he was one of the tournament oraganizers that had allowed him to wheedle his way into an investigation that he technically had no business being part of.

"Let's wait for Madam Bones, I don't want to repeat myself." Harry rebuffed and turned to his godfather. "So how did you end up in the lake, Sirius?"

Dumbledore's face didn't change but Harry got the sense that he wasn't pleased at being denied. That was just too damn bad.

"Dumbledore showed up and said they needed a hostage for you to rescue. I figured it was better me than someone else and I wasn't sure if they'd resort to force if we all refused to come quietly." Sirius explained with a shrug.

Someone else meaning either Penny or Dora no doubt. "Thanks, Sirius. That was surprisingly noble of you."

"What the hell do you mean 'surprisingly'?!" Sirius spluttered.

They continued to bicker good naturedly for the next ten minutes, both taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in ignoring the old wizard sharing the room with them.

At long last, the door opened and admitted the formidable DMLE director. After the pleasantries were exchanged she moved one of Dumbledore's chairs so that it forced him and Sirius to turn their backs on the Headmaster if they wanted to see her. Harry figured that was probably a deliberate move on her part, a sort of 'no, Dumbledore. You aren't in charge, I am'. More politics.

"Alright, start at the beginning and tell me everything." She ordered.

Harry was about to give her a slightly edited version that left out the technical triple homicide he'd committed after the fight was over, but Dumbledore butted in before he could start.

"If Harry is willing, we could watch his memories in my pensieve."

Professor Babbling had mentioned pensieves during their lessons. A very advanced bit of runework and enchanting to make one of those. They were quite rare due to the effort involved in their making and the subsequent high cost of buying one. Harry had been thinking of trying his hand at making one eventually. It would make for an interesting project and you could never have too many magic items.

The suggestion was annoyingly clever of the old man though. It was much harder to give a false memory than lie and he couldn't refuse without looking suspicious. Fortunately, Harry could simply cut off the memory before he canceled the Bubblehead Charms on the other three Death Eaters. Nothing particularly sensitive had happened before then.

"Sure."

Occlumency made it fairly easy to segment the piece of memory he wanted to extract and soon all four of them were observing it.

"How did you know he was hiding there?" Bones asked when she saw him dodge the opening Killing Curse.

"Something just felt off." Harry shrugged. He was just thankful that the memory didn't show his Magesight, though that was interesting in and of itself. He surmised that it was because Magesight was actually a bit of a misnomer. He wasn't seeing the magic with his eyes, but with his mind. It only appeared to him as a visual manifestation because it was the easiest way for his mind to show him such an abstract concept.

"He's using gillyweed." Bones said in surprise.

"What's that?" Harry asked. It sounded like it had something to do with Herbology, a subject that had never interested him overmuch.

"Gillyweed is a transformative plant that grows in certain parts of the Medditeranean Sea. By ingesting it, one takes on aspects of an aquatic creature, such as gills and fins, as well as gaining superior underwater vision. It is believed to have been used in rituals dedicated to Poseidon in Ancient Greece and there is speculation that it led to the creation of the merpeople, as that is when mentions of them first appear." Dumbledore explained, his inner educator shining through for a moment.

"That explains why the bastard was so fast." Harry muttered.

"Why didn't either of you use a more wide area spell?" Sirius asked in confusion, seeing the stalemated duel.

"Wait for it." Was all Harry had to say in response.

"Impressive use of wandless magic, Harry." Dumbledore complimented when that part came up. He didn't seem at all surprised. "Might I ask what kind of spell that is? I've never seen the like of it."

"Magic Missile, an Evocation spell of the First Circle." Harry answered drolly.

All three were curious and wanted to know more, but he wasn't going to tell them that he was ripping of Dungeons & Dragons for inspiration.

"Bastard." Sirius said a few minutes later when the assassin saw Fleur and rushed at her, but then grinned when Harry barreled into the man.

"Here it comes." Harry commented dryly.

"There were _four_ of them?" Sirius said incredulously when the Death Eaters arrived.

"Yep."

"Oh dear." Dumbledore sighed a moment later when all four Death Eaters fired off their blasting curses. He obviously knew what was going to happen.

"Well, that would explain the condition of the one you brought back with you. The preliminary report I got from the healer was that he looked like he'd been torn apart from the inside." Bones said dryly. To his surprise, Harry felt a flash of grim satisfaction from her at seeing the fates of the Death Eaters. Somebody was hiding some pretty strong hatred under that paragon of law veneer.

"Huh, I didn't expect that one to just leave." Sirius said when the memory moved into the last part, where Harry and the assassin had silently decided to put an end to the hostilities.

"Shared danger can make for some unexpected allies." Dumbledore said sagely.

"Or it could be that the gillyweed was about to wear off and he knew he'd be at a disadvantage." Bones pointed out cynically.

"It could be." Dumbledore admitted as the memory ended, moving on to the next question. "Why did you only bring back one?"

"The others were already dead." Harry shrugged uncaringly. All four of them had been dead ever since they cost Luna her father. It had only been a matter of when he next ran into them and informed them of that fact.

"How could you tell?" Bones asked skeptically.

"Trust me, I could tell." Harry replied unhelpfully.

The look this got him from the DMLE director made it clear that she didn't believe a word of it, but had to accept it because proving it would be impossible. Harry also suspected that she didn't care enough about a few Death Eaters to really dig into it either.

"Well, this task has certainly been more exciting than it was supposed to be." Dumbledore sighed again.

"You don't say?" Sirius asked sarcastically.

"Maybe I should register myself at the Ministry as a Resistomurdermagus with all the failed assassination attempts lately." Harry mused, making his godfather snicker.

"You're definitely being targeted." Bones admitted. "These were obviously two separate attempts, almost certainly by two separate people or groups. And the one you brought back has been identified as Royston Welch, a known associate of the group that attacked you during the Quidditch World Cup. I'd be willing to bet that the three you left in the lake will be the same."

"Do you think you'll be able to get the name of the instigator out of him?" Harry asked.

"Probably not." The DMLE director admitted in frustration. "We'll investigate of course, but I doubt they'd be stupid enough to have talked to them in person, and even if they did would have probably used a Memory Charm to cover their tracks."

"Pity." Harry said. He would have liked to have taken care of whoever wanted him dead personally. The archaic rules that governed the Tri-Wizard Tournament allowed a champion some pretty broad self-defense privileges. Killing someone for an infraction like this was well within them and would have served as a poignant message to stop fucking with him. "What about the other one?"

"I don't recognize him, but I'll make inquiries. I could arrange an auror guard for you while we investigate this."

Not that long ago, Harry would have jumped at the chance to request a certain Metamorphmagus to be given the task of protecting him. She'd have to stay in his room of course, to make sure that nobody tried to kill him in his sleep. In fact, it would be safest if she slept in his bed too.

But that was before. The thought of having his girlfriend(ex-girlfriend?) around all the time with their current situation wasn't really appealing. He could already imagine the awkward silences and stilted conversations.

The thought of having an _actual_ auror guard wasn't even considered. It would drive him up the wall to have one or two of those around all the time.

"Thank you for the offer, Madam Bones, but I don't think that'll be necessary. Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain after all." And if there was a trace of sarcasm in his voice, then nobody called him out on it.

XXXXX

 _The evening of the same day._

Harry was on the Astronomy Tower again, staring at the sky and thinking. He wished it wasn't cloudy so that he could see the Void, the Darkness Between the Stars.

Ever since he had killed those Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup, he had suspected that it was influencing his mind. Now he was certain of it.

All of the runes carved on his head were made to touch his mind in one way or another, and so they did. The raging touch of the Sun was easy to detect, there was no subtlety to it, it simply magnified all his passions. The more he drew on the Sun, the worse it got.

The Void was different, insidious and sneaky. He still wasn't sure about the full extent its influence on his mind and soul, but some things he knew for sure. It muted his emotions and pushed him to kill, to send it more souls. No wonder the dementors were the way they were, lost completely to the Dark.

He had killed three people today and felt only satisfaction. Quite a bit of that was because of Luna no doubt, but he had dispelled those Bubblehead Charms with barely a thought. No remorse and no mercy.

Perhaps strangely, this didn't bother him. He had done all the soul searching over it that he cared to already. The idea that there was some primordial magical entity pushing him to be more ruthless was honestly more disconcerting, though even that wasn't too scary now that he had identified it. The Void was, in essence, nothing. Who feared nothing? He still had full control of his faculties and could make his own choices. If he was going to be more inclined to kill his enemies than spare them, then so be it. It had yet to steer him wrong and the notion of killing being wrong was just an abstract concept pushed by society anyway.

"'Arry?"

"Fleur." He said back without turning around. He had sensed the veela's distinctive aura before she had spoken. "Did you come here for the view?"

" _Non_ , I was looking for you." She replied and moved to stand beside him. Then she shivered inside the heavy robe she was wearing as a particularly cold gust of wind passed by. "Are you not cold?"

That was a fair enough question since Harry was only wearing a T-shirt and it was winter in northern Scotland.

"A little." He admitted. "But I've always liked my weather to be on the colder side." The fact that he could use his magic to regulate internal body temperature played no small part in allowing him to enjoy the chilly wind without being uncomfortable. It had certainly made swimming in the lake less unpleasant.

"You are mad." Fleur declared with authority, making him chuckle.

"What did you need me for?"

"I wanted to zank you." She said quietly, suddenly much more subdued. "For 'elping me in the lake. I could not 'ave done it wizzout you."

"There wouldn't have been assassins in the water without me either." Harry pointed out.

"Zen ze grindylows would 'ave defeated me." Fleur retorted with a bitter undertone. "I would still 'ave failed to zave Gabi."

"She wasn't in any real danger." Harry shrugged, finding this less prideful version of Fleur kind of strange.

"We didn't know zat." She refuted and continued sternly. "Now stop protesting and let me zank you."

"Alright, thank away." Harry said in amusement and turned to face her.

That was all the invitation Fleur needed. She stepped forward and hugged him, making sure to press as much of herself against him as possible.

" _Merci_ , 'Arry, for zaving Gabi and protecting me." She said, perhaps a bit more breathily than strictly necessary, and pressed a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"You're welcome." Harry replied, not particularly surprised by the way she had chosen to express her thanks. He'd long since caught on to what she was offering, though he _was_ surprised by her patience. He'd never heard of a woman that would be willing to keep at it this long without any success, but maybe it was different for veela.

Fleur lingered in the embrace for a few seconds more and only took a step back when it was on the edge of becoming more than just a friendly hug. His magic felt cold again, but it didn't seem as threatening as it did months ago and the surprising warmth of his body made for a nice contrast.

"You know, Gabi was disappointed zat she didn't get to talk you." She said, moving on to the real purpose of this meeting.

"Why would she want to talk me?" Harry asked in confusion. He was no stranger to people wanting to meet him by now, but he hadn't thought that he was a particularly big deal outside of Magical Britain.

"I told 'er what 'appened in the lake and how you protected both 'er and me. You are 'er new 'ero now." Fleur told him, amused. She didn't mention that her parents also wanted to meet him. She had written to her mother about her intentions towards Harry in the hope that she would have some advice to improve her chances of snagging him for herself. Her mother had been intrigued about the man that had caught Fleur's attention and her father worried about his little princess already picking out a husband for herself. Either way, they wanted to meet Harry and get the measure of him.

Fleur herself was wary of letting that happen. Her constant hints and subtle invitations were as much to let him know that she was available as they were to gauge the status of his current relationship without being crass and outright asking. His continued refusal to act on any of those hints or invitations told her that it was probably still persisting, though she had noticed that he seemed moodier lately. If Harry's relationship with this Nymphadora woman was finally collapsing then the last thing she wanted to do was scare him off by introducing him to her parents.

"Ah, I see." Harry said with a wry nod, subconsciously puffing out his chest a bit. People practically worshiping the ground he walked on because of Voldemort's defeat had been bewildering, but getting praised for something he'd actually done did send his ego on an upward climb.

" _Oui_ , she was most insistent zat I was to invite you to our 'ome in France for the summer." She said, noting his reaction with amusement. Fleur wasn't even making it up, Gabrielle really had insisted that she invite Harry to spend the summer with them, though it was entirely possible that their mother may have planted the idea in her head.

"Your sister sounds like an officious little thing." Harry commented, also amused.

Fleur gave an unrestrained laugh at that rather accurate description. "You 'ave no idea, she 'as been ordering people around since she 'as been able to talk. I used to get terribly annoyed by eet when I was younger."

Her laughter made Harry smile. It was a beautiful sound and it also had a hint of magic in it, though he doubted she was aware of that. "I've never liked bossy people, but I'm sure I could make an exception for your sister."

"You don't 'ave to worry, our mozzer 'as managed to teach 'er enough manners to make 'er zound cute instead of annoying." Fleur assured him.

"Well that's a load off my mind." Harry joked wryly.

There was a moment of silence before Fleur decided he needed a prompt. "Zo...would you like to visit France over ze summer? You could bring Luna and Nymphadora wizz you and I could show you what a proper magical country eez like." She hoped that his girlfriend wouldn't be an issue anymore by that point, but she couldn't exclude her from the invitation without coming off as petty and manipulative.

Harry's smile faltered despite her amusing little poke at magical Britain and he sighed, turning to stare back at the sky.

"'Arry? What eez wrong?" Fleur asked nervously, worried that she had stepped too far.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out. "Nothing much really."

"Eet does not zound like nozzing." She ventured carefully.

Harry shrugged before deciding that he might as well tell her. He had tried talking to Luna about the problems that he and Dora were having, but for all of her qualities, his best friend was not the person you went to if you wanted understanding in this sort of situation. Luna could have the most remarkable insights into the truth of things, but grasping why Dora might be upset with him right now escaped her.

"I told Dora about the Joining ten days ago. She said that she needed time to think and hasn't spoken to me since."

Fleur winced. Veela were expressly warned to never, under any circumstances, tell anyone about the Joining. They could tell their chosen partner only once the process was finished. Veela did not truly consider themselves married until the man(or occasional woman) they picked for themselves was so hopelessly in love with them that there was no risk of betrayal. Gabrielle too would be given this warning once puberty hit and the cravings in her awoke. It had to be this way, or else their existence would never be tolerated by the suspicious humans that they needed to mate with. Nobody wanted to go back to the bad old days.

"She doesn't know that the Joining is in any way connected to veela in case you were worried about that." Harry added dispassionately.

That did actually make Fleur feel a lot better, but she focused on the part about his girlfriend troubles.

"I am zorry to hear zat." She said, doing her best to sound commiserating instead of pleased.

Harry wasn't fooled but chose not to mention it. Fleur had made it clear what she wanted and Harry figured that if he had a girl that he wanted and she was taken, he would also be happy to hear that she was about to become single. Getting upset with people for having their own desires would be silly. "Can't be helped I suppose. How do veela deal with this issue?"

"We find someone we like and decide zat we will stay wizz zem for ze rest of our lives." Fleur answered quietly.

"So you don't deal with it, you just go ahead and do what I almost did to Dora." Harry said cynically.

"We need wizards to continue our species." She defended.

Harry gave a tired sigh at that. "An acceptable evil then? I suppose there are worse fates in the world than being magically addicted to a supernaturally beautiful woman."

Fleur didn't really have anything to say to that.

"Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been better if I had just stayed quiet and continued performing the Joining." Harry continued musingly. "Everything seemed to be going so well for us back then."

But Harry could never bring himself to do that. As soon as he'd learned about the Joining from Adrastia, he had started identifying discrepancies in Dora's behavior.

She used to get a bit jealous if she heard that some girl or other wanted to get into his pants, but that had slowly petered out over time. She had become more patient and less willful with him. Yes, things had been good, but Dora had undeniably slowly been changing according to his preferences, just like Adrastia said.

Harry's upbringing had left him much more cynical and willing to do morally ambiguous things than most people and then there was his dabbling with Light and Dark, Pettigrew's accidental murder, the killing of those Death Eaters at the World Cup, the deal with Adrastia and now the latest debacle from this morning...suffice to say that his moral fiber had acquired quite a bit of necessary flexibility. Something like this though...changing a woman to suit him better...that he simply wasn't comfortable with.

"My fazzer is a 'appy man " Fleur said almost reluctantly.

"I'm sure he is." Harry chuckled, genuinely amused. The question wasn't whether he was happy now, but if he would have chosen the life he now had before Fleur's mother had worked him over.

"You do not want to spend ze summer in France zen?" She asked unhappily, going back to the question that he had never answered. In her eagerness to get Harry for herself, she had forgotten to consider that his opinion on veela might sour or that he may not be interested even if he was single.

Harry stayed quiet for a few long moments before he answered. "Ask me again some other time. I'm not in the mood to be thinking of vacation right now."

Fleur gave him a relieved smile and agreed. It wasn't what she had been hoping for but it was better than what she had been afraid of.

XXXXX

Tonks detested guard duty. It was boring as hell and no amount of shapeshifting helped to get rid of the ache in her legs from standing in one spot for so long. Even healing spells didn't work. It made her wonder whether the ache was all in her head.

She wasn't alone in suffering this onerous duty, but John Dawlish was an arse and didn't count as good company.

The irony of being assigned to guard the Death Eater that had tried to assassinate Harry earlier in the day wasn't lost on her. She had stomped away from that event due to a mixture of frustration with Zabini and a belief that it would be boring only to end up here.

According to Bones, it could take as long as a week before the bastard was in any shape to be interrogated. His insides were apparently such a mess that he'd been minutes away from dying when Harry had hauled him out of the water.

That meant that she had more guard duty to look forward to. Joy.

It was giving her plenty of time to think about what she was going to do about her relationship with Harry at least. She had always gotten frustrated with it before and found something to distract herself with. No such luxuries when on guard duty.

The hours of her shift ticked by with glacial slowness and Tonks finally decided what she had to do. She would call Harry on the mirror he'd given her tomorrow and ask him to come over.

XXXXX

 _The next day._

Harry pulled at his T-shirt and rolled his shoulders. Then he sighed and looked at Luna.

"Well, I'm off to get dumped." Dora had finally called and said they needed to talk. Those words carried plenty of dread in them as it was, but her tone had also been grim enough to make it clear what was waiting for him once he got there.

"I don't understand." Luna said. "You were happy together, why would Nymphadora dump you?"

"People generally don't like having their souls manipulated." Harry sighed again. He'd noticed that he was doing a lot of sighing lately.

Luna scrunched her eyebrows at him, obviously not understanding. She just didn't see what the problem was. To her mind, if you trusted someone enough to let them in, then the Joining of Souls wasn't manipulation but an expression of love and trust. Maybe she was right, but Harry was of the opinion that it only worked in that kind of fairy tale fashion of it was performed by both parties. What he had been doing with Dora had been horribly skewed in his favor.

XXXXX

Harry ran his fingers over Dora's naked back and frowned in thought. Things had not gone as expected.

As soon as he had showed up at her apartment, she had pulled him into a kiss and proceeded to drag him into the bedroom. Normally he'd take this as a good thing, but she had been tense the whole time. Her soul had remained guarded even during orgasm. If she hadn't seemed so determined that this was going to happen, he would have stopped.

"This isn't going to work." Tonks sighed after a few minutes of silence.

"It was just a test then?" In that context, everything made sense.

"Yeah." She said lamely. "I had to see if I could relax. Sorry."

"It's okay."

They lapsed into silence for another few minutes before she got up and started getting dressed. Harry followed suit in awkward silence. Once they were done, they looked at each other and shifted. Awkwardly.

"So..."

"Yeah..."

More awkward silence ensued.

Harry gave an irritated sigh and rubbed at his forehead. This was pretty much exactly what he had imagined things would be like now. Dora was right. This wasn't going to work, not with that big 'sorry I accidentally performed Soul Magic on you. Oh, and I could do it again and you'd never know it' hanging between them. "I guess I can consider myself dumped?"

A flash of guilt passed over Tonks' face, but she nodded all the same. "I'm sorry. I just...can't."

"It's okay." Harry repeated. "I figured it was going to end this way. Heh, you were out of my league anyway."

She gave a weak smile at that and decided to go along with his attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "Says the guy with a veela throwing herself at him."

He had told her about Fleur and her hints, not to mention that _Witch Weekly_ and _Teen Witch Weekly_ had been speculating about his love life for months now. Even the _Daily Prophet_ had gotten in on it in the aftermath of the Yule Ball, despite supposedly being a respectable newspaper and not a tabloid. Fleur and Luna were the most common choices, though there were also a few runner ups among his fangirls for some reason.

"I'd rank a sexy auror Metamorphmagus above a veela." Harry countered, almost able to feel as the awkwardness diminished.

"I guess I am pretty amazing." Tonks agreed, puffing out her chest and giving herself an extra cup size for emphasis.

"Yeah, you are." He nodded. "And not just because you have adjustable boobs."

Her smile was stronger and more genuine this time and she held out her hand. "Friends?"

Harry ignored the hand and went in for a hug instead. She made a brief sound of surprise but hugged him back anyway.

Harry kept holding on far past the point when most hugs would have ended, knowing that once he let go it would be over between them.

"Take care of yourself, Nymphadora." He said eventually.

"On account of the circumstances, I'll forgive you for using my full name just this once." She mumbled.

"You're so generous." He mumbled back.

"And don't you forget it."

"I'll see you around, Nymphadora."

"Thin ice, Harry."

He smiled and let go. All things considered, it could have been worse. There had been no angry accusations or screaming and they were still on good terms, but it still felt as if he had lost something beautiful and it hurt.

XXXXX

Dolores Umbridge knew that she was in trouble. That captured Death Eater would squeal as soon as Bones put the pressure on him, something which was slated to happen any day now.

She hadn't known that the man had been one of Voldemort's followers, nor did she care. What she cared about was that Bones would come down on her like a ton of bricks as soon as she had an excuse. The muggle loving bitch never did have any sense of priorities. Who cared if she had tried to have Potter killed? He was just a disgusting halfblood.

Unfortunately for Umbridge, Bones would care and there was nothing she could do about it. The Death Eater was being held in the DMLE's private infirmary under twenty-four hour guard. As both the Senior Undersecretary and acting head of the DIMC, Umbridge could go to a lot of places, but that wasn't one of them. Even if she could, she wouldn't have the privacy to silence him. She lamented her lack of talent with the Imperious right now. What good was the Cruciatus in this situation? None, that's what.

Cornelius might have been able to protect her even from this, but not when Wizarding World's darling was involved. Harry bloody Potter, the Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die. She had relied on the Minister's protection for years now while she cleaned up the Ministry, but she hadn't forgotten the lessons learned on her way to the top. If you had nobody to protect you, then suck up to someone until you did. If there was nobody powerful enough to suck up to, then you kept your head down.

Perhaps it was time to take a vacation? Just until things settled down a bit.

XXXXX

 **The chapter was delayed because of reasons. Mostly because the fight scene in the lake was giving me some trouble.**

 **The next one will probably be out sooner. Laters.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Many thanks go to Joe Lawyer for his invaluable help in tweaking important details.**

XXXXX

"There has to be some mistake." Fudge fretted, worrying at his bowler hat.

"There's no mistake." Amelia Bones said uncompromisingly. "Welch identified Dolores Umbridge as the one who hired him and his friends to kill Harry Potter, Fleur Delacour and both of their hostages during the second task."

"It had to be someone using Polyjuice, it just had to!" Fudge insisted stubbornly. If it got out that his Senior Undersecretary had plotted the murder of the Boy-Who-Lived, he'd be finished.

"It could be." Amelia allowed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at Fudge's terror of bad publicity. "But then explain why Umbridge vanished for parts unknown three days ago."

"She's just taking some time off." Fudge blustered. "She's working two jobs you know!"

"Seems pretty strange for a woman with two jobs to take indefinite leave." Amelia said, struggling mightily to keep the sarcasm from her voice. "Especially with this tournament going on."

"Nonsense." Fudge blustered some more, sweat running down his neck as he tried to make excuses for Umbridge. "I can handle myself without my undersecretary for a while and young Percy shows a lot of promise."

" _Percy Weasley_ is in charge of the DIMC?!" Amelia demanded, completely unable to hide her incredulity. "You put a wet behind the ears Hogwarts graduate in charge of one of our most important departments?!"

"No." Fudge denied indignantly. "Dolores did. He's her assistant and the natural choice to take over while she gets some rest on her vacation. It'll be a valuable learning experience for him."

Amelia had to resist the urge to throttle the fat lump of stupidity that was Cornelius Oswald Fudge. Percy Weasley was an eighteen-year-old brat with a far too generous opinion of himself and in no way qualified to be the head of _any_ department, much less the DIMC. She wouldn't be surprised if he started a war with Bulgaria over cauldron bottom thickness or something equally stupid.

"Minister, you have to see that this is untenable." She tried a different tack. "Just recall Umbridge and we can get to the bottom of this."

"NO!" Fudge snapped. If he let Bones get to the bottom of anything that his Senior Undersecretary was involved with, she was sure to find some 'evidence' of wrongdoing. He was well aware of the hostility between the two women. "Dolores Umbridge is a valued member of the Ministry of Magic and would not have a hand in trying to kill Harry Potter! I don't want you digging into this any more, Amelia!"

The head of the DMLE left the Minister's office foul tempered and furious. Fudge could say whatever he wanted, but she was going to have aurors keeping an eye out for the pink clad bitch regardless. She'd been hoping for years to get something to pin on Umbridge and wasn't letting the chance pass her by so easily.

XXXXX

Somewhat to his own surprise, Harry did not feel terribly depressed after his break up with Dora. He had expected it to happen and there was no shock when it finally did. All told, his mood did not sink much lower than it had been since he had told her about the Joining. At the very least the situation was resolved and they were still friends, which was honestly more than he had been hoping for.

The means by which Dora had tested if it could still work between them had served to aleviate some of the tension he'd been feeling, but it crept back by the following week.

For the first time since he had carved them, Harry resented his runes. He was simply not in the mood to have sex and – admittedly somewhat petulantly – wanted to sulk for a while. A particular saying came to mind as a good description of the situation, namely 'the spirit is willing, but the flesh is not'. Except that in his case, it was inverted and became 'the spirit is unwilling, but the flesh didn't give a shit'.

Harry sometimes wondered if he hadn't inadvertently given himself a very mild form of Persistent Sexual Arousal Syndrome. Most of the symptoms fit, except for the part where masturbation offered only minimal relief, which he put down to the fact that his problem was half physical and half magical.

Either way, he was not in the mood to do anything about it just yet. He decided to use the situation to perform a bit of an experiment instead.

He had noticed that his fangirls had become bolder with their offers in the lead up to his and Dora's break up and had eased off a bit right after. He hadn't paid too much attention to it at first, but it didn't take long for his curiousity to become piqued. If nothing else, it made for a good distraction.

He started randomly attending classes that he knew his fangirls to be in and sitting next to them, wanting to see what they would do.

As he had half suspected would happen, they got continually bolder as the days passed. At first, they would just smile widely, entirely too happy over the simple fact that he was sitting next to them. But as time went on and the slow boil of his own lust worsened, their behavior changed. Inviting smiles and smouldering looks turned to more physical expressions. They would lean in to him to ask a question or drop a hand on his thigh. It wasn't long before the first blatant offer of a good time in a broom cupboard came.

He didn't limit himself to just the Hogwarts girls either, but also deliberately sat next to some of the Beauxbatons ones during meals to see if they would be the same. They were, though it was rarer.

The changes were much less pronounced in the younger girls. Parvati and Lavender were still at the stage of lip biting and breathy longing looks by the time that most of the seventh years had progressed to the point of being physical whenever possible.

Harry had no choice but to conclude that he was indeed broadcasting a sort of magical 'need sex, looking for girl' signal. His own rising lust problem must have leaked into his aura and was attracting females in the same way that an animal might use pheromones.

Considering recent events, he might have been upset by this, but his testing had managed to conclude that it was only affecting the ones that were already interested and not planting any foreign desires into the girls. That was very good, because Harry really did not want to deal with the moral quandary that he'd be placed in if it was otherwise. That one Ravenclaw sixth year guy that had also been hinting at sexual interest had actually put him at ease. Harry was straight as a board and certainly would not have been soliciting gay sex, either consciously or subconsciously, which meant that he was only emboldening people that already wanted to get into his pants rather than anything more sinister.

There were only two outliers in his tests that he couldn't quite pin down: Luna and Fleur.

He knew that Luna was sexually interested, she had flat out told him so. Curiously, her behavior didn't change just as it hadn't before. He didn't know if this was a consequence of the Joining or if it was because of the promise she had made to her father. He knew how much it meant to her, so it could be either one. That wasn't mentioning that she was quirky enough to throw off his tests even without that being factored in.

Fleur had already been pretty blatant in her interest, making it impossible to say if her lack of reaction was due to her veela heritage or if she simply couldn't get any more obvious without shoving her tongue down his throat. Once again, it could be either one.

It was an interesting experiment that told him he certainly wouldn't be lacking in girls willing to help him relieve stress when he inevitably stopped being stubborn and gave in. By the point that he figured all this out, he was refusing to take one of them or Fleur to bed more for the sake of curiousity than sadness from the break up. He wondered if it was similar to a veela's Allure and what it would push the girls to do over time.

So focused was he on this new project that the situation he currently found himself in had blindsided him completely.

He was in one of his bi-weekly Arithmancy lessons with Professor Vector, nothing unusual there. What was unusual was that her chair was so close to his that their legs were touching and she pressed her breasts into his arm whenever she needed to point something out on the paper they had on the desk between them.

He had vaguely noticed that the teacher he'd been having detention fantasies about for over a year now had been slightly more frazzled lately but hadn't paid it much mind. In this latest lesson though, she had slowly gravitated ever closer until she was pressed into him and her presence was now radiating a desire to jump his bones.

That was...unexpected. Vector hadn't been considered a test subject for this little project. He'd never had even a hint of an idea that she had any thoughts in that direction, she had always been the perfect picture of professionalism. His best guess was that she had been hiding it and his lust soaked aura had worn away her restraint over time.

"You're not paying attention, Harry." The professor in question chided gently, leaning in close and pointing at the equation he had written down. "This is all wrong, if you tried to set up a ward like this it would collapse within hours."

Well of course he wasn't paying attention. Not only was the teacher he'd wanted to boff for so long nearly draped over him, but he also hadn't had any sex in three weeks and was long past the point of being only slightly distracted.

Should he go for it though, that was the question. It was plainly obvious to him that he was going to need to pick a girl or three for the purposes of stress relief or else become unable to think of anything but sex, but he also didn't want to jump into another relationship. Breaking up with Dora may not have sent him spiralling into a depression worthy of a thrashy romance novel, but he wasn't eager to jump back into a commitment again either.

In that respect, Vector would be perfect. She was a sweet, quiet, demure woman and utterly uninteresting as anything other a MILF. He didn't see himself having a relationship with any woman so 'settled' in life even if she had been closer to his age and without the whole teacher-student thing getting in the way.

The reasons not to sleep with her essentially boiled down to potential awkwardness between them.

"I'm sorry, Professor." Harry said, deciding on a course of action by placing his hand on her thigh. He would only be in Hogwarts for a few more months anyway, so even the worst case scenario wasn't that bad and Septima Vector really was a very hot lady. "I've been a bit distracted lately."

Septima froze and then flushed as she felt his hand creeping up her leg. She was not proud of it, but she was terribly attracted to her young student. He had been a cute, if somewhat awkward kid when they had started with these private lessons, but had grown up far too quickly into a very handsome man. Getting invited to dance with him during the Yule Ball and seeing him in nothing but swim trunks for the second task hadn't helped at all. She was embarrassed by her own behavior lately, but touching him just felt so good. Besides, it wasn't like she was going to do anything more than that, so it was alright. He was almost like her apprentice anyway and it was a well known dirty little secret that masters or mistresses of their craft often took advantage of their apprentices. She was being quite decent really.

Then his hand gripped her thigh and Septima found herself feeling not very decent at all.

"Harry..." She tried to say, not even sure whether she was going to protest or encourage him. It was a moot point in any case because he cut her off with a kiss.

She knew that she really should protest where this was going, but it felt so good that she kept delaying for just a second longer and then for another when that second passed. Before she knew it, Septima found herself sitting in his lap.

Finally, he broke the kiss and moved on to paying attention to her neck. It didn't help improve her resistance any, but it did free up her mouth for talking.

"Harry...we should...stop." She breathed out with no conviction whatsoever. "The rules..."

"I won't tell anyone if you won't." Harry said and went back to nibbling on her neck. His hand slid upwards across her stomach to fondle a breast through her robe.

"But..." She tried again, for no other purpose than to appease the fading voice of reason. The libido was firmly in the lead and leaving reason in the dust.

"Fuck the rules." Harry growled and stood up, taking the professor with him. The chairs went clattering backwards and a negligent wave of his hand had the clutter on the desk following suit.

As she was pushed to bend over the desk and had her robes hiked up, Septima decided that rules were overrated. Here was a strong, handsome, powerful young man that could have any number of women but wanted an old woman like her and his assertive approach was much more appealing than rules. The life of a Hogwarts teacher could get very lonely what with living in the castle all the time and having only the holidays to dedicate to one's personal life. Not to mention that she had always been the quintessential Ravenclaw bookworm with poor social skills.

There had been other students that she had found attractive but had never worked up the nerve to act on it even in their last days of schooling when she could have gotten away with it. Having Harry take the decision out of her hands suited her just fine.

Harry noticed her acceptance of the situation and smiled in anticipation as he pulled down her panties. Her lower lips were already glistening wetly and he didn't hesitate to lean in and run his tongue across them. Her gasp encouraged him further and he was soon licking her vigourously. With her bent over the desk and him squatting behind her, his tongue couldn't quite reach her clitoris, so he applied his fingers to it. There was a particular spell he had developed during his time with Dora that had always proven to be a big hit with the sexy Metamorphmagus and he intended to make full use of it here as well.

Septima was perfectly happy to let him do whatever he wanted while she lay on the desk and enjoyed herself. A quiet whine of disappointment left her throat when his tongue and fingers retreated from her tingling groin, but the sound of a clinking belt buckle put an end to that. The realization that her fourteen-year-old student's member was in all likelihood being pointed at her dripping fanny at this very moment saw reason make a last ditch attempt to get her to protest, but it was quickly silenced when she felt the head of it being rubbed against her labia. No, the time for protesting was long past.

She felt herself being penetrated a moment later and couldn't hold back a gasp of pleasure as the large male member slowly slid into her, filling and stretching something that hadn't seen use in far too many years to think about. Her legs shook from the sensations wracking her body once he was sheathed all the way inside her.

Harry waited like that for a few more seconds, hiking her robes up even further over her rump so that he could grab hold of her thighs without it trying to slide back down. The spell he had placed over her clitoris that forged a sensation link between it and his member had turned out a bit _too_ effective. He could tell that she was very close to orgasming already.

When she wiggled against him impatiently he knew that delaying any longer was not an option though. Screw it, so they wouldn't reach climax at the same time. He planned for both of them to have plenty anyway, so it was all good.

A ragged cry of pleasure escaped her throat as he pulled out almost completely and then hilted himself back into her. Her groin felt it was on fire and it got more intense with every thrust. By the fifth one she was crying out loudly as a powerful orgasm wracked her body, leaving her helpless to do anything but hold on to the desk and ride it out.

Harry paid no heed to her climax and only sped up his thrusting, his own lust getting the better of him. Not half a minute after her orgasm, he was groaning as his seed spurted up her vaginal tunnel.

Sweaty and satisfied, Septime confirmed her earlier thought about rules being overrated. Sure, she'd be in some trouble with the law if it got out that she'd had sex with a student, but it was very had to care about that when her legs felt like jelly and she had a handsome young wizard panting behind her with his cock and sperm filling her.

She let out a small groan as he leaned over her to whisper into her ear.

"Ready for round two?"

Septima's eyes widened. Round two?! What the hell did he mean round two? She could barely move after round one.

Then he pulled out and rammed himself back in and the Arithmancy professor belatedly realized that he hadn't gone soft and was apparently not finished with her.

XXXXX

 _Later._

Taking deep breaths, Harry pulled out of his favorite teacher with a groan. The sight of her shuddering backside, pubic hair matted with sweat and sperm with streams of both running down her legs to soil her shoes and the panties still around her ankles had him seriously contemplating having another go at her. The refusal of his equipment to get up again put an end to that idea though.

Instead he cast a light healing spell on Septima's groin to soothe any aches that might be present there, followed by the ever useful contraceptive charm. He left the mess where it was though, rather liking the sight of what he'd done to her.

She didn't move aside from taking deep, gasping breaths as he moved around the desk to stand in front of her. Septima was not a particularly powerful witch, either in magic or personality and with her soul laid bare to him her submissive bent was plainly obvious. She had enjoyed evey moment of his control over her. That in addition to the pretty picture of her exhausted satisfaction gave him a naughty idea.

He threaded his fingers through her sweat soaked black hair as he spoke. "You left quite a mess on me, Professor. You should clean it up."

To his delight, she didn't hesitate to shift forward a bit and take his wrung out member into her mouth, tiredly cleaning off the mess on it. Oh yes, they would definitely be having a lot of fun together for the next few months.

"I'll see you at our next lesson, Professor." He whispered into her ear once she was done, grinning at the shiver that passed through her body.

XXXXX

Luna was reading on the bed when Harry was finished bathing. She looked up at him when he exited the bathroom, blinked, cocked her head and asked a question.

"Who did you have sex with?"

"What makes you think I had sex with anyone?" Harry asked back, bemused.

"You haven't really relaxed since you broke up with Nymphadora, before that even, but you're relaxed now." She informed him factually.

 _Too damn perceptive._ Luna always managed to see right through him.

"It was Professor Vector." If there was anyone that could be trusted to know that it was her.

Luna's smile widened. "I'm so happy for you. I know you've wanted to put your penis in her vagina for a long time now."

"Yes, It was very nice." Harry agreed with a nod. Not so much because Septima had been great in bed, as the Arithmancy professor had turned out to be surprisingly submissive and passive, but there was something to be said for fulfilling one's naughty teacher fantasies.

"Are you going to do it again?"

"Oh yes." The sense of power as he bent a woman nearly three decades his senior – a woman that supposedly had authority over him – over her own desk also had quite a bit of appeal, so there would definitely be repeat performances.

"Good, Nymphadora wouldn't have wanted you moping over her."

With their amicable break up, Harry figured that was true. On the other hand, if they had parted on bad terms, she would have wanted him to get buggered by a troll. Dora had a well hidden mean streak that didn't come out to play too often.

XXXXX

Septima Vector was a nervous wreck when the time came for her next Arithmancy lesson with Harry. She half expected him to tear her robes off and take her right there on the floor.

She was ashamed to admit to herself that she was disappointed when he didn't and instead listened attentively as she went over the finer points of setting up a ward properly. He was her student and only fourteen to boot...but the way he had taken her a few days ago and made her 'clean' him afterwards had given her a thrill like nothing she'd ever felt before. She'd never been the type to go for something like that, which was exactly what made it so exciting.

The hours passed with no hint of what had happened between them and a strange feeling of loss grew inside her chest. Nothing so corny as unrequited love, because however good Harry might look, he was far too young for her. She was just...sad to go back to the dull routine of her life.

Their time was nearly up when his hand gripped her leg again and startled her.

"Why so jumpy, Professor?" He asked teasingly.

"Harry, I'm not sure we should be doing this." Septima nearly stammered. His hand was slowly kneading her thigh and thoroughly wrecking her composure.

"Doing what?"

"You know...sleeping together." The last was said in an embarrassed whisper, as if afraid that someone would hear even through the sound proof door.

"Why not?"

"Harry, I'm a _teacher_. I could be sacked if it got out that I'm sleeping with a student. Besides, I'm sure there are plenty of younger girls out there for you, you don't have to settle for an old woman." The protest felt hollow to her ears, but she felt that she had to make it for the sake of her job. The insecurity was real enough though.

"You're hardly old, I like to think of you as 'sexily mature'." Harry scoffed, still sounding amused.

Septima ducked her head in embarrassment, not really believing him but flattered nonetheless.

"As for you getting sacked...well, like I said the last time, I won't tell anyone if you won't. I thought we could have a bit of fun since we've got this time all to ourselves, but if you don't want to..." He trailed off and made to leave.

Septima grabbed his hand to stop him without even thinking about it. Damnit all, she had spent the past few days practicing how she would firmly tell him that it could never happen again but that had all gone out the window almost as soon as he walked through the door. It had been so long since she'd had anything in her life except teaching bratty and often ungrateful teenagers about Arithmancy and correcting the mistakes in their homework, with any kind of excitement seeming to become more distant with every year.

It was a terrible idea on paper but a naughty affair with her favorite student would break up the monotony and it was simply too tempting to pass up. And it wasn't as if she would be jeopardizing his education since he clearly meant for this to happen after the lessons. It could almost be considered a reward for his hard work really...and for hers.

"No..." She whispered, blood rushing to her face in embarrassment. "Please...I want to."

"That's what I thought." He said with a small smirk and pulled her out of the chair and into his arms. His hand went under her robes and gently cupped her pubic mound, where he discovered something that made his eyebrows shoot towards his hairline. "You shaved. Is that for me?"

Septima flushed even further. She had been embarrassed about how hairy and untended her groin had been the last time and had maybe kind of, sort of secretly been hoping that he wouldn't take no for an answer. She could only keep her eyes fixed on her feet and nod, face ablaze.

"I know just the way to show you how much I appreciate it..."

XXXXX

With his sexual equilibrium – and therefore his ability to think clearly – restored, Harry found that there were quite a few errands that needed to be done which he had been neglecting.

"Alright, we're here." Sirius announced as he, Penny and Harry arrived in front of the Black Vault in Gringotts. "Why are we here?"

"I need something from the vault obviously." Harry replied dryly, waiting as the doors slid open.

"What?" The Marauder asked.

"I'll know it when I see it."

"But you've gotta have _some_ idea of what you're looking for?" Sirius pressed.

"I do." Harry replied.

Sirius waited for his godson to elaborate, but he didn't.

"Alright fine, be that way. Penny, why are you here?"

"Harry wants me along to check if there's anything worth selling down here." Penny explained.

"Ah." Sirius nodded. Who knew that his family's tacky garbage would be worth something to eccentric muggles? It took all kinds he supposed.

"How much have we made from that so far anyway?" Harry asked as they moved into the vault.

"Just under two hundred thousand pounds, but we haven't sold everything yet." She answered promptly.

"Very nice." Harry said admiringly. That was some serious money and it was well out of the reach of the greedy fingers of the goblins. It was currently sitting in a bank account that Penny had opened for exactly that purpose. of course, this meant that the money was _technically_ completely under her control and he wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it if she decided to make off with it, but she had never given him any cause to doubt her integrity. Not to mention that he didn't think that Penny was anywhere near stupid enough to make an enemy out of him by pulling a stunt like that. It would be safe in her keeping until he was a legal adult in the mundane world. It was a better solution than getting his foster parents involved at least.

"Turns out that antique furniture kept in mint condition by spells is in high demand." Penny replied wryly. The people at Christie's had certainly been impressed by it. The original idea of selling it over eBay had turned out to be unworkable because of the figures involved, but furniture and the like was fortunately not scrutinized too closely. Her explanation of representing a noble family that had fallen on hard times and needed to sell things off but also wanted to remain anonymous had been easily accepted. "I'm actually kind of disturbed at how quickly that torture paraphelia we found in the basement sold."

"I hope it ends up in some nutjob's BDSM playroom." Sirius muttered.

"I should not have introduced you to the internet." Harry sighed.

"You shut your whore mouth." Sirius said with a scowl. "The internet is a magical place."

"Uh huh." Was the disinterested reply from his godson, who was already poking through the piles of gold and centuries worth of junk.

Penny and Sirius were left with little to do since it definitely wasn't safe to touch anything if you didn't know what it was and only Harry could tell whether an item was cursed or just enchanted. They busied themselves by casting various detection spells on random stuff, but neither were curse-breakers, so it was more to pass the time on the off chance that they encountered something interesting.

"Huh..." Harry said to himself holding up a thin rapier and squinting at the blade.

"Good choice, it suits your girlish figure." Sirius complimented.

"I was more interested in the spellwork on this thing..." Harry said absently, obviously not really paying attention. "Looks like some kind of Bloodletting Curse that prevents blood from clotting."

"Thinking about bleeding people to death?" Sirius asked.

"Nope, it was just an interesting enchantment." Not only was the blade on the damn thing too long, but it would also be a warm day in the eighth plane of Baator before Harry would use a weapon as emasculating as a rapier.

"So you're looking for a dagger?" Sirius asked, seeing that Harry was now examining a collection of shiny implements of murder.

"Pretty much."

"Why didn't you just say so when I asked the first time?" Sirius demanded indignantly.

"Because you'd just blab it to the first pair of tits that asks." Harry shot back mercilessly.

"Are you never going to let that go?" Sirius asked in exasperation. You get seduced by a serial killer once and they never let you forget it.

"No." Harry said petulantly.

"Fine!" Sirius pouted. "So why'd you need a knife?"

"Because my fight with that assassin during the second task would have been a lot simpler if I could have simply stabbed him." Of course, he could have also tried to conjure something to stab him with, but conjuration was a difficult enough feat to pull off even when someone isn't trying to kill you. And he'd also forgotten.

"See anything you like?"

"Hrrrm, maybe..." Harry answered distractedly as he peered at the collection of knives.

A couple were ritual blades which was a big no-no. Those were designed to channel the magic of the stabbed or cut individual and could inadvertently have all sorts of unpredictable effects if used in combat. Certainly not something that could be used for a casual stabbing.

A few others looked promising though.

The wavy kris with some kind of weird animation enchantment that looked as if it was supposed to make the blade move like a serpent was a definite possibility, though it didn't look terribly practical. He didn't want the blade getting away from him.

The rest had more normal straight blades of varying lengths. One was cursed rather heavily and would turn against its wielder, another had the same Bloodletting Curse on it as the rapier, still another looked like it had a Rotting Curse attached to it, very Morgul Blade that one.

"Man, Sirius. Your family was into some nasty shit." Harry said with a shake of his head after he spied a dagger whose only purpose seemed to be drinking in blood through the blade and squirting it out through the eye sockets of the miniature human skull carved into the pommel. What the fuck would you even need that for?

"I know, why'd you think me and Andi ran away? The whole damn family was cracked."

"Andi and I." Harry corrected, knowing it would stick in his godfather's craw.

"Grammar Nazi." Sirius grumbled, using a phrase he had learned from his godson.

"Too bad there's no hammers in here." Harry smirked and turned back to the daggers. "Well hello. And what are you doing under there?"

"What?" Sirius asked, looking to see what had caught his godson's eye.

Harry carefully removed what seemed to be an iron buckler that was cursed to crush its user's forearm and grabbed the hilt of another exotic knife that had been under it.

"Now this, I like." Harry said admiringly, turning over the medium sized kukri.

"What's it do?" Sirius asked curiously.

"It's a knife Sirius, it makes people bleed when you stab or slice them with it." Harry said snidely.

"I know that, smartass." Sirius rolled his eyes. "I mean, what is it enchanted with?"

"Nothing." Harry chirped.

"Nothing?" Sirius repeated.

"Nothing." Harry confirmed.

"I thought you wanted a magical knife?"

"I did, but all the ones here are way over the top and could kill me, take off a finger or even a limb if I nick myself by accident. I'll just enchant this one by myself and be done with it. Nothing too fancy; durability, built in summoning, nasty electric shock or burn to unauthorised users. That kind of thing."

"That makes sense." Sirius had to admit that he hadn't thought of that. He was just glad that his godson was being careful for once.

"Hey, Penny. You done?" Harry called over to the other side of the vault where his steward had been doing her own thing.

"Almost." She yelled back.

"What in the name of Merlin's wrinkly nutsack is _that_?" Sirius asked, staring at a twisted black octopus looking thing that the former Head Girl had found somewhere.

" _That_ is an antique chandelier."

"Are you sure anyone is going to want to buy that?" Harry asked, staring dubiously at the cast iron monstrosity. It only had a powerful durability enchantment on it, that would be simple enough to remove, but it also looked as if it would need an exorcism to purge the spirit of Cthulhu from it before they could sell it.

"I've noticed a trend that the freakier something looks, the faster it gets sold." Penny explained.

Both Harry and Sirius were still doubtful, but were later forced to put up with her smug looks as it was sold in less than a week.

XXXXX

The kukri thudded into the wood, quite a bit off target. A moment later it was pulled out and returned to Harry's hand.

He threw it again. It hit slightly closer to the target this time. It flew back to his hand and was thrown again, landing very close to the bull's eye this time.

"That was a good one." Luna complimented.

"More luck than skill I'm afraid." Harry said ruefully. Knife throwing wasn't something you picked up in a day. At least the enchantments on it prevented it from hitting hilt first though. "How are you doing?"

He was trying to teach Luna the basics of wandless magic, with limited results so far. He had some trouble figuring out where to start.

"Not good." She pouted. "I just can't get it to move."

"Show me." Harry ordered.

Luna nodded and sat down to stare at the quill she had on the table in front of her. A look of concentration came over her as she tried to make it budge, but it remained stubbornly still.

"See? It's not working."

"You're just trying to will it to move." Harry diagnosed.

Luna cocked her head at him quizzically, obviously asking what else she was supposed to do.

Harry scratched at his chin as he tried to find a way to explain things to his friend.

"Will is good, it's a start and might do something if you're desperate enough, but it'll be uncontrolled and unreliable. You have to make a sort of...mental construct of what you want to happen. I'm sorry, this isn't really helping you, is it?" He sighed.

"Not really." Luna admitted bluntly.

Harry chuckled at her directness, but was inwardly stumped at how to convey his meaning to her. Without an ability to feel magic, all his explanations were just so much hot air.

"Show me one again and walk me through it." She said, looking at him expectantly.

"Alright." He nodded.

Bringing his hands together and focusing on the spell to manifest between them, he began talking her through the process. "First, you need to know what you want to do. The spell I'm casting right now is called Darkness, an Evocation of the Second Circle. It will create a sphere of supernatural shadow that no light can pierce. In order to create it, I have to specify its radius and point of origin or else it would just fizzle out and do nothing. I also need to have a good understanding of the concept of completely lightless dark before I can cast it. I spent over three hours sitting in the Room of Requirement sealed off from every source of light before I managed it. This mental construct of what you want to happen is essentially what a spell is before you put any magic into it. Of course, just willing the world to darken won't do anything. That's where the magic comes in, you have to infuse it into the spell so that you can then superimpose it over physical reality."

With his explanation finished, he cast the spell and the room went pitch black. Harry felt Luna nervously groping for his hand and dismissed it.

"Just throwing magic behind your willpower is more like controlled Accidental Magic." He went on with his explanation, neglecting to mention that he had spent years doing just that or that he still did it when he didn't have time to think. "Accidental Magic...well, it's like throwing a tantrum and having the Universe give in because it doesn't want to listen to your shit anymore. That's why it generally only happens to children or people under extreme emotional duress. It tends to be wild and unpredictable and controlling it is very hard. It will also give you a splitting headache more commonly known as magical exhaustion because you're essentially trying to bully the natural order of the world into submission instead of creating a temporary localized state of altered reality. To summon the quill, all you need to do is imagine a tether connecting it to your hand and triggering it. Remember that the tether itself is not like a rope, but more of a pathway of your own personal reality where the laws of physics do not exist, the only law that exists is that the quill must come to your hand."

Luna nodded thoughtfully and refocused on the quill. Five minutes later it still hadn't budged.

"You're still trying to move it with your will instead of your magic." Harry told her.

"But how am I supposed to use my magic without my wand? I can't feel it." Luna said plaintively.

"A wand is just a focus, a tool that allows you to draw on your magic without needing to really work for it. It is also a crutch that makes your thinking rigid and inflexible if you allow yourself to believe that it's necessary. With how refined they've become and all this wand motion shite that is being peddled these days, people barely need to think in order to cast spells. Overreliance on wands has made wizards dull, stupid and lazy." He lectured sternly.

Luna's face took on the look of a kicked puppy at the frustration that had leaked into his tone towards the end and he rushed to reassure her.

"Sorry, that wasn't aimed at you." He apologized, distantly aware that she had him wrapped around her little finger. "Look, how about we try something else. You form the spell and I'll try to pour magic into it."

"Okay." Luna chirped, happy again. She refocused on the quill and imaged a zig-zaggy path that the quill was supposed to take as it flew towards her hand while Harry settled himself behind her.

"Do you have it? Remember to keep in mind the rule, the quill _must_ come to your hand. There is no gravity to hold it down or air resistance to hold it back, there is only your hand and the quill." Harry whispered into her ear, his chest pressed into her back.

She nodded, never taking her eyes off the piece of stationery.

Harry slowly overlaid his magic on her's, being careful to _not_ think of summoning the quill. Nothing happened, so he continued to extend his magic deeper into her, well past the point where any normal person would have instinctively shut him out.

Luna relaxed against him.

"Keep your focus." He warned, making her jerk a bit as she realized that her concentration had slipped at the sudden wash of comfort. She re-established the zig-zaggy path that she wanted the quill to follow.

A few minutes later, the quill shivered and zipped into Luna's hand in a zig-zag pattern.

"I felt that!" She exclaimed happily.

"That's great, well done." Harry complimented.

"Maybe I'll be able to do the spell myself now." She beamed happily.

"Maybe, I want you to practice tomorrow while I take care of a few errands."

"What kind of errands?"

"Mostly just inviting extra people along for our summer holiday."

"Isn't it rude to invite people to Fleur's home without asking her first?"

"I've decided not to take her up on that, not yet anyway. Besides, she's in her final year in Beauxbatons and we're leaving Hogwarts once this tournament is finished, so nothing is stopping us from going to France after we get back from the Caribbean."

"Okay."

XXXXX

"Harry, I wasn't expecting you." Penny said in surprise when she saw him walk into the living room at Potter Manor.

"Of course not, I didn't tell you I'd be coming." He quipped.

She rolled her eyes at the lame attempt at humor and decided to get to the point. "So, what's up?"

"Three things. First, I need the address where Bryanna and Tiana are currently living." He'd never bothered to ask about that before.

"Planning to pay them a visit?" Penny asked as she wrote it down for him.

"Sort of." He shrugged. "Next, do you still have that list of businesses that are qualified to work with basilisk hide?"

"Of course, it's in my office." She answered, getting slightly confused now.

"Good, I'll probably need that someday soon. Finally, would you like to join Sirius, Luna and me on that private island that he keeps boasting about?"

"I'd love to, Harry, but I already promised my parents that I'd go with them." Penny said regretfully.

"You could invite them to the island instead." Harry shrugged. "I doubt we'll be short on space and I was planning on inviting the girls too in any case. Just don't tell them where the island is, I want to keep that a secret."

Penny's eyes widened at the offer and she quickly accepted. She already knew that her parents would jump on the offer. A free vacation on a private island in the Caribbean would certainly appeal to them a lot more than having to pay quite a lot to go somewhere in Britain, though the secrecy Harry wanted would take some convincing.

XXXXX

 _I'd never have expected them to be living in a place like this._ Harry thought to himself as he walked at a leisurely pace through the town of Arundel in the South Downs of West Sussex, a name that sounded naggingly familiar for some reason. He let it go after ten minutes of fruitlessly trying to recall where he had heard the name before.

Bryanna and Tiana had always struck him as being more of a city-girl sort, so this quaint little place was a bit of a surprise. Still, it may not have been their first choice to live here since Penny had told him that any purchases of real estate had to be done through the Ministry of Magic because they had a list of places where wizards and witches could settle, the controlling bastards. Arundel was only forty-nine miles away from London, so maybe they'd just picked the closest place.

It was a nice looking house they were in though. Located on the outskirts and comfortably big without being overly lavish. The relative remoteness of it probably spawned all sorts of rumors about what four young women might be getting up to, having no apparent jobs and living all by themselves. Come to think of it, seeing a single man going into the house was probably not going to douse those rumors any.

To his mild shock, the house actually seemed to have electrical wiring if the doorbell was any indication. Apparently there were a few people in the Ministry that were actually capable of subtlety. Amazing, he'd been ready to believe that it was staffed almost entirely by inbred morons with drool dribbling from their chins.

"Coming!" Came the muffled yell from inside as he rang the bell.

"Harry?" Bryanna asked in near disbelief, clearly having not expected to see him. Her hair was a bit longer than he remembered it being and she was dressed in a perfectly ordinary hoodie and sweatpants combo. The casual look rather suited her actually.

"Hi." Harry said with a smile. "Mind if I come in?"

"Please." She smiled back and waved him in, taking a surreptitious look outside as she closed the door.

"Problem?" He asked, amused by her behavior.

"Not really." She replied, sounding a bit annoyed nonetheless. "Someone's been spreading weird rumors about us."

"Depraved lesbian group sex?" Harry guessed, biting his lip.

"You only just got here! How can you know about that already?" Bryanna demanded.

"I had a trio of grannies craning their necks after me so much I half expected them to topple from the terrace they were on." Harry explained, trying not to laugh. "I'm sorry, but I think you might become known as some kind of exclusive sex club before five o' clock."

"That's not funny, you arse." She huffed and slapped his arm.

"I could put an Aversion Ward on the house. It would make people think you were the most boring thing this town has seen since paint drying." He offered. That was the easiest ward of all to cast, not even requiring an anchor. It also wouldn't cause enough interference to mess up the electrical wiring of the house.

"Tone it down to just 'not worth spreading rumors about' and it would be perfect." She said with a relieved sigh. "We tried to do it ourselves but we're crap at those and accidentally ended up making it so powerful that people kept getting stuck in conversation loops about whether the house was always there or not and forgetting that we lived in it. But do tell what you're here for first, I get the feeling it isn't a social call."

"It's not." Harry confirmed. "I come bearing a request and an offer."

"Well color me interested." Bryana said flirtatiously. "Come on down to the basement, that's where we've got our workshop."

The stairs down were hidden behind a heavy oak door that was spelled up to the gills with Aversion Charms, both magical and muggle. The basement itself was much larger than the house above it, having dimensions more suitable for a warehouse. It was well lit however, with a set of skylights that illuminated it with faux sunlight. He could tell that it wasn't real sunlight, but it was a pretty good imitation. A specially modified _Lumos_ if he wasn't mistaken.

"Very nice." Harry complimented as she led him through the half-filled space.

"Glad you like it. The skylights cost us almost as much as the space expansion, but it's made it less gloomy down here."

"You're making some interesting stuff." He noted, looking at a rather provocative corset.

"That one is a bit of a pet project of mine." She admitted sheepishly. "I've always liked what corsets do to a girl's figure, but the damn things tend to be either too loose or too tight. I'm trying to see if magic can turn them into something that will stay put but isn't a torture device at the same time."

Harry reached out to touch it and the laces in the back tightened so hard that he could hear the plastic mannequin it was sitting on cracking.

"Self-lacing charm." Bryanna explained lamely. "It's a work in progress."

"Maybe you'll model it for me one day." Harry suggested with a small grin.

"Maybe I will." She flirted.

"Bry, is that you?" Another familiar female voice yelled from in the distance.

"Yeah, it's me." Bryanna hollered back. "And guess what? Harry came to visit us."

Tiana walked into view, also looking far more casual than Harry had ever seen her with her brown curls in a sloppy ponytail.

"Harry, do what do we owe the pleasure?" She purred in greeting.

"I have a request and an offer for you girls." He repeated and then frowned. "But the other two should be here for this too. Where are they?"

"On dates actually. Isabel is still together with her Hogwarts sweetheart and Jade got suckered into going out with one of the local boys." Tiana explained.

"Probably hoping to get invited to the 'orgies'." Bryanna muttered sarcastically.

"And they left you two all alone?" He asked mournfully, secretly probing to see if his own meddling with their souls was to blame. "No dates for the prettier half of the group?"

Bryanna and Tiana laughed, obviously delighted by the compliment. "We work in shifts and they just happen to have this time off. And no, no dates for us. There just hasn't been anyone interesting enough to catch our attention, not that we've had time to look in the first place."

"And we have each other if we get frisky." Tiana added salaciously. "But you know that you're welcome to join us anytime, don't you, Harry?"

"That might actually be relevant for my offer." He admitted.

Their eyebrows shot towards their hairlines and they leaned in with great interest. "Do tell."

"The request first." Harry said. "Penny tells me that you've been dabbling with an attempt to make a sort of robe that can pass as muggle wear at need. I want you to design something like that for me made out of basilisk hide."

Bryanna and Tiana leaned back with stunned expressions. "Harry, we appreciate the vote of confidence but we're not qualified to work with basilisk hide! We'd just ruin it."

"I know, that's why I only want you to design it. I've looked over at the designs the various hide workers are offering and wasn't impressed. Basilisk hide is so rare that nobody has had any to work with in centuries and dragon hide behaves more like bloody iron plates than leather. They just don't have what I'm looking for, which is why I want you to sketch out a robe that could pass as a long coat but that can be closed by something more than buttons when I need it to act as armor."

"Alright, that we can do." They nodded thoughtfully and quickly developed identical devious grins. "You know what that means, Harry?"

"What?" He asked with mild apprehension.

"It means we need to get your measurements, so strip down to your undies and stand on that pedestal over there."

Harry strongly suspected that they didn't need him to be near naked to measure him for an outer garment like that. In fact, he strongly suspected that they didn't need to measure him at all since they wouldn't be the ones making the final product, but he went along with it anyway. Getting goosed for a while by two beautiful women really wasn't such a terrible thing.

"Oh my, Tonks sure is a lucky girl." Tiana muttered, taking in the changes to Harry since the last time she'd seen him naked. He had grown up quite a bit during their final year in Hogwarts, but the past few months had seen him move out of the stage of gangly teenagerhood and into the territory of yummy adult maleness. If he'd looked like this when the plan to seduce him had been hatched, they would've been fighting to jump into bed with him instead of using it as a last resort.

To their surprise, Harry sighed. "It didn't work out between me and Tonks I'm afraid."

"We're sorry to hear that." Bryanna said sympathetically, inwardly already plotting the best way to get him into bed. She and Tiana had a good arrangement going between them and toys could make up for the lack of male sex organs to a considerable extent with magic involved, but that line of hair leading to a tented pair of boxers was looking simply delicious.

"It happens." He shrugged philosophically. "Serves me right for declaring that I want to stay single and then jumping into a serious relationship right afterwards."

"What went wrong?" Tiana asked, writing down values as the enchanted tape measure hovered in the air over his right leg.

"Nothing specific, we just drifted apart." Harry lied.

"Why don't you tell us about this offer you had for us?" Bryanna suggested.

"Sirius' family apparently swiped a whole island for themselves a few hundred years back and we're going to spend at least part of the summer on it. Aside from me, Sirius and Luna, Penny and her folks are also going to be there and I figured that the four of you might enjoy a vacation on a tropical island." He explained, mood picking up quickly.

"A tropical island?" They nearly squeaked, the task of measuring him forgotten for the moment. "Where is this island?"

"That's a secret." He teased.

"Harry!" They whined in protest.

"Seriously though, it really is a secret. I'd be willing to let Isabel bring that boyfriend of hers, but Jade's muggle boytoy is out of the question. We'd get there by portkey and you wouldn't be allowed to go too far away from the island, but other than that it would be weeks or even a whole month of sun, sand and sea with house elf service included."

Harry frowned at the end of his explanation and looked at the mess around him thoughtfully. "Speaking of house elves, would you like to borrow mine? I've wanted to do something nice for them for a while and the only thing they ever seem to want is more work, so it would be perfect for everybody."

Both girls had just been thinking that the secrecy was a small price to pay in exchange for vacationing on a tropical island with Harry while being pampered by his house elves, but then he just had to offer to remove all need for cleaning and cooking from their home.

Tiana snapped the tape measure together with a note of finality. "I'm sorry if you were hoping to be done with this quickly, Harry, but you're not. Drop the underwear."

Harry looked at her with a raised eyebrow, seeing Bryanna nodding in agreement out of the corner of his eye. There was really only one thing to say to that.

"Well if you insist..."

XXXXX

 _Meanwhile in Hogwarts..._

Fleur was a bit bemused as she was led by the hand towards Harry's personal quarters by Luna.

Harry had pulled another one of his disappearing acts today. She'd been keeping an eye out for him and hadn't seen hide nor hair of him. Even Luna had been notably absent all the way until lunch.

She was well aware that the rumor mill was of the opinion that the two of them were having sex and took these disappearances as 'proof', but Fleur knew better. Those two wouldn't be getting sticky together until the promise Luna made to her deceased father expired. She personally thought that it was stupid of the man to impose his worries on the girl, especially with the sort of liberal relationship he'd had with his wife, but would never say it out loud. It was rude to speak ill of the dead.

Still, even if Harry wasn't having sex with the quirky blond, he was cleary doing it with _someone_. The way that the tension was suddenly absent from him was proof enough of that. The problem was that this someone wasn't her and that seriously burned the veela's pride. She'd all but thrown her panties at him and then he went to someone else. Most men would kill to get this kind of attention from her, but no, not Harry Potter. If she wasn't sure that he would eventually be worth all this bother she would've written him off as either gay or stupid already.

She also had the feeling that he had been avoiding her lately and she didn't know why, but she was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Of course, that would require actually _finding_ him, which had proved problematic. But Luna had showed up to eat lunch in the Great Hall and Fleur hadn't wasted any time in asking the smaller blonde for a private conversation, which was how she found herself being led by the hand.

When they finally reached the room on the sixth floor, it was not what Fleur expected. People tended to imprint their personality into their living space over time by means of various decorations or the clutter they left lying around. There were a few hints of Luna lying around, but it was otherwise completely bare. No artwork, no tapestries, no knick-knacks...even the bookshelves and desk were empty. It looked like Harry was living out of his luggage.

"What did you want to talk about?" Luna asked as she plopped herself on the bed, which was one of the few splashes of color in the room.

"'Arry." Fleur said directly, also sitting down on the bed. "Why 'as 'e been avoiding me?"

"Oh, I expect that he probably doesn't know what to do about you now that he's single and having sex with women other than Nymphadora again."

 _That was easy._

"Zey 'ave broken up zen?" She asked just to be sure.

"Oh yes, it was terribly sad." Luna replied. "Nymphadora can't bring herself to relax now that she knows about the Joining and Harry isn't putting up a fight because he feels responsible. Both of them are being dummies about it."

While Fleur was glad for Luna's refreshingly unconcerned attitude towards the Joining, she knew that this Nymphadora's response was positively tame compared to how most people would react in a similar situation.

"But why didn't 'e..." Fleur trailed off, realizing how pathetic it would sound to finish that sentence.

"Why didn't he come to you?" Luna finished it for her anyway, getting a stiff nod from the veela. "I don't know. You'd have to ask him that."

"I would if only 'e would stop avoiding me." Fleur groused.

"You can wait for him here." Luna offered. "He should've been back already, but I guess he ended up having sex with Bryanna and Tiana."

"...'Oo?" Fleur asked blankly, wondering if there were yet more women to compete against.

"Two business partners with nice boobies. Harry used to play with them at least once a week last year."

Fleur really wasn't sure what to say to that, but at least it sounded as if this was just casual sex and not a relationship. "I will wait for 'im 'ere zen. _Merci_."

"You're welcome."

There were a few moments of silence...well not really silence because Luna was humming something, but there was no talking. Then it was broken.

"Oh, I just had an idea!" Luna exclaimed. "Do you want to paint each other's toenails? I heard that girlfriends do that for each other and I'm sure it applies to harem buddies too."

"But we are not in a 'arem togezzer." Fleur felt compelled to point out.

"But you want us to be and I want us to be, which only leaves Harry and he's much too sensitive about his masculinity to get his toenails painted." Luna counter argued.

The warped logic was strangely persuasive even if the moon brained girl hadn't gotten it 100% correct. Fleur did not, strictly speaking, _want_ Luna in a harem with her, but she was quite sure that attempting to separate her from Harry could only end in tears(and possibly blood considering the events of the second task), probably her own, so she had accepted that Luna was there to stay.

The fact that she genuinely liked her and hadn't had a proper girlfriend for years also played some small part in shaping Fleur's answer.

"Let me just 'op over to the Beauxbatons carriages, you British don't know 'ow to make proper nail polish."

XXXXX

After extricating himself from the clutches of two lusty females and making use of their shower, Harry had decided to fly to London in his raven form and spend some time in an internet café catching up to stuff that he had missed in the normal world over the past couple of months. Magic was great and he wouldn't trade it for anything, but he did miss technology sometimes. Not being especially politically inclined, he ended up spending most of his time reading about the recently video games that he was probably never going to get around to playing. It was hard to get excited about the newest fantasy game when you could throw your own fireballs. Or if the bloated cancerous mass known as Electronic Arts had reached out from the Pit of Inescapable Mediocrity with its slimy tentacles and used them to repeatedly violate any good idea that wandered into reach until said good idea was left more abused and ruined than a top of the line sex doll shared between fifteen people.

By the time that he got back to Hogwarts, the sun was already setting and he was eager to see if Luna had been able to repeat the feat of wandless summoning that they had done together yesterday.

The sight that greeted him upon opening the door to his room had him staring in pure bemusement.

"Hello, Harry."

" _Bonjour._ "

Luna and Fleur were sitting together on the bed, apparently having been deep in conversation before his arrival.

"Did I miss something?" He asked, still quite baffled.

"Fleur and I are having a girls day." Luna volunteered happily. "We painted each others nails. Look!"

She extended her legs to present her toenails to Harry, which were now a pale pink that went well with her blonde hair and complexion.

"Nice?" Harry guessed, knowing nothing about nail painting.

"Show him yours, Fleur." Luna urged.

The veela looked reluctant to Harry's gaze, but she did it anyway. He had to bite his lip when he saw what Luna had done to the poor veela's toenails. They looked like something that you might see while on a psychedelic acid trip.

"Fabulous." He said, still trying not to laugh.

Fleur ignored his obvious amusement by adopting a dignified air of low level snobbery.

"That's what I told her, but Fleur keeps insisting that less is more, which really makes no sense." Luna said with a nod.

"We can't all be as wise as you, Luna." Harry said agreeably. This day was turning out to be friggin' amazing.

"Hmmm, you'll have to explain what wisdom has to do with toenails later, Harry. I'll go play with myself in the Room of Requirement while you and Fleur talk." And with that she put on her shoes and left.

Harry wasn't sure if Luna's words were meant to be as dirty as they sounded and figured that he probably never would. She had such a mastery of ambiguous statements that you couldn't even tell if she was doing it on purpose or not.

He sat down on the bed next to the veela and prompted her when she didn't speak up right away. "You wanted to talk?"

Fleur had been trying to get Harry into a situation with a bed involved for months, had flirted constantly and waited patiently for him to become available. Now that it had happened though, she wasn't sure how to proceed. Indignantly demanding why he had spurned her attention didn't seem like a good idea.

She settled on simplicity. "I did."

"About?" Harry prompted again.

"You 'ave been avoiding me." Fleur stated neutrally. "Why?"

Harry sighed and got off the bed again, beginning to pace. "What exactly is it you want from me, Fleur?"

The veela was somewhat taken aback by the directness of the question and answered with a question of her own. "Eez eet not obvious?"

"Heh, I suppose it is." Harry chuckled humorlessly. "Your signals have been pretty clear and I doubt you would've kept at it this long if you were looking to just fuck and forget, if you'll pardon my French."

She briefly glared at him for the dig at her country and language but decided that there were more important things to talk about. "Am I not good enough for you?"

"Please refrain from pulling that passive-aggressive bullshit on me." Harry said mildly. His foster parents were masters of the art and he'd had to put up with it for years. He was rather looking forward to telling them that their association was finished for good once the summer began. He certainly wasn't going to put up with it from his friends. "And no, it has nothing to do with you not being good enough."

Fleur's lips had become a thin, irritated line at his rebuke but she didn't say anything back. She hadn't meant for that to come out like it did. Veela were somewhat naturally predisposed towards passive-aggression as it almost always got males falling over themselves to please them. There was nothing magical about it, just a pure feminine power trip.

It was unfortunate that the habits learned over years of being an object of worship for most men worked against her here.

Not wanting to feel like a scolded child in front of an annoyed parent, she got up from the bed as well and stepped in front of him. "Why did you ignore me zen?"

"I just got out of a relationship, Fleur." Harry explained. "I'm not looking to jump back into one."

That was a possibility she had taken into account, but she was sure she could convince him to change his mind. Resistant to the Allure or not, she had never heard of a man sharing a veela's bed and not wanting to come back.

"I understand, 'Arry." Fleur said softly, stepping so far into his personal space that she was practically breathing against his lips. "But could you 'elp me take care of my needs at least?"

"I would love to..." Harry said back equally softly, their lips almost touching. Then he took a step back. "Unfortunately, I've spent the whole day goofing off and I need to get some training done."

"What?" Fleur asked, numb with disbelief.

"I have people out to kill me, I can't afford to skimp out on training." He explained. It was one of the main reasons that he still hadn't fucked any of the bolder fangirls, it would wreck his schedule. The other reason was that teenaged girls were prone to thinking that sex equaled a relationship. That was one bit of drama he simply did not need, not when he had a young middle aged woman bored with her life to vent his lust on.

"But..." Fleur still could not believe that she had just been so casually rejected. That simply _did not happen._

Harry saw that her state of mind was poised to shift towards anger at any moment and thought it best to cut her off before she could build any steam. To that end he placed his hands on her shoulders and spoke earnestly. "Look, Fleur. You are a beautiful, vibrant and interesting woman. A mite quick to have your pride wounded and with far too high an opinion of anything French, but I would have been all over you since day one if the situation had been different. But things are _not_ different. It's barely been over a week since I stopped moping about the relationship I stupidly ruined, a relationship with a woman that I liked a lot. Normally that wouldn't stop me from shagging you into next week if you made an offer like that, but I actually count you as a friend, one of very few that I have. It's for that reason that I'm asking you to think carefully before making the same offer again. Next time, I _will_ accept it, but it won't be the relationship you're obviously hoping for. And don't think that your veela charms will work either, I'm pretty sure they won't. Now, I'm going to get some training done with Luna. You are welcome to join us if you want."

Fleur stood there like a stump as he collected a few items and left the room, her mind chewing over what he'd just said and not at all sure how to feel about it. She was still stung from the rejection, but also touched to be openly called a friend, not having many herself. Annoyed at his presumption that the offer would come again, but also challenged by his claim that her veela charms wouldn't work. About the only thing she wasn't conflicted about was the offer of joining in on his training, so she quickly put her shoes on and followed him.

XXXXX

Harry was surprised at how little time it took before Penny told him that Bryanna had contacted her to say that they were done with the request he'd given them. He'd expected a couple of weeks at least, but they were finished in days.

They were happy to explain why it was done so quickly though.

"Turning a robe into a muggle looking coat really isn't that hard. All you have to do is open it at the front and make the sleeves smaller. The problem is rooted almost entirely in two things, fashion and tradition. The British fashion for robes are colorful fabrics and decorations, while the muggle one is simple, usually dark colors. The tradition of wearing only underwear beneath robes is the other issue. We'd be hard pressed to convince tradition minded wizards and witches that they should start treating their robes as the outermost layer of clothing rather than the _only_ layer."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. He could definitely see that. Dumbledore in a baby blue 'coat' with yellow starts shooting across it and nothing under it except for a piece of baggy underwear from two hundred years ago was an image that didn't bear consideration.

"What you asked for is easy in comparison. The basilisk hide is a dark enough color that it wouldn't noticeably stand out from a muggle long coat and you're obviously comfortable wearing muggle clothes. The only problem you might have is some over enthusiastic animal rights activist thinking that it's made from snake or crocodile skin."

"But it _will_ be made from snake skin." Harry pointed out humorously.

"I doubt even the most die hard activist would fight for the rights of what is essentially a magical weapon of mass destruction." Bryanna said dryly.

"I wouldn't be so sure." Harry muttered to himself cynically. "What about closing it when I need it to act as armor?"

"Well like you said, buttons wouldn't work since a lucky spell could blast them off even if it wouldn't do a thing to the hide itself and Sticking Charms are out of the question because of the magic resistance. That's when we got the idea to line the inside with acromantula silk."

Harry could see that they were excited about that, but he was just confused. "I'm sorry, but I don't follow. How would that help?"

Tiana seemed to have been waiting for that, as she slapped a rectangular piece of fabric that looked quite magical to his eyes on the table immediately after he was done speaking. "Cut it."

Curious, he dragged a finger over the fabric, holding a small magical edge at the point of the digit. The silk parted easily and he turned to look at them, eyebrow raised questioningly.

The girls stared at him with jaws hanging in shock. Oh right, they hadn't known he could do wandless magic.

"You can do wandless magic?" Bryanna stuttered on cue.

"Yes. Keep that to yourselves for now, will you? I'm planning to make a big spectacle of that ability sometime in the near future." All the better to frighten people into not getting any stupid ideas. "Now what's so special about this silk?"

The familiar territory snapped them out of their shock and they got their focus back. Tiana grabbed the two pieces and held them closely together. "Observe."

Harry observed and his eyebrows climbed upwards when he saw the two pieces of silk slowly merging back into one.

"Tailor it properly, and you can have an inner lining of acromantula silk that will knit itself together and seamlessly close the coat on demand. Getting it to open again would be a bit trickier, but we know that it can be done. Acromantula silk is very expensive though, otherwise we would've tried working with it ourselves."

"Good thing I'm rich." He said sardonically. "Can this stuff be enchanted with space expansion charms?"

"Sure, what did you have in mind?"

"Well you can never go wrong with pockets, but I was thinking of having a hood sewed in to protect my head too."

"No problem."

"Okay, great. That takes care of my upper body, but what about my legs? I don't want to lose too much mobility."

"Two ways. Either you get a basilisk hide strap that can be tied at the waist, which will make sure your legs are covered by the coat most of the time, or you get a pair of pants made of basilisk hide too."

Harry looked between the smiling women suspiciously. Something about that last part didn't sound right... "Are you two trying to get me to squeeze my arse into a pair of tight leather pants?"

"Well it _is_ a nice arse. You've been taking good care of it and you shouldn't be afraid to show it off."

"Yeah, how about no. I'll stick to the first option."

"Aw."

"And since we're on the topic of arses, could you girls provide me with a dozen or so thongs, with matching bras if possible?" Septima really needed some new undergarments. Or to be more accurate, she would need them after he Vanished all of her frumpy granny panties.

"Harry, we had no idea you were into that kind of thing." Tiana purred sexily.

"What can I say? I like a breeze across my cheeks." He retorted sarcastically.

"We could give you what you want of course, but I'm afraid you'll have to pay for it." Bryanna chimed in officiously.

Harry got the distinct impression that they weren't asking for gold. "This situation seems kind of familiar."

"Turnabout is fair play."

XXXXX

Fred and George Weasley had been dithering over a decision for several months now. Namely the decision of whether or not they should take the offer that Harry had presented them with.

The joke shop idea was their baby and they really didn't want to share ownership, but the simple fact of the matter was that they needed a large infusion of money if they were ever going to progress past owl order sales.

Their winnings from the bet they made with Bagman at the World Cup would have sufficed to make a start of it, but they had learned the hard way why it was a bad idea to make bets with people you didn't know. Being paid to pull pranks on Draco Malfoy had seen them recover their savings and then some, but it wasn't nearly enough for what they wanted.

The Tri-Wizard Tournament had offered another possibility of getting their hands on some quick money, but it had picked Harry.

Their younger brother frequently grumbled jealously whenever Harry Potter was mentioned in his presence and cast aspersions on his character, but anyone with a brain could see that the youngest male Weasley was simply jealous of the fact that Harry was apparently able to do whatever he wanted with impunity. Fred and George were a little jealous themselves to tell the truth, but unlike Ron were able to see that Harry wasn't just a gloryhound taking advantage of his fame.

Much of their time since then had been spent in debate on the topic of allowing Harry one third ownership of their business in exchange for even having a proper business. April 1st had come and gone already, marking the day that the twins were considered adults in magical society and thus able to legally make such agreements without parental input.

So it was that they opened their most prized possession, the Marauder's Map, and sought out Harry Potter.

"They're at it again." Fred sighed.

"Think they'll be done soon?" George asked.

"Probably, it's Wednesday so they can't have a lot of time." Fred replied.

The Marauder's Map may not be able to tell you what a person on the map was doing, but it did show the position of a person's feet. Fred and George didn't think that Harry Potter could be studying Arithmancy with Septima Vector's feet on either side of him while up against a wall.

They didn't really mean to stick their noses into what Harry was doing with the Arithmancy professor in her quarters, but well...they were teenagers and nosy about sex by default, no matter how desperately their mother tried to keep them from growing up. It was hardly the first time the map had shown them someone having sex at any rate, although it was admittedly the first time it was a student with a teacher, if Harry could even be called a student anymore with his awe-inspiring and ongoing show of disrespect towards authority this year.

"Looks like they're finishing up." George noted, seeing the two pairs of footsteps separating.

"Let's go then, to battle!" Fred declared and the twins moved stealthily into a position near the door to Harry's room on the sixth floor.

Harry reached their position a few minutes later, once again flaunting the school dress code with his muggle clothes as had been the norm for him for the past few months. Truly, Fred and George envied his immunity to the rules. The things they could do if they were too famous to be expelled. That was possibly the only thing that Ron had gotten right about him.

"Harry, old boy."

"Old buddy."

"Old friend."

"Old chum."

"Fred. George." Harry greeted with an amused smile, correctly identifying each twin. It had taken quite a while to pin down which was which, but he'd never mistake them again now that he had. The auras did not lie. "What can I do you for?"

That was perhaps an unfortunate choice of words given who the twins knew he had been doing mere minutes ago, but they powered through it gamely. "We need to have a private word with you about a certain thing we talked about back in October."

Harry's eyes narrowed minutely. There was something a bit...off about the twins' behavior, but he couldn't tell what. They had the air of being slightly uncomfortable. Well no matter, the fact that they had finally decided to get back to him about the offer he'd made them was more important. "Good, I was starting to think you two had forgotten about that. We can talk in my room." Luna was still in Transfiguration right now, so they'd have it all to themselves.

He opened the door and let the twins in, plopping himself into an armchair after waving them to take a seat.

"So, you've made a decision?"

"We have." They confirmed. "We'd like to take you up on it, but first we want to know the specifics."

"It's all very simple really. I loan you a sum of money with no interest attached to it, maintaining majority ownership until you pay me back. Once that happens, my share of the business decreases to a third with a proportional amount of your profit going to my vault. You should contact Penny for further details."

"That sounds reasonable." Fred and George admitted. They were well aware that Harry was being exceedingly generous by not charging any interest for his loan. "How much gold would you be willing to give us?"

"How much do you need?" Harry countered. "And feel free to quote me a number higher than what you actually think you'll need. It won't cost you any more in the long run.

The twins exchanged glances. "A thousand galleons should do for a start. There's only so much work that the two of us can do in a given timeframe after all. We may need more by the end of next year though."

"Alright then, so we have a deal?" Harry asked, getting up and extending his hand.

"We have a deal." The twin grinned widely, extending a hand each.

Seeing the dilemma, Harry used his left hand to shake with the other twin.

XXXXX

After that series of events life settled into a routine where nothing of real note happened for a little while. Harry continued to train with Luna every day and was becoming steadily more confident in his combat ability, as well as advancing his own magical abilities. Luna herself did not make as much progress as Harry had hoped in the subject of wandless magic. She simply hadn't managed that breakthrough that would allow her to get a feel for her own magic, but he was hoping it would happen eventually.

Fleur joined them frequently and provided some welcome variety to their skill sets. She hadn't made any more offers like the one he had rejected that day and Harry suspected that she was giving whatever plans she'd made a careful rethink before she made any decisions. That was good. Fleur had her flaws, the foremost of which being that she was too used to getting what she wanted, but Harry had come to like the prickly veela all the same. She had a drive that was sorely lacking in most magicals which was something that he would always respect. He was not however, going to be a prized wizard she could claim and take home with her like some conquest from the old days. He hoped she understood that if she decided to invite him to her bed again, or else it was liable to spark the drama that he'd been so meticulously(but not always successfully) avoiding ever since his first year in Hogwarts.

About a month and a half passed since the second task when Harry heard from Penny that the _Prophet_ had finally published the sentencing of Royston Welch to Azkaban, but there was no mention of who had hired him. In fact, the entire article was the written version of indistinct mumbling, as if the article had been written only because the whole thing couldn't be ignored. The damned Ministry was dicking around again.

He had waited patiently for the DMLE to finish investigating, understanding that these things take time, plus the fact that their prisoner had been badly injured and he had no idea how long it would take to fix him even with magic. The length of the investigation coupled with the dearth of information in an article that was already buried somewhere in the depths of the newspaper made the whole thing stink of a cover up.

That was why Harry grabbed Sirius and dragged him over to the Ministry, intent on talking to Amelia Bones and getting the truth out of her. He could've gone by himself, but he was still technically a minor and he needed whatever credibility his godfather could provide, little as that was for people who knew him.

Of course it wasn't quite as simple as striding into the woman's office and demanding answers...

"I'm sorry, but Madam Bones is in a meeting right now and can't be disturbed." Amelia's secretary informed him.

"How long until she's finished?" Harry asked, not wanting to look like an idiot that came over for no reason.

"I don't know, but she really doesn't have any time to squeeze you into her schedule." The secretary insisted.

"It won't take us more than a minute." Harry promised.

"I guess that would be alright..." The secretary said reluctantly and Harry got the distinct impression that only the fact that he was Harry Potter had gotten him that concession. He also got the impression that Amelia Bones did not lightly tolerate lordlings coming to bother her with their shit, but then he'd gotten that impression during their first meeting as well.

"Now what?" Sirius asked.

Harry glanced in the direction of the Auror Office, wondering if Dora was sitting at her desk right now.

"Go ahead, Harry." Sirius said, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. "I'll call you on the mirror when Bones is done with her meeting."

"Go where?" Harry asked innocently.

"Don't even try it, I was doing the innocent look before you were a gleam in James' eye while he stared at Lily during Christmas dinner in our sixth year." The older wizard chided.

"That was oddly specific." Harry commented dryly.

Sirius ignored him and ploughed on. "I know you want to go see if Tonks is here. Normally I'd tell you to keep at least one continent between yourself and an ex if at all possible, but this is a special situation."

Harry gave him another look and then strode off.

Sirius simply shook his head once his godson was gone. "This is why you don't date your cousins. It makes family gatherings damned awkward." Oh sure, Harry and Tonks were like five times removed on the family tree and quite possibly not even truly related if one of those was through an in-law, but they were still bound to run into each other if they ever had a family gathering.

XXXXX

"Working hard I see." The amused voice took Tonks' attention away from the report about some idiot enchanting a car tire to fly off after a certain time period. Fucking Willy Widdershins. The bastard should have been in Azkaban for reckless endangerment already, but he got off with a warning because it happened on an empty stretch of road instead of the freeway.

"Harry!" Tonks exclaimed in surprise, almost jumping off her chair. "What are you doing here?"

"It's good to see you too, Dora." Harry replied, still amused.

Tonks' hair went a bright pink and her rebellious body tweaked itself in several minor ways to be more attractive. Perkier breasts, firmer butt, tighter waistline...it was pretty much unnoticeable under her robes, but it had happened. Despite everything, she'd missed him. "Of course it's good to see you, but still, what are you doing here?"

"I came to nag Madam Bones for information about that double assassination attempt on me." Harry sighed. "It's become obvious that the Ministry is hoping very hard that I'll just forget about it."

Tonks grimaced. She'd gotten that feeling too. She technically wasn't supposed to talk about the case, but..."I wasn't part of that investigation. Bonesy and Scrimgeour didn't assign _anyone_ to it as far as I can tell, but we _were_ told to keep an eye out for Dolores Umbridge, who went on a vacation to parts unknown shortly after you hauled that Death Eater out of the lake."

Deep inside him, shackled by runes bound to the Sun and Stars, Harry felt the distant stirring of a hunger that was old, vast and ravenous beyond human understanding. Or maybe he had just been hoping for an excuse to send that toad to the Void. "You think it's related?"

"I can't say, but I can say that if Umbridge was trapped in a burning building and Bonesy was the only one who could save her that she would have probably misplaced her wand." That was a common sentiment actually and hardly unique to the head of the DMLE.

"I see." Harry said thoughtfully. If Amelia Bones hated Umbridge as much as that implied, then she wouldn't have passed up an opportunity to bury her. He still didn't know for sure that Umbridge was involved in one of those assassination attempts, but it was looking likely and there was only one person in the Ministry who could overrule the head of the DMLE. The Minister for Hire, Fudge the Oblivious. Maybe he didn't need to speak to Bones after all. He could just go up to Fudge's office and bully the useless idiot into letting her do her job.

"So how've you been?" Tonks asked, switching the subject.

"Can't complain." Harry said with a shrug. "Things have been a bit routine lately, but that's not necessarily a bad thing." It was amazing how even boning your teacher could become a routine, though he made sure to keep Septima on her toes.

"Speak for yourself." Tonks groused, waving her hand at a pile of reports.

"That's what you get for working for the Evil Empire." He smirked.

"At least I get to torture smug little shits sometimes." She sniffed. "Did you sleep with that veela yet? Fleur I think her name was?"

"She offered, but I told her to think about it some more." Harry shrugged again.

"Really?" Tonks asked in disbelief. She knew what kind of sexual appetite Harry had and had expected him to jump into bed with his fellow Triwizard champion within a week of their break up. More to the point, who turns down a veela? Barring a few experiments with kissing her dorm mates during her Hogwarts days, Tonks was pretty straight, but she might have said yes if it was a veela coming on to her.

"She wants a relationship and that's just not something I'm willing to give her right now." He explained. He figured that Fleur would eventually repeat her offer and he would accept it as he said that he would. He had been sorely tempted the last time, but had not wanted the drama of a veela who felt entitled to him. If she offered again, she would have to do it with the understanding that she'd only be getting sex out of it. Considering the nature of veela, he was actually kind of surprised that it hadn't happened yet.

That made Tonks feel kind of sad. She had been the one who couldn't relax despite Harry's assurances that he'd never perform the Joining on her again, he shouldn't be clinging to the memory of what they had.

"So the insatiable Harry Potter is on a dry spell?" She tried to joke.

"I didn't say that..." He replied slyly.

"Ah, now the plot thickens. How many broom closets need a thorough cleaning?"

"None. Well...none because of me."

"What, did you bring her or them to your room?" She pressed with a raised eyebrow. She knew that Luna lived with him, so how would that work?

"Nope." He answered smugly.

Now Tonks was just plain baffled. If not in a broom closet and not in his room, then where? He couldn't have gone into the girl's room because of the charms that prevented men from going there and three of the four houses used dorms anyway.

"Who is the lucky girl or girls anyway?" She asked with narrowed eyes, almost stepping into his personal space as her hair turned a darker shade. Auror Tonks was going to get to the bottom of this mystery.

"It's a secret." He teased.

Perhaps unfairly, Harry and secrets was linked with 'illegal' in Tonks' mind. Unfair or not though, it led her to the right conclusion.

"You're sleeping with a _teacher_?!" She hissed in surprise.

The way that his face slackened in shock confirmed it for her.

"Please don't tell me it's Sprout or McGonagall? I don't think I could live with the mental scarring." She begged.

"The fuck? NO! The hell is wrong with you, woman?" Harry demanded in a hiss of his own, snapped out of his shock at her guess by the horrible imagery she'd invoked. He might appreciate an older woman, but not _that_ old.

"Thank Merlin." Tonks breathed in relief. "Who is it then?"

Harry hesitated before his shoulders slumped in defeat. Too late to cover his ass now. "It's Vector."

"Vector?" She repeated with a blink. "I guess I can see that..."

"She's a very bored woman in her early forties that hasn't done anything exciting in her entire life. She was begging me with her eyes to help her." Not entirely true. She had been begging him with her eyes to do it again the second time, the first time she'd been prodded into revealing her attraction by his 'fuck me' aura.

"And you, being the hero that you are, couldn't resist." Tonks was very amused.

"It's the duty of a hero to help those in need." He agreed. The main character always got all the pussy, it was an ironclad rule of RPGs.

"You're so noble, I think I'm going to swoon." She punctuated this airy statement by resting the back of her hand on her forehead as if about to faint.

Harry chuckled and trailed off with a sigh. He'd missed Dora's sense of humor. "You'll keep this to yourself? I don't want to get her sacked."

"Of course I will, a little hanky-panky is hardly worth causing a fuss over." Tonks scoffed.

"Thanks." He said with a smile. "So what about you? Anything interesting happen?"

"Not really." Tonks shrugged. "We can't all be Harry Potter."

Harry bit his lip in thought. He was about to do something that he was 100% sure Sirius would call him an idiot for, but screw it. "Listen, we're going to Black Island for a while over the summer. Do you want to join us?"

"I don't know, I don't get a lot of time off..." Tonks said uncertainly.

"You can join us for as long as you can or want to. For all I know, I might get bored there and cut it short after three days myself."

Tonks wavered. A vacation in the tropics really did sound lovely... "Who all is going?"

"Luna, Sirius, Penny, Penny's parents, Bryanna, Tiana, Jade, Isabel, anyone that Sirius might bring and an off chance that I'll invite someone else." Harry listed.

A couple of friends, a couple of strangers and two women that Harry would be fucking while there then. It was a good thing that Tonks wasn't so immature as to resent him sleeping with other women after breaking things off between them.

"Alright, I'll take some leave." She agreed. "When are we going?"

"Somewhere towards the end of July, but it's flexible."

"Cool, I'll see how much time off I can arrange."

Harry felt his mirror vibrate at that point signaling a call from his godfather. "Excuse me for a second."

"Harry, it's no good." Sirius said in defeat as soon as his face appeared. "Bones says she doesn't have time to meet us and to make an appointment. Even the famous Padfoot charm wouldn't convince her."

"Turning into a dog and humping a woman's leg isn't charm, Sirius." Harry informed him.

"Fuck you, Harry."

"Fuck you twice."

"You want to head home now?" Sirius asked once the obligatory insults were done with.

"No, I'm going to go pay Fudge a visit and squeeze the spineless fat fuck like a wet tissue."

"That's an idea." Sirius admitted. "Did you meet Nymphie?"

"You'll pay for that, Sirius." Tonks growled, snatching the mirror from Harry.

"Sorry, can't hear you. Connection is breaking up. Khhhhh." The mirror became just a mirror.

"Radio interference on a magical connection. Good one, Sirius." Harry said, shaking his head.

"As a Ministry auror, I'm supposed to treat any threats to our esteemed Minister with due seriousness, but I couldn't quite hear your conversation over all that radio interference." Tonks said sternly.

"I'll be sure to report anyone that looks to be threatening the good Minister."

"Good. Carry on, citizen."

XXXXX

Fudge perked up when the door opened to admit the pretty witch he'd employed as his secretary. She mostly just read the various notes and letters sent to him and relayed the important ones, but she'd mainly been hired because she was nice to look at. Being Minister of Magic was a stressful job and having a bit of eye candy made the burden easier to bear. His wife certainly wasn't up to the task anymore.

"Sir, Harry Potter is here to see you." She said and instantly eliminated any thoughts of pretty witches from Fudge's mind.

"Send him in, send him in." Fudge said quickly, trembling with anticipation. He hoped this would be a good visit.

The young wizard stepped into the office, thanking the secretary as she passed him by. That got a brighter smile out of her than he had ever managed.

"Harry, so good to see you!" He exclaimed as he rushed to shake his visitor's hand. He was dressed like a muggle for some reason, so Fudge assumed he'd just been in that world. The short sleeved shirt he was wearing displayed a physique rather more impressive than he recalled. His burned arm was also exposed, as if he didn't care about the disfigurement. Fudge tried not to stare at it or to let on how much it had unnerved him to touch the scar tissue.

"Cornelius." Harry greeted back. The tone was pleasant enough, but there was something offputting under it. There was a strange look in his eye...

"What can I do for you?" Fudge asked nervously. Had Harry always been this tall? No, he was certain that he'd been shorter during the World Cup. Kids sure do grow up fast these days. And why wasn't he blinking?

"I was wondering how much progress had been made on finding the instigators of the assassination attempts on me." Harry said. His tone was still pleasant, but Fudge felt cold sweat bead on his neck anyway.

He tried to play it off. "Come now, Harry, assassination attempts? Who would conspire to kill the kill the Boy-Who-Lived?"

"I could think of quite a few people." Harry's tone was colder now. Dangerous. The normally large office suddenly seemed small and stifling. He still hadn't blinked. Was it getting a mite chilly in here?

Fudge tried to find his voice, but Harry continued speaking before he could. "It could even be someone from the Ministry, you can never tell with these things."

The cold sweat now broke out everywhere and in greater quantities. This was a disaster! He couldn't allow the Ministry to be implicated in a plot to kill the Boy-Who-Lived! It would be the end of him. Even an accusation would see his public esteem drop like a stone.

"I know that my good friend Cornelius would never have anything to do with it of course." Harry was still talking. "But you can't be expected to keep an eye on everyone under you. Every government has individuals with their own agendas, wouldn't you agree?"

Fudge didn't hesitate to grab the lifeline. "Of course, it's a constant struggle to fight corruption in the government."

"It's a good thing that you have a woman as driven and competent as Madam Bones on the job. She's sure to keep people in line."

Oh yes, Fudge knew that Bones would indeed keep people in line. The woman was like a bulldog, but had no understanding of how politics worked. She'd dismiss or imprison half the Ministry and the Wizengamot if she had her way.

It was unfortunate that she would apparently be getting her way this time. Fudge didn't really think that Dolores had anything to do with the incident during the second task, but that wouldn't matter if Amelia got the chance to go after her. He couldn't protect his Senior Undersecretary this time. He hoped Dolores would understand that it was just politics. "I'll talk to Amelia about putting some more effort into the investigation."

"I'll look forward to thanking the Ministry for their efforts in uncovering the mystery of this plot on my life then."

The powerful young wizard left after that and Fudge was able to sit down and take a breather. That had been unpleasant. He didn't remember Harry being that intimidating the last time they'd spoken. He might have just served Dolores up to the sharks, but at least Harry had said that he would endorse the Ministry. As far as consolation prizes went, that one was pretty good.

XXXXX

In the lift back outside, Harry let out a deep breath and released the Dark he'd been pulling into himself from _Arhain_. It was much harder during the day, but it could be done. He immediately felt his insides warm up and twisted his neck to the side, producing a series of loud cracks. Made him feel as stiff as a corpse afterwards though.

But he'd gotten what he wanted. Fucking Fudge had wasted all this time fidgeting in terror at the thought of bad publicity and gave Umbridge a huge head start. No wonder Malfoy spent so much time at the Ministry, someone had to hold the idiot's leash to keep him for cutting his own damn neck off with a bloody papercut.

"You okay?" Sirius asked in concern.

"Peachy." Harry grunted and twisted his neck to the other side, producing another cacophony of cracking vertebrae.


	22. Chapter 22

**A couple of reviewers have left complaints about the amount of smut in this story, saying that it detracts from the plot and such and such. I can't let it be said that I don't listen to my reviewers, so I have adjusted things accordingly in this chapter.**

 **As always, credit for beta-ing goes to Joe lawyer.**

XXXXX

When Amelia Bones received intelligence from her informant in Fudge's office(this informant happened to be the secretary that the fat idiot had hired for the express purpose of ogling her) that Harry Potter had paid him a visit, she had wondered if perhaps she should have talked to him and Sirius Black instead of blowing them off. She genuinely hadn't had time then and had been irritated by their presumption to just walk into her office without an appointment.

Then Fudge showed up some twenty minutes later, flustered and nervous, stumbling through a permission to finally put out an arrest warrant for Dolores Umbridge.

As a general rule, Amelia hated it when high profile people visited the Minister's office. It inevitably led to Fudge getting manipulated or bribed into pushing someone else's agenda.

This was one agenda that she could live with however and within the hour, Dolores Umbridge was a wanted woman for the first time in her life.

XXXXX

It may shock people to know that Dolores Umbridge didn't handle solitude too well.

This was not because she was any kind of people person, but because she had an inferiority complex the size of the Swiss Alps which drove her to constantly put other people down to make herself feel better. It drove her to cloak herself in pink, kittens and sweetness because it was the exact opposite of what she was. She was not even a blood purist because she actually believed in the pureblood dogma, but because she saw their wealth and power and wanted to be one of them instead of the halfblood she really was.

People had turned their noses up at her for one reason or another her entire life and a political career in the Ministry of magic had provided all the opportunities to vent her mental issues on others that she could ever want.

Not that Umbridge was consciously aware of any of this. All she saw was the perfect Ministry(and by extension herself as its representative) and knew with ironclad certainty that anyone who didn't bow and scrape before it had to be shown their place.

With this in mind, it wasn't surprising that Umbridge didn't do the sensible thing and hide in some secluded corner of the world like Albania or something to wait for the situation to blow over.

Instead, she went to 'visit' her father, Orford Umbridge, an unambitious man whom she had long ago bundled away out of sight where he couldn't embarrass her.

Orford's family had never been wealthy but they had been pureblood and he had been raised to hate muggles, which made the story of how he had gotten married and had two children with a muggle woman almost romantic if not for how it ended. If forced to answer, he would grudgingly admit that he'd been horribly lonely and had been so pleased at having someone to talk to that he hadn't cared that the woman who had come to talk to him was a muggle. The prejudice came back with a vengeance when she bore him a squib son and she had eventually left him, taking her son with her. A young Dolores had grown up seeing the increasingly hateful screaming matches between her parents and had internalized a lot of that.

But that was a long time ago now and Orford was very lonely again. He hadn't protested having his daughter living with him for an indefinite amount of time even though he was aware what a monster she had grown up to be. It took less than a day for the sugar wrapped verbal abuse to start, but Orford was much too old and tired to really care.

For Dolores, this was far worse than anything else he could have done. If her father wasn't affected by her words, then that meant she was worthless and she couldn't tolerate being worthless.

The cottage that her father lived in was next to a small village in an out of the way corner of Britain. It was a muggle village of course and thus filled with potential targets. Dolores Umbridge became the most hated woman there inside a week.

By the time that a month had gone by, people were seriously contemplating murder. It wasn't like anyone would tell the police anything about who had killed the woman, so they could probably get away with it.

When one of the village teenagers excitedly told his parents that he'd seen an arrest warrant 'for that pink toad woman' on an internet news site, on charges of conspiracy to commit murder no less, they barely even bothered to verify their son's words before calling the police.

The muggle and magical worlds might be separate, but they did have a certain level of contact in places such as law enforcement(skewed in favor of the magical though it was), so word reached the Auror Office within hours. The subsequent arrest of Dolores Umbridge was a rather undramatic affair, as the aurors stunned her before she even properly realized what was going on.

XXXXX

"What a circus." Harry muttered as he and Sirius made their way into the Wizengamot judicial chamber.

It was filled with wizards and witches in plum colored robes, most of them older than dirt and probably about as qualified to be presiding over a trial as a three-year-old with Down Syndrome. Nevertheless they were indeed here for a trial, the trial of Dolores Jane Umbridge to be precise. Maybe they were hoping for a free lollipop at the end?

"Why do you think I never attend the meetings?" Sirius muttered back. He too thought that circus was an apt word for the Wizengamot. One person on trial and over fifty judges, the vast majority of whom made decisions based on their own private agendas rather than even the vaguest notion of justice, could hardly be called anything else.

"Order in the chamber." Dumbledore intoned formally, quieting the murmur of conversation that had been going on.

"The ringmaster has spoken." Harry muttered mockingly to his godfather.

Sirius snickered.

"Bring in the accused."

Umbridge walked in accompanied by two aurors that Harry wasn't familiar with, her nose in the air and a neck that looked stiff as a board. She aimed a short glare at Fudge but otherwise didn't look at anyone. A man that Harry figured was her legal counsel was also with them.

A short litany of information followed; who the interrogators were, the name of Umbridge's advocate and such.

"Criminal trial of the seventeenth of April for conspiracy to commit murder by Dolores Jane Umbridge on Harry James Potter." Dumbledore finished reciting. "How does the accused plea?"

"Not guilty." Umbridge said sweetly.

"Very well." Dumbledore nodded. "Madam Bones, you may present your evidence."

"We have a confession by Royston Welch, saying that he and his friends spoke to Madam Umbridge on the third of January, whereupon she paid them to kill Harry Potter, Fleur Delacour and whoever their hostages for the second task of the Tri-Wizard tournament would be."

"That hardly proves anything." Umbridge's lawyer interjected. "Anyone could have used Polyjuice to impersonate Madam Umbridge, perhaps hoping to frame her."

Amelia had known this argument would come up. It was practically a staple of any trial where eye witnesses were involved. It was a perfectly valid argument even, as people had done exactly that in the past to set up their enemies.

But she knew that Umbridge was as guilty as sin. The toad thought herself clever, but she really wasn't. Petty and vicious, but not clever. It would be just like her to conduct a deal like that in person without considering that things might go pear shaped.

For that purpose, Amelia had prepared a little 'insurance' to make sure that she didn't wiggle out of a sentence.

"Then explain _this._ " She said, pulling out a piece of parchment. "A set of instructions that was found in Welch's robes, signed by Madam Umbridge herself. The analysts have already confirmed that it was indeed she who had signed it."

No such thing had been found on Welch of course. It was a forgery with Umbridge's signature lifted from some other piece of parchment so that analysis would confirm it was really her signature. If questioned, Welch would swear up and down that Umbridge had indeed given it to him. He got a five year sentence reduction out of it after all.

Amelia didn't enjoy being a hypocrite, but she enjoyed criminals going free even less and both the Ministry and Wizengamot were rife with them. If she could put one piece of scum like Umbridge behind bars by compromising her morals, then so be it.

She had still been relatively young when she had the leadership of the DMLE dropped into her lap. With Crouch Sr. being dismissed from the post, Moody refusing to be promoted and all the people dead fighting Voldemort, she'd suddenly found herself being the most senior eligible auror in the department. They'd stuck her behind a desk with a bare few months experience at running a sub-department, nevermind the whole DMLE.

Many Death Eaters were now 'pillars of society' because she had been too inexperienced at the politicking involved in the position to make anything stick to the slippery bastards.

But that had been thirteen years ago, and she had learned that it was sometimes better to put high minded principles aside in order to get things done.

Sitting next to his godfather in the stands, Harry's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the room exploded into a furor.

"Is it normal to spring evidence like this in the middle of a trial?" He asked quietly.

"I'm not really sure," Sirius admitted. "but nobody seems to be protesting, so I guess it must be."

Harry could only shake his head at that. This really was a circus. He would freely admit to not knowing all the nuances of the mundane legal system, but he was pretty sure that you couldn't just pull new evidence out of your arse while a trial was underway.

"Lies!" The distinctive screech of Umbridge sounded through the din. "It's a forgery! I never wrote that!"

Dumbledore had apparently decided that the excitement had gone on long enough and issued forth a bang from his wand, calling for order.

"Madam Umbridge, you dispute this document?" He asked once things had settled down.

"I do! Bones planted that evidence to frame me!" The pink dressed woman said firmly.

A few people scoffed. Everyone knew that Amelia Bones was a woman of great integrity, even her enemies.

"So the sighting of you was due to Polyjuice and the incriminating evidence is a forgery." Said woman spoke stonily. "Then perhaps you would like to explain why you disappeared mere days after Royston Welch was arrested?"

"Madam Umbridge was visiting her ailing father." The lawyer answered smoothly. "Surely your aurors reported that was where she was when they broke into the house and stunned her without so much as a word being spoken?"

"We can resolve this very quickly if Madam Umbridge would consent to the use of Veritaserum. We know that she has taken no antidote and has no skill with Occlumency, so it would be effective."

Amelia knew that her own duplicity would be revealed if Umbridge actually agreed, but there was no chance of that happening. The whole thing was a ruse to cast more doubt on the toad's character when she refused.

How she wished that she could implement the use of the truth potion in all criminal investigations, but she knew that it was never going to happen. Aside from the antidote and Occlumency, those of sufficient willpower could also resist it, not to mention that it only revealed the truth as the drinker saw it. Those were all just excuses though. The real reason that Veritaserum was banned from use in criminal investigations was because people in power were deathly allergic to the truth and didn't want to risk having it used against them if they legalized its use.

"Veritaserum that was no doubt tampered with to get the results you want!" Umbridge snapped back.

As arguments were thrown back and forth, Fudge sat in the Wizengamot seat reserved for the Minister of Magic in conspicuous silence.

He really didn't want to convict Dolores. Not so much because he was overly fond of her, but because it would set a bad precedent of backstabbing his allies. But when he looked around the room and caught the intense green eyes of the young wizard who had pushed him to allow this trial to happen, Fudge knew that he didn't have a choice.

 _Do it_. The stare seemed to say. _Do it or else_.

Fudge didn't want to find out what Harry would do if Dolores was deemed innocent. The Boy-Who-Lived may not have any official standing as of yet, but he could do a lot of damage with just a few words.

So he cleared his throat loudly to get people's attention and spoke. "With Madam Umbridge refusing Veritaserum, her guilt seems clear. I propose that we vote on it now."

Fudge resolutely did not look at the furious betrayal on Dolores' face as the noble lords and ladies Wizengamot voted guilty in an overwhelming majority. Many found Umbridge useful as a patsy to influence the Minister, but there wasn't a single soul in the room that didn't also find her incredibly annoying. They could always find another patsy.

"You'll regret this!" Umbridge shrieked as she saw the amount of people that were voting guilty. "You'll all regret this!"

Harry stared at the pudgy woman as she was led away, the hatred beneath her skin now visible as she screamed threats and insults every step of the way from the room.

He was oddly disappointed by the whole affair. He had been hoping to somehow contrive to trap her into a public duel to the death, but he could hardly justify that now.

"Here comes Fudge." Sirius muttered, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Harry looked over to see that the fat idiot was indeed coming over, his face a strange mixture of nervousness and eagerness. Well he'd made use of the Minister for Hire and now it was time to pay up. He could already hear the vultures outside the courtroom clamoring for a statement. Fucking reporters.

XXXXX

Less than two weeks later, Harry found himself returning to Potter Manor due to a summons from Penny. Apparently there was something of a situation afoot.

Walking into the room where the situation was taking place, he could only sigh in exasperation. What the hell was up with all the drama this year? Sure, he had kind of volunteered for some of it with the tournament and all, but this was ridiculous.

"Someone want to fill me in?" He suggested.

Sirius looked disgruntled and Adrastia looked amused.

"Hello, Harry. I needed to talk to you." The femme fatale said in a friendly manner.

"But she refuses to say what about." His godfather groused.

"I refuse to tell _you_ what it is about, because it isn't any of your business." Adrastia riposted.

"Harry's my godson!" Sirius argued.

"And everyone in this room knows that he is more mature than you, so your argument doesn't hold any water. Be a good boy and go chase a squirrel in the backyard while we talk."

"I'm not leaving you alone with him!" Sirius glared.

"Her tricks don't work on me, remember? I'll be fine." Harry interjected irritably. Sirius had moped for a while after Adrastia had dumped him because she'd worked him over enough to get him decently infatuated, but now that had all turned into resentment on his part. "She's probably just winding you up anyway."

"But..."

"No buts. I'll tell you about it later if it's nothing sensitive."

"Fine." Sirius stalked out with a scowl.

"Are you regretting that you didn't let me kill him?" Adrastia asked, smiling.

"No." Harry said snippily. "Teeny, could you please bring us some drinks?"

Two glasses filled with colorful fruit cocktails appeared on a nearby table, complete with drinking straws.

"You see, this is one of the reasons why you are so much better than your godfather. You have an understanding of basic courtesy." Adrastia said and took one of the glasses, closing her eyes as she sucked on the straw and let out an almost sexual moan of enjoyment. "This is very good, your elf should be proud of herself."

Harry shook his head as he took the other drink and sat down, ignoring the stirring of his loins at her behavior. "You probably just made her day."

Adrastia smiled. She had always been a firm believer of treating one's house elves well. Only fools made enemies of their servants after all, even bonded ones. Besides, they were just so earnest that abusing them was beyond petty. "I was merely being honest."

"I assume you're here for some other reason than baiting Sirius?"

"I came to ask you on a date." She said glibly.

Harry choked on his own fruity concoction in sheer surprise. "What?"

"You heard me. I've been invited to a small get-together in Vienna that an old friend of mine is throwing and I need a date. I can't think of anyone better than you to accompany me there."

"I didn't know you had friends." Harry sniped.

"You wound me, my dear." Adrastia pouted sexily. "Just because my type of friends wouldn't fit in with Britain's magical elite doesn't mean I don't have them."

"Riiiiight." He drawled and continued sarcastically. "Anyway, it may have escaped your notice that I'm fourteen and still in school."

"You chose to discard your childhood when you took a ritual knife to your own flesh, do not try to hide behind your years now. You look twenty and act like it most of the time as well. Furthermore, Sirius told me that you are intending to use this tournament to emancipate yourself and leave Hogwarts."

Harry scowled. Of course Sirius did. It seemed like Voldemort's Horcrux was the only thing he _hadn't_ told her, and even that was probably down to pure luck since it wasn't exactly a topic you can stumble on by accident.

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I simply have no interest in going to a party in Vienna." There were a thousand other things he'd rather be doing, up to and including masturbating to gay porn, though just barely.

"I thought you might say that, so I made sure I had some leverage before I asked."

Harry closed his eyes and leaned back into the armchair in resignation. Of _course_ she had leverage.

"What kind of leverage?"

"Did you know that I came to watch you during the second task?" Adrastia asked idly.

"No." Harry replied, not even bothering to ask how that was relevant.

"I suppose Nymphadora didn't pass on my greetings then. A pity."

"You spoke to her?" Harry demanded, tension crawling over his frame. He hadn't even known that the Metamorphmagus had been at the second task.

"I did indeed, though our conversation was brief." Adrastia confirmed, paying no mind to his suddenly dangerous air. It was only to be expected. "She was quite angry at me, likely due to a combination of her job and my part in the trouble that your relationship was going through, however tangential it was."

"What did you say to her?" Harry asked, his tone still demanding.

"Nothing much. We traded a few insults and I pointed out that she never would have given you the time of day if you weren't as impressive as you are. She walked out on me before anything meanigful could be said really."

Harry relaxed slightly. He couldn't sense any lie and what she had said wouldn't have pushed Dora into leaving him, though he would also ask her about it when there was an opportunity.

"What does this have to do with your leverage?" He asked, abandoning the topic.

"This in particular has nothing to do with it, the fact that I was there does. I had high hopes for seeing some kind of spectacle with you involved, but your stupid Ministry apparently didn't think things through very well and arranged for an event where the spectators could only watch the surface of a lake for an hour. This was obviously boring, so I left early. Imagine my surprise upon learning that I had actually missed some excitement when you dragged a Death Eater from the lake. I waited with baited breath for news on this development, only to receive...nothing."

"Yeah, Fudge was blocking the investigation." Harry grunted, still irritated by the memory.

"Yes, I do not usually pay much attention to puppets, but I have since heard about that dumpling and his obsession with public image." Adrastia nodded. "But it was not the Death Eater that caught my interest, but the _other_ assassin."

"Let me guess, you know who he is?" Harry sighed. He wasn't even going to bother asking how she had learned about that not-exactly-public-knowledge bit of information. The Ministry leaked information like a sieve and a woman like her could get it easily enough, either through bribery or other means.

"Know him?" Adrastia laughed. "I've made use of him myself. The magical world is rather small, is it not?"

"Of course you did." Harry sighed again. "So who is he?"

"Murder for hire, nobody you need concern yourself with. It was nothing personal." Adrastia prevaricated.

"He tried to kill me." Harry retorted tersely.

"But he failed and will not try again. That is something you should be proud of by the way, he _is_ rather good at what he does after all." She said glibly. "What you _should_ concern yourself with is who hired him."

"I would love to concern myself with that, but the list of people that might want me dead probably isn't short."

"True, your involvement in the Dark Lord's destruction would have made you many enemies among his followers and those whose views aligned with his own." She agreed. " _But_ , I am in posession of information that narrows that list down considerably."

Namely the fact that It would take someone quite well connected to the wider European underground to get in contact with Goran. The isolationist attitude of Britain's wizards and witches generally restricted the possibilites to their wealthy social elite, with whom she was quite familiar thanks to her hobby. Cross reference that with the list of those who were of a more morally dubious persuasion and the list became very short indeed. Cross reference again with the list of those who stood to gain the most and keep in mind the incident at the World Cup, and one name suddenly stood far above all others.

Truly, Lucius Malfoy was too used to how many liberties his gold bought him. He was not nearly as subtle as he thought he was, nor was he the only one with connections.

"But you won't tell me unless I agree to be your date to this party?" Harry deduced sourly.

"Intelligence is a very attractive trait in a man." Adrastia purred in lieu of a confirmation.

Harry rubbed a hand over his face. He really didn't want to go to this party and he didn't want to get entangled any deeper with Adrastia, but he couldn't very well ignore the fact that someone was trying to kill him. They'd succeed eventually and she knew it, the sexy bitch.

"When is the party?" He asked in defeat.

"On Christmas." She answered, smiling brightly. "You don't need to worry about anything, I'll provide both the clothes you'll be wearing and the transport."

"Fine." He agreed grumpily, glaring at his empty glass as if it had just cast aspersions on his parentage. He had to wonder what the catch was about this party, because he didn't believe for a moment that it was as simple as she made it sound.

"Come now, don't be like that." Adrastia said with a sexy pout. "You'll enjoy it, I promise."

"Whatever." Harry grunted, not really believing her. "Just tell me who's trying to kill me."

"Lucius Malfoy."

Harry's eyebrows shot towards his hairline in surprise. But on the other hand... "I guess I can see that, I _have_ kind of been bullying his son this whole year." And the man had already demonstrated enough pettyness to retaliate against Penny for giving the stupid brat a detention.

Adrastia rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Silly fool, he wouldn't be trying to kill you over a schoolyard scuffle. If anything, he would be disappointed in his son for being unable to handle it himself in one way or another. No, he is trying to kill you because you are a danger to his ambitions."

"What ambitions am I a danger to?" Harry asked in confusion. "I couldn't get seriously involved in politics yet even if I wanted to."

Adrastia sighed in disappointment at how dense he was. Perhaps she should have expected this given who his godfather was, but she had for some reason assumed that Harry wouldn't be so ignorant on the topic.

"Not those ambitions. Sirius made you Heir to the Black family, yes?"

"Yes." Harry nodded cautiously.

"And Narcissa Malfoy is Sirius' cousin, yes?"

"Yes."

"That would have made Draco Malfoy the only viable Heir to the Black family holdings until you showed up and usurped his position. Lucius was not likely to be pleased about having that boon for his family snatched away by the unexpected event of Sirius being declared innocent."

"Ah, this bullshit." Harry said irritably. His grandparents' portraits had wanted to educate him on the matter of politics between Britain's prominent families, but he had waved them off, being utterly disinterested in that pureblood garbage aside from when it was immediately relevant. They had been annoyed, as his father had apparently blown them off too, but they were just portraits and couldn't put up much of a fight. Maybe he shouldn't have done that, but it had just seemed like such a huge waste of time when he could be doing something more interesting.

At least this finally explained why Malfoy Sr. had tried to get himself included that day when he had gone to talk to Amelia Bones, he had intended to manipulate Fudge into blocking Sirius' name from being cleared no doubt.

"Do you have proof?" He asked.

"Nothing that you could use." Adrastia answered. Malfoy had covered his tracks well enough for that.

"Then you could be wrong." Harry pointed out.

"Perhaps." She allowed. "But I'm not. Lucius Malfoy is the only wizard in the United Kingdom with both the means and sufficient motive to have orchestrated that assassination attempt. And to be blunt, he is also the only one in his social circle that is really active instead of merely _re_ active."

"You're awfully sure of yourself for someone who isn't even British." He said cynically.

"I did spend a few years living here you know." She countered glibly. "It behooves a woman of my particular tastes and lifestyle to be aware of which sheep aspire to be wolves."

Harry couldn't help himself from snorting.

"Even if you're right, conjecture isn't going to let me do anything to him." _And I can't just stroll into Malfoy Manor and murder him either._

"True." Adrastia agreed, smiling.

Harry sank into silence as he considered the problem. Malfoy would obviously have to die, he was simply too much trouble for any other solution to be acceptable, but how to do it? What he would have really liked would be to face the blond peacock in a public duel to the death like he had wanted to do with Umbridge. That would be the perfect time to show off his skill with wandless magic and terrify any would be schemers into backing off. But he needed a reason aside from 'I want to kill him' to set something like that up.

"Would you like some help?" Adrastia offered, sounding very amused.

Harry glared at her sourly.

She took that as a yes. "What you need to do is hit him where it really hurts. Lucius Malfoy is the sort to be obsessed with his family name. Throw dirt on that and he will go to great lengths to defend it."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" He asked with a sarcastically raised eyebrow. "Even publically calling him a Death Eater will just make me look childish."

"You really should educate yourself on the politics between the Noble Houses." Adrastia advised. "You are thinking of the situation from the perspective of Harry Potter the individual instead of as the future Lord Black. Once you are considered an adult in the eyes of the law and Sirius abdicates his position, you will have some control over Malfoy's wife and son, who are Blacks by birth. Providing that Arcturus Black adhered to the old ways – and he was known to be a staunch traditionalist – you should be able to contrive a reason to dissolve the marriage between Lucius and Narcissa as well as cast both her and Draco out of the family easily enough. That would leave his wife essentially nameless and hurt his prestige greatly as he is not himself part of the nobility. He would have little choice but to contest it."

"And I could offer to let it be settled by an honor duel." Harry finished, seeing where she was going with this.

"Exactly."

"And I can't tell Sirius about this, because he'd probably try to do it himself out of some misguided notion of protecting me." It also meant waiting until the summer and possibly giving Malfoy another shot at him, though he likely wouldn't have an opportunity to do it anywhere but at the third task.

"Probably."

"Why is it that every time you show up, I end up in some stupid lose-lose situation?"

"But look on the bright side, Harry. You get to take me to a party."

"I stand corrected, it's a lose-lose situation with some extra lose attached to it."

"So negative! Is it any wonder that Nymphadora left you?"

Harry glowered at the smiling woman. He knew that it wasn't _really_ her fault that he was in this situation with Malfoy just like the mess with Dora and the Joining wasn't her fault. She'd only been removing his ignorance after all. But he didn't know what she was playing at and he didn't trust her.

"Who exactly is this friend of yours that's throwing this party?" He asked suspiciously.

"Now that would be telling." She teased.

"That's the idea, yes." Harry retorted sarcastically.

"Secrets are part of a lady's charm." She deflected loftily.

"You're about as charming as a human sized praying mantis in expensive clothes." He grumbled.

Adrastia burst into surprised laughter at comparison, unable to help herself.

Harry watched as the beautiful witch continued laughing gaily and found his own traitorous lips curving into a smile against his will. What he'd said wasn't true of course. Adrastia _was_ charming, very much so even. That was the whole fucking problem. She wouldn't be half as dangerous if she was easy to dislike.

It took over a minute before her amusement died down and she regained her composure, trailing off into a final chuckle. "Oh my, I haven't laughed like that in years. If you keep on being so entertaining I might have to come around more often."

"I'd prefer if you didn't."

"Come now, Harry, don't be such a sourpuss. We're friends aren't we?"

"No."

Adrastia pouted playfully at the flat denial, not at all discouraged. They may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but she knew that Harry clicked far better with her than he did with the general population. The party that they would be attending together should serve to mellow him out as well.

XXXXX

Fleur gripped her wand tightly as she stared into Harry's intent gaze across the Room of Requirement. He had no wand in his hand, determined to fight handicapped. She would have been insulted if she didn't know it had nothing to do with her.

Harry had intensified his own training considerably of late, giving her the feeling that he was preparing for more than just the third task. As they had been told what the third task would be just yesterday, she expected him to be even more intense from now on. There was only a month left until the 24th of June after all.

"On the count of three." Luna said in her role as referee/spectator. "One, two, three!"

Fleur immediately started firing stunners at Harry, but he dodged easily, his reflexes honed through months of practice. And unlike when he had started, he barely needed to think about it anymore, leaving him plenty of opportunity to retaliate.

Fleur saw the small swarm of Magic Missiles as Harry called them moving towards her and put up a shield, knowing that dodging was useless. Her reaction time was impeccable, but unfortunately premature as Harry had made them deliberately slow in order to waste her time.

Immediately after casting the Magic Missiles, Harry started on a new spell, a Conjuration this time. A familiar one that he had used quite a few times already, though usually not in combat.

Fleur had realized his deception quickly, but was struck by a brief moment of indecision. Should she keep up the shield and wait for the slow moving magical projectiles to reach her, or should she return to the attack?

It was enough for Harry to finish his spell and release it. Grease, a Conjuration of the First Circle. It wasn't _quite_ the same as the usual fantasy game equivalent, as Harry had replaced the actual grease with sexual lubricant. Aside from being more familiar with it(He'd bought some Durex play gel specifically for the purpose of learning how to magically conjure the stuff), he also didn't want to cover Fleur in flammable material.

Fleur found herself struggling to stay standing on the suddenly slick floor, hindering her ability to focus on the duel. More to the point, she recognized what exactly Harry had conjured and was quite incredulous that he would use something like that in combat.

That gave Harry all the time he needed to cast a stunner at the veela. With her footing and focus too badly disrupted to cast a shield in time, she took a direct hit.

The next thing Fleur knew, she was lying on the ground, looking up at the ceiling.

"'Arry?" She said calmly.

"Yes?" He asked, amused.

"Did you cover ze floor with lubricant?" She asked, still calmly.

"I did." He nodded.

Fleur took a deep breath and got up. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of saying how stupid that was. It clearly worked, which meant it wasn't stupid. At least the conjured gunk vanished without leaving a trace on her clothes and hair.

They continued with the training for the next hour. They didn't use anything more dangerous than stunners or mild bludgeoning spells, as they didn't want to send each other to the infirmary, but it was still good practice. Sometimes Fleur won due to the superior casting speed that her wand allowed her and sometimes Harry would pull off a particularly clever trick to score a victory. They were short duels, usually only lasting a few spells each. Contrary to popular opinion, a magical duel was usually decided within moments rather than being a drawn out affair, the exceptions being battles between the extremely powerful and dumb situations like the underwater battle during the second task.

Fleur had long since asked Harry to teach her wandless magic, but he had refused. He was teaching Luna because she was his best friend and he knew that he could trust her implicitly. Fleur was nice, but he was not going to hand out his secrets to every pretty face that he got along with.

Fleur had been disappointed, but she had understood. She took it as less of a 'never' and more as a 'not yet'.

After the indignation of having her advances rejected had faded, the veela had decided to take his advice and do some thinking.

She had realized with a measure of guilt that she had been treating Harry the same way that most men treated veela. A prize to be taken, a status symbol.

Fleur had always found this mindset infuriating. It was easy to see where it came from of course. All veela were physically very similar, they had the same silver-blonde hair, the same sky-blue eyes, the same flawless complexion even. Put two veela whose families had not been in contact with each other for centuries close together and you could still easily mistake them for sisters. Furthermore, they all had the same innate abilities and magical proficiencies. It made it easy to think of all veela as identical clones of each other rather than individuals.

Easy or not, it was still deeply irritating to be considered as just another representative of her species rather than as herself. It was one of the main reasons that had pushed her into being the best and entering this tournament.

Harry wasn't in the same situation obviously. He was what she had always strived to be. Unique, exceptional. The source of Fleur's shame was that she had put little effort into getting to know him aside from her efforts at seducing him. She had wanted him simply because he was special. Perhaps even worse, she had been working under the assumption that she just had to get him into her bed once and he'd be hers. Even learning about his surprising ability to perform the Joining hadn't really changed that.

She had essentially been planning to snatch him for herself before anyone else could, like a jealous child hoarding the cookie jar. Yes, veela were drawn to the powerful thanks to their heritage, but this was beneath her.

Armed with this realization, Fleur had set out to really befriend Harry instead of just doing it as a means to an end and discovered that she had missed quite a few things.

She hadn't put much thought into how she felt about his personality before. Once a veela chose a mate and began sleeping with him or her regularly, their personality tended to... _adjust_ , to better fit the veela. They remained the same person of course, they just...became a better fit for the veela in question. Taking a man's thoughts into account was new territory for her, but she dealt with it by pretending that he was a fellow veela to make it easier.

Without the reality lense of 'I'm a veela, it'll sort itself out', Fleur discovered that Harry had several personality traits that she didn't like too much.

He inevitably got tired of people after a certain time and retreated into solitude. He held grudges a lot longer than necessary. He was secretive and getting him to open up was like pulling teeth. There was an undercurrent of quiet contempt in his regard for most people. Nothing easily defined, but Fleur had noticed several times how he seemed to be restraining himself from impatiently tapping his foot when someone other than Luna or herself would come talk to him, as if he resented having his time wasted. Not even teachers seemed to be spared from this, with the possible exception of Dumbledore and the dark haired Arithmancy professor, Vector Fleur thought her name was, whom she had long since deduced through the elimination of all other possibilities as the one that he was sleeping with.

But for all that, Fleur also found plenty to like.

He took care of those who were close to him. There was a maturity to him that most boys didn't develop until their late teens, if not even later. He was thoughtful and considered his words carefully before he spoke, a trait that was perpetually in short supply. Perhaps most relevantly to her, he had always treated her as a person instead of as just a veela. His good looks certainly didn't hurt either.

All in all, Fleur had determined that she liked what she saw. Most of the flaws she had noted in him so far didn't really affect her, which made them unimportant and his positive traits more than made up for them. He was the kind of friend she would have liked to have in Beauxbatons instead of the acquaintances that passed for friends currently. He would probably give her a look of derision paired with an acerbic remark if she asked him to go shopping with her, but that was a small price to pay for having someone that would stick around and help her if she ever got into trouble.

In the six weeks or so that had passed since Harry had rejected her advances, she'd become good friends with both him and Luna. The sort of friends that were hard to come by for veela outside of their own kind. There was only one thing missing from the equation that would make it better and if it eventually grew into something more...well, Fleur would consider that a win. If it didn't, then she would still have a handsome male friend to have sex with and that wasn't something to be turned down. She was already long overdue to sate her needs and if she waited any longer, she was going to have to pick some random boy to have her way with or else she risked her Allure getting out of hand. That was something that she really didn't want to do. It would be the equivalent of settling for stale bread when there was a freshly baked loaf right in front of her.

"'Arry, could we talk?" Fleur asked at the conclusion of their last duel, glancing towards the cheerfully spectating Luna. "In private."

She didn't really have any particular objection to the younger blonde's desire to watch them having sex, veela not being at all ashamed of their sexuality. it would probably be beneficial to convince Harry to allow it sometime in the future actually, since Fleur was certain that Luna would become a staple of Harry's sex life as soon as she turned sixteen. That was one girl that knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to say so, which was something that Fleur could respect.

But it wouldn't be today. Harry hadn't grown up with a veela's sensibilities and wouldn't be comfortable with an audience. Fleur would try to loosen him up in the future, especially if things progressed like she hoped and a real relationship grew between them. Gabrielle would need someone to teach her about being a veela in a few years and she knew that her mother would suggest that she do it, as practice for her own daughters.

Rather than being upset at the implied request that she leave the room, Luna beamed happily at Fleur. "Have fun!"

Fleur couldn't help smiling. That girl really was a gem.

"Sure." Harry agreed. He had a feeling that this was coming and wasn't surprised.

"I 'ave thought about what you said." Fleur said casually, stepping closer to him.

"Reached any conclusions?" He asked, now looking down at her.

" _Oui._ " She confirmed, sliding her hands up his chest and then his neck so that she could pull him down for a kiss.

"Alright then." He wasn't going to question her any further if she was certain. What would happen would happen.

Fleur let out a low sound of enjoyment from her throat when their lips met. She had always known that Harry was powerful, but knowing it and getting to taste it were two entirely different things. The hour was late and his magic had long since turned cold, but her body burned with need.

Harry was a bit surprised at how aggressive Fleur became after their first kiss. He was used to taking the lead during sex and it seemed that so was Fleur. This should be fun.

The two of them quickly divested each other of their clothes and stumbled towards the bed that the Room of Requirement had provided for them.

Harry was intending to lay Fleur on her back, but she had other plans and shoved him onto the bed. Eyebrows raised in surprise, he took in sight of the panting veela standing at the foot of the bed. She truly was magnificent.

She also took the opportunity to get a good look at him and licked her lips at the sight. Yes, this was definitely the right thing to do. Even if everything went wrong later, it would be a crime not to have at least one night with him.

She joined him on the bed, going for a quick kiss before impatiently migrating further south.

Harry let out a surprised groan of pleasure when she took him in her mouth, having not expected her to go there quite so quickly. She wasn't quite as good at it as the now rather practiced Septima, but there was no faulting her enthusiasm.

Fleur did not actually care right now how good she was at it. All she cared about was bringing him to orgasm as fast as possible. The small taste of his magic that she'd gotten from the kiss had left her aching for something more substantial and she was determined to get it.

A not much talked about facet of magic was that all bodily fluids carried some of it. It was the reason that blood was held in such reverence by wizards and witches everywhere, in a manner completely separate from any notions of blood purity, though it was no doubt a factor in how that nonsense got started.

But blood was a vampire's fixation. For veela, a wizard's seed and its instrinsic connection to sexuality was their main interest.

With the effort Fleur was putting into it, it didn't take long before Harry was reaching orgasm.

She ignored his warnings and barely heard his pleasured groan as his seed filled her mouth. She barely even registered that it actually tasted a bit sweet rather than the expected salty flavour. All of that was irrelevant compared to the sheer potency of the magic held in it. It was like nothing she had ever tasted before and she greedily guzzled it all down and then kept sucking on his member as if it was a straw, wanting more.

Harry groaned in near pain when she didn't let up. He had felt her magic swelling in strength when she had swallowed his sperm and realized that perhaps the blood of Lilith wasn't quite as thin in the long dead Succubi Queen's veela descendants as he'd thought. Fleur's magic now roared against his own like a furnace, firing up his runes as if the damn Sun was actually up.

He wasn't willing to just lay there and be a meal for her though. He'd gotten rather fond of the dominant position and wasn't going to concede it so easily. He reached down to grab Fleur's head and flipped them over so that she was the one on her back. The move fortunately also took her enough by surprise that he was able to liberate his member from the vaccum grip her lips had had around it.

"My turn." He growled, grabbing both of her hands and pinning them to the bed. Fleur momentarily glared bloody murder at him but rationality quickly returned and she smiled invitingly.

"I am all yours, 'Arry." She purred, bucking her hips towards him.

He gave her a quick kiss just like she had done to him earlier and moved down her body. Unlike her however, he did not immediately dive for the prize between her legs even though he _really_ wanted to. Instead, he stopped at her nipples and began teasing them with his teeth and tongue, making sure to keep her arms and legs pinned the whole time.

At first, Fleur was content to enjoy it. Then she started bucking impatiently when he didn't move forward after the first thirty seconds. By the time that a minute had passed, she was actively fighting to escape his grip on her, complete with the occasional bit of French vulgarity.

Harry meanwhile was taking glee in tormenting her like this. Fleur was clearly used to being in control during sex. That was perfectly understandable, as the combination of Allure and her rampant sexuality had no doubt railroaded everyone she'd ever slept with into submission. That made taking control away from her all the sweeter and she couldn't do anything about it because he was considerably bigger, heavier and stronger than her.

By the five minute mark, her magic was making the air around them noticeably hotter, her struggles were downright violent, her groin had become slick with her juices and her words had turned into an almost birdlike screech that rang with magic. The most amazing thing however, had to be the appearance of something that Harry had originally taken to be fur, but had soon identified to actually be a fuzz of downy feathers.

Perhaps unwisely, he decided to continue teasing her. Not only was this transformation utterly fascinating, but her reactions were just too sexy for him to want to stop just yet.

He kept at it for another minute, the feathery fuzz getting thicker with every second and her arms grew actual feathers.

Then he felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his hands and instinctively jerked them away, setting the lust maddened veela free.

She immediately used the opportunity to spin them around so that he was once again on his back and straddled him. He barely had time to realize what had happened before she impaled herself on his painfully hard member with a triumphant screech.

He gasped in shock at the incredible, unnatural heat surrounding him. The sensation was beyond incredible and he knew that he wasn't going to last long. Eyes still wide with surprise at the turnaround, he took in the inhuman creature that was now riding him with a violent intensity.

Her whole body now sported a light covering of silver fuzz, with larger feathers growing from her upper arms. Her fingers were tipped with curved, bloodstained talons. Her head remained mostly clear of the fuzz except for a bit at her ears, but the face itself was somewhat different than normal. It was sharper and somehow crueler, though that could be the effect of her now black eyes.

" _Join with me_." She said in French with a strange, melodious echo to her voice.

Harry somehow knew what she wanted even though he couldn't understand the words and he could easily feel the powerful compulsion in them. It was like phoenix song turned into speech and he doubted that there were many people alive who would be able to resist it.

He was one of them, thought it was debatable whether that was down to how he had altered his own soul or to pure willpower. It was a moot point in any case as he had no intention of refusing.

He sent his magic out to embrace hers as their climax approached. He felt her walls clamp around him like a vice as her magic flared more brightly than ever and he released into her with a loud groan, her own cry of pleasure belonging more to a bird than a woman.

For the first time, Harry experienced what it was like to perform the Joining with someone who could do it themselves, however wild and uncontrolled. For a few glorious moments, he had an instinctive understanding of Fleur the likes of which even a lifetime of conversation wouldn't impart. Her Light washed through him like a river of flame, pushing back the Dark as if she was his very own Sun.

On Fleur's side, things were a little different. With the way that Harry had been teasing her, rationality had nearly fled her completely. There had been only desire and raw _need_ , instinct having gone completely beyond control and turning her into a slave to her own lust.

Finally having him inside her had helped, but she had still completely forgotten that he couldn't understand French. She had barely managed not to simply shriek at him like a bird as it was.

Having his powerfully magical seed shooting into her had been every bit as intense and wonderful as she had hoped and had set off the most powerful orgasm she'd ever had in her life.

Lost in her own pleasure, she didn't even realize that her eyes had slipped shut and her focus turned to the soul of the man now Joined with her.

His magic had always both intrigued and frightened her and now she saw why. Patches of it were almost like a veela's, but so much more raw and haphazard, looking almost crudely attached to his soul. And in the darkest depths of it, she saw what looked like an endless black pit that was constantly drawing in everything it could reach and only being held back by a prison of burning starlight. Even as she stared into that black abyss she felt it pulling on her now that she was Joined with Harry. It was like standing on top of a great cliff and looking out into eternity and seeing the death of all things. But she knew instinctively that it had to be there, or else there would be nothing to keep the fires in check. A precarious balance between Light and Dark that Harry could no longer live without.

And then the moment passed and Fleur collapsed on Harry's chest, panting for breath as the veela transformation receded. The knowledge of what she'd seen during the Joining slipped away from her mind as if she was trying to hold on to smoke, leaving behind nothing but a vague dread on Harry's behalf.

For several long minutes neither did anything except lay quietly in the afterglow.

Then Harry took a deep breath and released it. "Wow."

Fleur giggled, inordinately pleased with herself for getting that reaction from him. "Are you regretting your decision to reject me ze first time?"

Harry hummed and ran a hand over her bottom. "No, I think this is better."

It was only then that he felt the stinging in his hands and brought them closer for a look.

"I am sorry." Fleur said guiltily as she saw the cuts on them.

"Quite alright, I _was_ kind of asking for it." Harry reassured her and focused on a healing spell. His runes had already started the healing process, but there was no reason not to speed things up. In a few moments, the small wounds had closed, leaving behind only thin scars.

" _Oui,_ you were asking for eet." Fleur agreed, remembering how maddening it had been to have her breasts played with when all she wanted him to do was plow her.

She had pushed herself up a bit on his chest to look at him when she said that and could suddenly do nothing but stare. There in the middle of Harry's forehead was a scar in what could only be a runic shape, though one she was unfamiliar with and there were two more circular ones on his temples. Looking down, she found his chest littered with rune scars of various design, his chest hair not really doing that great of a job hiding them.

"'Arry...what are zese?" She asked quietly, running a finger over his chest and the scars on them.

Harry's hand stilled where it had been fondling her bum. In a distant sort of way, he realized that he should be having a minor panic attack right about now because of this new development, but for some reason he wasn't. Some lingering effect of their Joining made him feel that this wasn't too big of a deal despite the fact that he knew that it really, _really_ was.

"Ritual scars." He said with an unthinking casualness that even he was inwardly incredulous about. "They're a secret."

Fleur knew that she should be shocked. Rituals of this nature were highly illegal after all. Somehow though, it just didn't seem very shocking. She wanted to ask more, but the same lingering understanding that kept Harry's mind from instantly leaping towards damage control kept Fleur from digging into it. Secrets were dangerous. He would tell her eventually.

"They are sexy." She purred instead, lifting herself back up to a straddling position.

Harry grinned back at her and placed his hands on her hips. "I'm glad you think so." Then he flipped them over. "But I'm on top this time."

XXXXX

 _Later._

After several more rounds and an equal number of Joinings performed, Harry and Fleur were lying exhausted in the bed provided by the Room of Requirement, spooning contently. Neither one was intending to leave the bed until morning.

"I could get used to zis." Fleur murmured, more satisfied than she had ever felt in her life. Her magic was a glorious song echoing in her bones. The cold of Harry's that had once intimidated her was now familiar and soothing. "Will you come to France wiz me?"

"Maybe after the summer is over, I already have plans during it." Harry murmured back.

Fleur was immensely disappointed to hear that. "What plans? And 'ow would you come to France after ze summer when you 'ave school?"

"I'm not coming back to Hogwarts next year, so I'll be able to go wherever I want." He answered the latter question first. "And there's a bunch of us going to a private island that Sirius' family owns."

While Fleur was considerably cheered up to hear that he wouldn't be stuck in this drafty castle for the next few years, she was still disappointed to hear that she wouldn't have him around during the summer. Although... "A private island..."

Harry grinned at her wistful sigh. She was doing that blatant hinting thing again. "Would you like to come too?"

"Yes!"

He chuckled at her eager response, inwardly wondering if he was setting himself up for an explosion. There were going to be a rather large amount of women that he was/had been sleeping with on that island. Eh, screw it. Whatever happens, happens.

The thought of things happening brought to mind something rather important. "Crap, hold on a second. I need to cast a contraceptive charm on you."

This time it was Fleur's turn to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked.

That made her laugh into the pillow.

"What?" He pressed insistently.

"Oh 'Arry, zose charms do not work on veela." She answered, still chuckling.

Harry froze. "Come again?"

"Veela need a special potion to prevent pregnancy." She explained. A veela getting pregnant was an event that had less to do with a man's sperm finding an egg than it did with a magical transfer. The sperm itself was still required, but as a vessel for the magic rather than to fertilize the eggs. It was the reason for their low fertility rates, all female offspring and inability to become pregnant with non-magical men, though Fleur wondered if Harry's potency and ability to perform the Joining might not increase the chances of pregnancy considerably. It was probably a good thing that he had reminded her actually. "Do not worry, I 'ave some in my room back at ze carriages."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Don't scare me like that."

"I am sorry." Fleur said insincerely.

XXXXX

 _Four weeks later, on top of the Astronomy Tower at three in the morning._

It was a beautiful night, Harry thought. Cloudless and clear, with the stars shining brightly.

He was going to miss this bloody tower. It was a great place to think. In fact, he would probably miss this tower the most out of everything in Hogwarts.

Well...maybe not quite as much as Septima, but you couldn't really compare the two. He couldn't fuck the Astronomy Tower and he couldn't think on top of the Arithmancy professor.

Today was also the last time he would have one of his private lessons with Septima. He patted the object in his pocket and smiled. It would be interesting to see how much she had learned.

Their arrangement hadn't ended simply because he was now also sleeping with Fleur after all.

XXXXX

 _Later in the day._

Septima was currently teaching her last class of the term, the sixth years. It contained all the more serious students who had passed their OWLs and decided to try for a NEWT in Arithmancy. It was usually a very routine class to teach, she had long ago worked out a curriculum for all five years worth of students that she taught and deviations only happened once in a blue moon.

Today was very different though. Today she had to teach the class while experiencing a constant state of fear that had her insides squirming.

Fear that her moist folds would squelch obscenely for all to hear whenever she took a step. Fear that one of the periodic drops of vaginal fluid wouldn't trickle quietly down her legs but instead soak through her underwear to land on the floor with an audible splat. Fear that someone would be able to smell the musky scent of arousal wafting from between her legs.

She had never felt so alive.

Harry had done some pretty bold things since they started their sordid affair.

He had taken her on every piece of furniture she owned in the castle, as well as in her bath. There wasn't a single spot left in her room that didn't bring back memories of what they'd done there.

He had Vanished her underwear and presented her with an alternative that he found more appealing. Septima had never spent any notable amount of time among muggles and had certainly never seen undergarments so...small. She had been reluctant and embarrassed to wear something like that, but had to agree since the only other choice Harry had left her had been to go naked. The first few days of wearing them had been like a naughty adventure that made her feel as if she was playing a dirty joke on everyone. Now she couldn't believe that she'd ever been comfortable wearing the unflattering, baggy 'granny panties' as Harry had called them.

He had made her masturbate while he watched.

He had decided that since she gave him lessons in Arithmancy he would also give her lessons, and began teaching her how to relax her throat when she serviced him with her mouth so that she could take all of his length. Coincidentally, they had switched to four lessons per week instead of two since then.

For every new thing he did, she raised a token objection before accepting it, like they both knew she would. She was enjoying having her boundaries pushed too much to do anything else.

But this latest stunt took the cake, she would remember it until the day she died.

 _Flashback_

 _Septima wasn't one of those people that were still half dead when they woke up, but she did like to come to her senses gradually._

 _She wasn't granted that luxury today, as a hand was placed over her mouth, making her scream into it and thrash instictively._

 _"Shhh. Calm down." A familiar voice said soothingly._

 _Incredulous blue eyes stared into amused emerald green. What the blazes was Harry doing in her room? Before the crack of dawn no less if the lack of light streaming in from her window was any indication._

 _"That night shirt looks good on you." He complimented, reaching out to give her nipple a light pinch through it._

 _Septima flushed. He had been the one to give her the sheer, shimmering garment and insisted that she wear it to bed. Not that she had a choice after he had Vanished all of her old night gowns, contemptuously calling them 'granny wear'. She didn't mind though, it was sexy._

 _"Get on your knees and lift your arse into the air." He ordered, finally taking his hand away from her mouth._

 _"Harry, we can't!" She protested, sitting up on the bed. "Someone will see you leaving my room." She wasn't the only teacher living in this part of the castle and Harry being seen leaving her room at this hour was a lot different than if it happened after a scheduled Arithmancy lesson._

 _"You let me worry about that, now do as I said."_

 _She obeyed as they both knew she would. No matter how much anything new he did scared her, the exhiliration always won out._

 _She crawled to the center of the bed on all fours and lifted up her rear end while pressing her cheek into the bed. The nightie slid across her body until it was around her armpits, leaving her almost completely exposed. She felt him hook his fingers into the waistband of the g-string that was her only lower body garment and pulled it down around her knees. As a finishing touch, she felt a petrification spell take hold and lock her into place. Her vaginal opening drooled obscenely._

 _"Excited, are we?" He asked teasingly._

 _Septima felt another rush of blood go up to her face. She couldn't help getting wet when he was like this._

 _A finger gently probed her folds and made her shiver in anticipation. Then it retreated and she heard the unmistakable sound of it being licked. She shivered again._

 _"Mmm, still as tasty as ever."_

 _If she could have, Septima would have jiggled her bum impatiently._

 _To her immense surprise, she felt a slick, spit covered digit being pushed into the tight ring of her anus. Before she could even properly register exactly what Harry had just done, she felt a spell go off and spray her bowels with something gooey and viscous._

 _She tried to lift her head and demand an explanation, but the petrification kept her still and silent._

 _"Don't worry, I'm just getting you ready." He said leisurely._

 _Septima's eyes widened as much as they could in her current state and she panted for breath fearfully. Surely he wouldnt? That was too dirty! Her insides clenched tightly with terrified arousal._

 _Something cold, metallic and much smaller than his member was slowly pushed into her spell lubricated hole. It was even smaller than his finger. A strange mix of relief and disappointment filled her as she felt the metal 'hook' at the other end of the object settle comfortably into the crack of her buttocks. Why had he even bothered to lubricate her for something that tiny? She could barely feel it._

 _"I'm sure you're wondering what I just put inside you." Harry said conversationally._

 _Of course she was, but the petrification didn't let her say so._

 _Harry was obviously aware of this and continued speaking. "It's called a butt plug."_

 _Well it was certainly in her butt, but she wasn't feeling particularly plugged._

 _"I modified it quite a bit though. See, it's shrunk at the moment for easier insertion, but if I do this..."_

 _Septima's eyes widened as the object began expanding until she felt the cool metal touch the walls of her rectum. It had previously been too small for her to get a feel for its shape, but now she could tell that it curved ever so slightly upwards and was bulbous towards the end instead of a uniform size. The lubricant he had previously conjured in there spurted out of her as the space in her rectum was taken up by the steel intruder and she flushed further in embarrassment at the obscene sound. It wasn't over yet though, as the now aptly named butt plug became just a little bit larger and then shrunk a bit again._

 _A whimper escaped the Arithmancy professor's throat as it continued to expand and contract in tiny increments, stretching her just a little further each time._

 _"Don't worry, it won't keep getting bigger indefinitely." Harry assured her. "Though it will keep expanding and contracting until I remove it. And I do mean when_ I _remove it. It's cursed you see and won't allow you to do it yourself. I suppose you could get someone like Dumbledore or maybe Snape to break the curse, but I somehow doubt you'd be willing to do that."_

 _Septima whimpered some more. She was going to have that thing stuck in her bum until he decided to take it out._

 _"Don't worry about going to the bathroom either. There's a Vanishing Charm on it specifically targeted at human waste. You do_ not _want to know what a bitch it was getting that right."_

 _Oh gods, Septima wasn't sure if she could take much more of this. Harry had done some pretty bold and embarrassing things to her before, but this made it all seem as tame as knitting a sweater._

 _Harry leaned over to whisper into her ear then, his breath tickling her skin. "Enjoy the butt plug, Professor, because it's final exam day and you'll need the practice to get an Outstanding."_

 _End flashback_

He had left the room then, leaving her petrified on the bed in more ways than one. She knew that the chances of someone barging into her room and seeing her in that compromising and helpless position was nearly nil, but that didn't help assuage her terror of it happening anyway. She knew that he had done it on purpose, knowing full well what the fear of being caught would do to her.

The petrification spell wore off after about fifteen minutes and she was able to get her wand. An few awkward detection spells cast on her rear end had confirmed his words. The butt plug was indeed cursed. Benignly cursed but still cursed. There was also a low powered cushioning charm on it that Harry hadn't mentioned, which she guessed was there to prevent discomfort or injury. She could almost admire the skill with which the multi-layered enchantment had been applied, but the fact that it was lodged up her arse rather distracted her from that.

The day had been pure torture. Learning to walk normally without letting on about Harry's 'gift' had been a chore. Trying to eat breakfast with the steel intruder slowly massaging her anal cavity, stimulating erogenous zones she'd never known existed and leaving her constantly horny, had been nerve wracking. Teaching classes knowing that with every passing minute it was getting closer to the time that Harry would come to replace it with his member and plunder the last hole of hers that he hadn't taken yet had made it difficult to focus on what she was teaching.

She couldn't help loving it, the obscenity of it all only making the experience better. She'd never have been brave enough by herself to do _any_ of the things he'd done to her, but she had at least thought about most of them. This though...she'd never even considered anything so dirty and erotic. The entire day was spent in a state of fear and anticipation. She had no idea how she was going to be able to teach him any Arithmancy with that hanging over her. But she knew that she would have to, he wouldn't let things progress until she did. That was sometimes as frustrating as it was admirable.

The class finally ended and the brats were too blessedly excited about the summer to ask any questions, leaving her able to gingerly sit down for the first time since it had started. Sitting down only made things worse though, as the intruder in her rectum was pushed a bit deeper and forced Septima to stifle a cry of pleasure, but her legs ached too much to stay standing.

Expand. Contract. Expand. Contract. It just never ended, a ceaseless rhymth that kept her in a constant state of arousal but was too slow to bring her to orgasm. She wanted to plunge her hand under her robes and rub herself until the relief came, but she knew that Harry wouldn't take it easy on her just because she had tired herself out beforehand. And their lesson was in the evening, when there were no more classes. He wouldn't have a limited amount of time, he would take her over and over until _he_ was tired.

Septima shuddered and inadvertently clenched, gripping the butt plug as if it was Harry's member. She could hardly wait.

XXXXX

The last private lesson with of the year with Harry inevitable arrived and Septima could barely pay attention to the Arithmancy she was trying to teach. The minutes ticked by in a blur of frustrated arousal.

"Looks like we're out of time." Harry said musingly and got up.

Septima all but pounced on him, pulling him down and attacking his lips with her own.

"Well someone's eager." Harry chuckled into her neck as he pulled her robes over her head.

"You have no idea what you've been putting me through all day." The Arithmancy professor panted back, now dressed only in the black bra and thong that he'd brought her. "People kept asking me if I was alright and suggesting I visit Poppy because I looked a little flushed!"

"You know you loved it." Harry smirked back, reaching out to give her nipples a light pinch after removing her bra.

Septima cried out in pleasure and redoubled her efforts to get him naked. His shirt flew off first, followed by his shoes and finally his pants. This left her in a familiar kneeling position, staring at his erect manhood.

"Time for your oral exam, Professor." Harry said, deliberately using her title to highlight just how improper the situation was. "Let's see how much you've learned."

Septima was almost vibrating with impatience by now, hours and hours of having a steel butt plug stimulating her arse having left her desperate for the main event, but she knew that he wouldn't allow her to skip the foreplay.

She took him in her mouth without protest, gradually going deeper until his head hit the back of her throat. With the benefit of repeated practice, she was able to suppress her gag reflex and keep going until her nose was buried in his pubic hair. The pleased groan he let out as he threaded his fingers through her hair made her close her eyes in enjoyment while she continued deep throating him, moving up and down his member in a practiced rhytm that allowed her to breathe something close to normally. Her groin may be gushing and aching with need, but the sense of pride she felt at being able to please him would tide her over until his was his turn to please her.

A few minutes later, she felt him tensing up and digging his fingers into her scalp. She took him as deep as she could and sucked on it while spurts of thick, hot spunk were fired down her esophagus. His loud groans in combination with the butt plug nearly had her orgasming then and there. When he was done, she moved back and licked off what remained of his faintly sweet discharge.

It used to taste salty, but Harry had switched to a much more fruit heavy diet when she had mentioned it. She would have swallowed it all even if he hadn't done that since it hadn't tasted horrible even before, but she was touched by his consideration anyway. She hadn't even known it was possible to change the taste of a man's sperm that way. The things muggles researched...

"Outstanding work, Professor." Harry breathed out. "You've clearly been paying attention."

"I had a good teacher." She replied coyly, getting rising to her feet. It was a good thing she had a thick carpet covering the floor, or else this would have been murder on her knees.

"My turn to taste you now." He growled, herding her towards the bed.

"You don't have to..." Septima tried to protest. She was more than ready for the main event.

"I insist." Like hell was he going to pass up an opportunity to lick her soaking cunt. He'd been looking forward to it all day.

The Arithmancy professor didn't protest again as she was laid down on the bed with her rump on the edge. Her shoes and socks were quickly pulled off and thrown away, followed by her sopping wet underwear. Harry was now kneeling by the foot of the bed with her legs spread to either side of him.

"You really _are_ eager." Harry commented with a grin, seeing how wet she was. There were traces of wetness all over her groin and even her upper thighs.

Septima didn't say anything, merely bit her lip and flushed, glad that he couldn't see her face right now.

Harry wasn't content to leave it at that though. "Did you enjoy having this thing in your arse all day?" He asked, using a single finger to push the butt plug further into her.

Septima cried out in surprised pleasure and answered quickly before he decided to torment her any further. "Yes, I liked it!"

"I thought you might." He chuckled and leaned forward to run his tongue over the length of her groin before focusing on the more sensitive parts.

Septima could only shudder in pleasure at his ministrations and clench the sheets in her fists. Combined with the occasional poke at the butt plug, it took less than a minute before she was moaning out her release.

"Mmm, tasty." Harry commented while she was recovering. "Get on all fours."

She obeyed unhesitatingly and crawled to the center of the bed even though her legs were still shaking slightly from the long awaited orgasm. She felt a tingle along the nerves of her vagina and clitoris. He must have used the Share Sensation spell again and was stroking himself in preparation. She squirmed impatiently as the bed dipped under his weight.

"Hmm, I think I'm going to need some extra lubricant before getting to the main event." He said musingly, rubbing the tip of his member along her soaking labia. "How fortunate that you have so much."

"No..." She protested weakly. She wasn't sure if she could survive being taken from behind with the butt plug still in her rectum.

But he wasn't listening and slipped inside her with ease. Septima released a surprised scream when she felt his member and the butt plug rub against each other through her inner walls. She could only bunch up the sheets in front of her and sink her teeth into them when he started thrusting.

Looking down at the woman keening helplessly into the sheets she was biting, Harry just couldn't help himself from escalating a bit further and grabbed hold of the butt plug. As the curse on it was cast by him, it didn't resist when he started gently moving it in and out.

Septima's world went a bit fuzzy from the overabundance of stimulation. She felt so full and her coherence was lost in an endless sea of sensation. The rising tension of a coming orgasm suddenly released and darkness encroached on her vision. A series of grunts as Harry released into her was the last thing she heard befor her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she lost consciousness.

"Professor?" An amused voice was calling but it didn't matter because everything just felt too good.

"Septima?" The voice tried again. She recognized Harry this time.

"Wha' 'appened?" She tried to ask, slurring terribly. Her jaw and gums ached.

"You passed out." Harry told her, amused.

"I did?" Septima asked numbly, still getting her bearings. She wasn't on her knees anymore, but flat on her belly.

"Yes, you did. Very rude of you too, we aren't done yet." He said sternly.

Oh. She could still feel the butt plug in her arse.

"I don't think I can take any more." She said pleadingly.

"Of course you can, Septima. You're a big girl." He replied dismissively. "And I know you want it. Just tell me what exactly you want and I'll take care of the rest."

"Harry..."

"Just tell me what you want."

"...I want you to...put it in." She stammered out shamefully.

"That's not good enough. You need to be _concise_ , Professor."

Septima stayed silent, too embarrassed to say it.

"If you want to stop..."

"No!" She quickly protested. "Please..."

"Please what?"

"...Please fuck my arse." She whispered and buried her face in the sheets, mortally embarrassed.

"I couldn't heeeear youuuuu~." He sang teasingly.

"Please fuck my arse!" She snarled and once again buried her face in the sheets, feeling as if there was no blood left below her neck.

"That's what I wanted to hear."

She felt him grip the butt plug and slowly pull it out. The bulbous tip made her whimper as it stretched her slightly more in its passing, the worst of it being when it passed through her anus. When it was finally removed and her rectum was left clear for the first time all day, Septima thought she'd feel relieved and she did, but the gaping emptiness of her bowels was also strangely unpleasant now.

A finger was placed on the rim of her stretched hole and a new coating of lubricant was conjured. Harry then climbed on top of her and placed the head of his member against the hole that she had never considered as anything other than an exit before today.

"Get ready." He whispered into her ear and began pushing in.

XXXXX

"Oh, Harry. What have you done to me?" Septima sighed lazily when they were finished, draped over Harry's chest. "I used to be such a proper woman and now I've got your cum dribbling out of my arse."

"You were bored to tears being a proper woman." Harry pointed out. "And I can clean that up for you if you want." Casting this close to another magic user wasn't a problem here since she wouldn't be trying to fight him.

"Please."

A few moments of focus later, Septima felt something akin to a cold breeze pass through her bowels and clean them out. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"But you're right, I _was_ bored to tears being proper." She chuckled. "I'm going to miss this during the summer."

"Septima, I'm not coming back to Hogwarts next year." He said softly.

Her head snapped up in shock to stare at his eyes. "What? Why?"

"There's nothing much left for me here." He explained. "I mean sure, you and Professor Babbling can still teach me a few things, but other than that I'm making better progress on my own than listening to any of the classes. It's just not worth it for me to stay here any more."

Septima surpressed the almost instinctive 'what about me?' that sprung to the forefront of her mind. That response would have nothing to do with his education and everything to do with her desire to keep their affair going. There was an unspoken 'no strings attached' agreement between them and she wasn't going to complicate that. Thinking of it objectively, she had to admit that Harry was right, Hogwarts really didn't have much left to offer him.

Even she didn't have much left to teach him that he couldn't learn either by self-study or through practice. He had revealed his wandless magic to her some time ago and she had been astonished and excited to figure out how Arithmancy applied to it. The disappointing answer was not much, as wandless magic was apparently more art than science. This had allowed Harry to skip a great deal of things that she would have insisted on teaching most students and he had progressed well past NEWT level already in the rest. That enchantment on the butt plug was actually a good example of spellwork that no Hogwarts student should have been capable of.

"What will you do then?" She asked instead.

Harry shrugged under her. "I was thinking of travelling a bit. There has to be more to the world than just Britain."

"That sounds nice." She said, thinking of her own dull life. A dull life that she might be going back to if Harry wouldn't be around anymore. It was an utterly depressing thought.

"What about you?" He asked.

"What about me?" She asked back unhappily.

"I don't think you'd be happy going back to being just Septima Vector, Hogwarts Arithmancy teacher." He elaborated.

He really believed that too. He'd noted a sharp rise in the potency of Septima's magic over the past few months. She definitely enjoyed being submissive during sex and got off on having someone stronger make demands of her and push her boundaries, but it had somewhat paradoxically helped boost her confidence as well. She wasn't quite the same woman that she had been a few months ago and there had been no soul manipulation involved either.

"I've never really been anything else." She said pensively. "I spent a couple of years working for the Ministry after I finished Hogwarts but then I heard that the Arithmancy post was free and came back. I've been here ever since."

"I'm not saying you have to leave if you don't want to." He said, grinning mischievously. "Maybe you can pick another student to play with."

"Harry." Septima said, scandalized. But on the other hand...

"Or maybe _two_ students." Harry went on, ignoring her protests as usual. "I hear the Weasley twins do everything together. I'm sure you could teach them a thing or two in their last year. Maybe you could even try your hand in the dominant role for a change and show them the price for breaking the rules. I could get you a leather corset, a whip and a set of crotchless panties."

"You are horrible." She moaned, hiding her face in his chest. Now she couldn't stop thinking of holding the two jokesters back after class and giving them some...encouragement in their studies. They could sandwich her between them, identical cocks taking one hole each... "Horrible!"

"I know." He grinned. "And I should probably be going. Keep the butt plug, I've removed the curse on it so you can play with it any time you want now."

Septima glanced at the item in question as Harry got dressed and already knew that it would be seeing a lot of use. She might have spent the whole day terrified that her dirty secret would somehow get out, but it certainly hadn't been _boring_. The gleam of firelight reflecting off its steel surface seemed to be beckoning her even now...

XXXXX

 _Meanwhile, in the Beauxbaton's carriages._

"You look different, happier." Apolline Delacour said as she took in her daughter. "Did you finally get that man you wanted?"

Fleur smiled at the thought of Harry. "Not exactly, we have an arrangement."

"An arrangement?" Apolline repeated skeptically. Veela did not have 'arrangements' with anyone except other veela.

"I know what you are thinking, but Harry is different." Fleur told her mother. "He is immune to the effects of the Allure and the Joining." She would not mention that he could perform the Joining himself. Some things were simply not talked about, even to one's mother.

"I see." Apolline said, blinking in surprise. If that knowledge circulated to the right people, there would be veela the length and breadth of Europe seeking him out for joyrides. "But how can that be?"

"He is just...so _strong_." Fleur shivered as she said it, remembering the power that filled her every time they slept together. And he had unreal stamina thanks to those runes of his.

He had eventually explained those to both her and Luna and they had sworn to keep it secret.

Apolline grinned at her daughter's reaction. That young man must really be something special to have affected her so. She couldn't wait to meet him.

"You are obviously infatuated with him." She said, still grinning. "Does he not feel the same?"

"He doesn't want to be in a relationship right now." Fleur answered evasively.

It was more complicated than that of course. Harry had apparently decided that he liked being single more than being in a relationship. Or perhaps he simply didn't want things getting too serious for fear of failure. Not to mention the omnipresent specter of Luna's own claim on him. Then there was his separate arrangement with his Arithmancy professor, which she knew he was having sex with at this very moment.

Fleur would not deny that she would be pleased if Harry decided to make theirs an official relationship, but she was also happy with what they had now. She didn't care about his promiscuity, it being less of a concern for veela than it would for a human woman. They were friends who had sex together and that was fine for now and for the foreseeable future. He would settle down eventually and she intended to be there when that happened.

And even if it didn't, Fleur had already determined that she would stay with him. She was happy and that was what counted. Eventually, she would want children and hoped that he would agree to be the father even if he didn't want to be involved in their upbringing. She sincerely doubted that she would ever be satisfied with a lesser wizard now that she had been with Harry, so it really was the only course of action available. But that was years in the future and not worth worrying about right now.

"He will not come to visit us in France then?" Apolline asked with a frown.

"Not over the summer, but he does want to travel and it shouldn't be hard to convince him to make a stop in France and spend some time with us." Fleur said and then hesitated. "Also, he invited me to join him on a private island in the tropics that his godfather owns..."

Apolline grinned again. "And you want to go?"

" _Maman_ , I am staying in Britain, with 'Arry." She hadn't outright asked Harry if she could live with him yet, but she had been feeling out how he felt about it during conversation and she was sure that he would agree to let her move into his manor. She didn't want to be left behind when he eventually decided to enact his travel plans.

Now Apolline had to struggle to keep her jaw from dropping. Her English hating daughter wanted to _stay_ here? Harry Potter must _really_ be something else. In fact, this was sounding worryingly like how a wizard would act after a veela decided to take him as a mate.

"Fleur, you know what these British think of us." She said delicately.

"I know, but it will only be for a few months. I will go with him and Luna when they start travelling. You know how I thought about becoming a curse-breaker? Well this sounds much more exciting."

Apolline was still worried about her daughter but recognized that there was nothing she could do about it at the moment. Fleur was an adult and would know the symptoms just as well as her, so if she was determined to go down this course then she could only support her. Though insidious and skewed in the veela's favor, the Joining made for some very happy spouses as long as they were taken care of. She would want to meet Harry Potter for herself, but Fleur was a smart girl and wouldn't recklessly throw herself under another's power.

If that was even what was going on and this wasn't just regular teenage infatuation. Veela weren't completely exempt from that growing pain even if they weren't human, it just functioned differently.

XXXXX

 **You may have noticed that there is about three times as much smut in this chapter as there was in the last one.**

 **Now I'm not being a liar here, I really did take to heart the words of those reviewers complaining about the porn and adjusted things accordingly. And by accordingly I obviously mean that I added more porn. I did this because my heart bleeds for those among you that are unable to handle the written descriptions of two(or more) people having sex (or being unable to scroll down the page if your delicate sensibilities suffer fatal damage), so I've given you more chances to build your character.**

 **Some may argue that I'm being an asshole by doing this or that all this porn is completely unnecessary, and they may be right, but I'm sure these same people will take great comfort in knowing that their opinions are utterly irrelevant. I know I do.**

 **On another note, not much Luna this chapter. I didn't have many places to put her and the chapter was getting ridiculously long anyway.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Much credit to Joe Lawyer for his services as a beta and sounding board for ideas.**

XXXXX

Fleur woke up at the crack of dawn as usual but didn't open her eyes yet, choosing instead to smile into Harry's chest and enjoy the moment.

She felt his manhood stirring shortly afterwards and knew that he was also awake. Her smile widened as he questing hand found it and started fondling it to full readiness.

Harry stiffened under her and she knew why. They weren't alone in the bed, Luna having joined them shortly after they were finished having sex. He was uncomfortable with her doing this while Luna was in bed with them.

But she didn't stop, smiling cheekily at him as she shimmied under the sheets. His attempts to stop her while also not waking up the other girl were entirely ineffectual and she had him in her mouth in short order.

Fleur relished the sense of power as she worked towards getting her morning treat. Harry liked to take control most of the time, so having him helpless like this was something that she was determined to enjoy.

A few minutes later, his hips made an involuntary jerk as he discharged into her mouth and Fleur held back a guttural moan as she swallowed his sweet tasting and potent sperm. Her body flushed with energy and her magic bloated in strength as if it had been given the mystical version of an adrenaline shot.

"What the hell?" Harry demanded quietly when she crawled back up to cuddle him.

"Ze third task eez today and I will need ze boost to compete against you." Fleur justified with a smirk. Doing that always made her horny, but she knew that he wouldn't want to do it with Luna in bed with them, so she would wait.

"Won't that wear off before it starts?" Harry questioned wryly.

Fleur's smirk widened. "I will 'ave to do eet again later zen."

"I suppose I could allow it, in the interest of international magical cooperation of course."

"That sounded like it was fun." Luna suddenly commented, her eyes still closed.

"Good morning, Luna." Harry said with a sigh. He'd felt her wake up just as Fleur was finishing.

"Good morning, Harry." Luna said, sitting up and yawning. She paid no heed to the fact that she was nude and displaying her small breasts for all to see.

" _Bonjour_." Fleur used the all purpose French greeting, also sitting up and paying just as little heed to her nudity as Luna.

"What was it like having Harry's penis in your mouth?" Luna asked out of the blue, making the wizard in question palm his face in exasperation.

"Tasty." Fleur knew that being a veela made the experience different for her, but he really didn't taste at all bad even without factoring in the magic surge.

"I'm going to take a bath." Harry said before the two of them could start any weird conversations. They got along _far_ too well.

"We will join you." Fleur said brightly.

"Give me ten minutes." He said as he got out of bed.

"Alright." The veela said, only slightly put out. She knew that Harry needed his space or else he got grouchy and irritable.

"Are you going to play with your penis, Harry?" Luna asked, cocking her head to the side like a curious puppy.

"No, I am not going to play with my penis." Harry sighed.

"Was it something I said?" Luna asked Fleur cluelessly as the bathroom door closed.

" _Non_ , I zink 'Arry was just uncomfortable. 'E does not know what to do about your interest in sex." Fleur explained.

"Oh." Luna said, blinking dreamily as she considered that. "But he doesn't have to do anything if he doesn't want to."

Fleur had to chuckle at the way the other girl's mind worked. Even if she asked for things, she never got upset if someone didn't want to do them. To her it was simply common sense that you couldn't make other people do anything if they didn't want to, so it followed that it was ridiculous to get upset over it. What a lovely place the world would be if everyone was like her.

"Don't worry, Luna, everyzzing will turn out fine." She reassured.

"Okay." Luna chirped. "Can we practice kissing while we wait for Harry's ten minutes to be over?"

" _Oui_." Fleur said with a smile and scooted closer to the younger girl that she was sure she would one day be sharing Harry with. They had become good friends over the past month so the prospect was far from unpleasant.

XXXXX

In one of those feats of perfect timing that only happened in anime and ill-considered fiction, Harry's basilisk hide coat was delivered shortly before the third task was set to begin.

This feat of unbelievable timing was mostly due to Sirius convincing Penny that it would be a nice surprise to spring on Harry. And also because Sirius was a big man-child and wanted to keep the coat for himself for a few days, despite the fact that it was too big for him.

Harry couldn't really blame him for that as it really did look cool. Bryanna and Tiana had outdone themselves with the design and the hide worker had been able to turn it into reality perfectly.

It was a very dark grey color and didn't reflect light quite as much as normal snake skin, though the scales unmistakably came from a snake. The nearly fist sized scales would probably baffle anyone who didn't know about the size of the basilisk that had donated them however.

The coat itself hung down to his ankles and was quite a bit thicker and heavier than Harry had expected it to be, but maybe he _should_ have expected it since it was primarily armor. It wasn't unbearable, but it wasn't something that he'd want to wear just for the sake of wearing it either. The acromantula silk lining the inside felt very pleasant on the skin though, especially with the temperature regulating charms on it.

It had several pockets both on the inside and outside, all of them enchanted to be much bigger than they should be. A similar pocket-like slit on the inner side of his back hid a deep hood that was enchanted to cast most of his face into shadow when worn.

A pair of comfortable basilisk hide boots completed the outfit.

"How do I look?" He asked.

"Intimidating." Luna said dreamily, staring up at his shadowed face. Aside from his lower jaw, the only thing that was visible about him was his eyes. "But you would have to grow a goatee if you ever plan on going evil."

"I'll keep it in mind." Harry grinned wryly and took the hood off. "Now let's see how this closing thing works..."

He took hold of the open front end of the coat and peered at the strip of acromantula silk that was sown into it. It was a bit harder to decipher the enchantment since the silk was already innately magical and muddled up the signature a bit, but it didn't take too much effort to make it out since the enchantment was rigidly structured and the innate magic was more 'freeform'.

"A Severing Charm? Self-targeted too and...conditional? Ah, I see. It activates when you pull on it hard enough. Clever." He muttered. It would act a lot like a zipper or velcro strap.

"There's another bit of acromantula silk hidden here." Luna pointed out, dragging her finger horizontally across the coat where a small, almost unnoticeable flap was.

"Probably to attach it on the other side." Harry said with a nod. That would not only keep one end of the coat from hanging limply and looking silly, but also cover his chest with two layers of basilisk hide. That was probably overkill, but he wasn't going to complain.

He went ahead and closed the coat and tied it off at the waist with the strap of basilisk hide. Then he proceeded to stretch his arms, roll his shoulders, pace up and down the room, squat and generally test what it was like to move in his new armor.

"Not bad." He declared at length. It was a little bit restrictive, but nothing he couldn't get used to easily enough. The high magic resistance of the garment was well worth the minor discomfort.

XXXXX

Harry's arrival to the remodeled quidditch pitch started up a lot of whispering, pointing and staring as people tried to figure out what was with the new look. Nothing new there really. Harry had become such a rare sight to the Hogwarts general population that his presence was almost inevitably remarked upon.

He tracked Luna's progress across the stands and smiled in satisfaction when she sat down next to Sirius and Penny.

His gaze swung over to the side where he caught sight of Adrastia sitting by herself. She gave him a little wave that he didn't return. No need to be giving the woman(or anyone else for that matter) any ideas.

Fleur wasn't there yet, but there was still time left before the third task started.

Lacking anything better to do, Harry decided to take a look at the maze that the Ministry had set up. He knew that there had been a lot of moaning about the cancellation of quidditch this year, which had baffled him considerably. It wasn't as if the pitch was occupied the whole year, nor did the tournament really take up that much time. It was almost like people couldn't focus on two things happening in the same year.

Well it wasn't like it affected him, but Harry did find himself curious about something Herbology related for the first time in quite a while. This giant hedge had been grown rather quickly. He wondered if that was unique to this particular plant species, or if it could be done with anything. Maybe it only worked on non-magical species? The hedge didn't look especially magical to his eyes. Maybe dragon shit was really just that good as fertilizer.

The only other interesting thing going on at the moment was the heavy auror presence. Aurors patrolling on foot and aurors flying above the maze on brooms. Bones was apparently not willing to chance any repeats of the second task debacle. He could already hear the conversation that the DMLE director must have had with Fudge; 'just think of the public reaction to the Boy-Who-Lived being killed in the third task, Minister'. Fudge would have folded like a deck of cards.

A smile grew on his face when he saw that one of the flying aurors had pink hair and he waved at her. She noticed and flew towards him.

"Cool outfit." Tonks complimented as she stopped next to him.

"Thanks." Harry replied with a smile, patting his chest. "All basilisk hide and acromantula silk."

The Metamorphmagus gave an impressed whistle. "Fancy. And probably worth more than what I make in a year. Or maybe a decade."

"If you tried to buy the hide, then yeah, probably." Harry admitted. "Fortunately I already had it, so all I had to pay for was the silk and the work."

"You know, I've always wanted a pair of basilisk hide boots." Tonks hinted blatantly, starting up an old running gag.

"They are pretty comfortable." Harry said obtusely, lifting one leg to show off his own basilisk hide boots.

"Christmas will be coming up in a few months." Tonks continued hinting.

"I'm not sure if six counts as 'a few'." He dryly noted.

"It does." She said authoritatively.

"It does not." Harry argued. "Two is a couple, three or four is a few and five is five. Six is half a dozen, which is half of a dozen, which is already quite a lot."

"Don't fight me on this Harry, I'm the auror, that means that I get to make the rules." Tonks retorted, feigning aggravation.

"No, it means you get to push the rules that some higher up imagined into being on everyone else. Fortunately for me, I'm an _individualist_ and thus disdainful of authority."

Tonks narrowed her eyes. "Resisting the commands of an auror is illegal."

"Are you going to arrest me, _Nymphadora?_ " He grinned cheekily.

"Just for that one, I actually might." She glowered.

"On what charge?" He asked curiously.

"Hoarding illegal goods." She stated with certainty. "You're obviously guilty, just look at all that sexy hide that you're refusing to share."

"Ah, so now we come to the crux of the matter." Harry nodded sagely. "Greed, envy and abuse of power, all the usual things for the Ministry of Magic."

"I wouldn't have to abuse my auror authority if you would just agree to give me a pair of snazzy basilisk hide boots." Tonks pouted, her eyes shifting in size until they were big and shining.

"You look like something out of Sailor Moon." Harry said dryly. "All you need is a foofy little skirt."

Tonks huffed and continued pouting, though with normal eyes. "Fine, be that way."

"How've you been, Dora?" Harry asked after a few seconds, seeing that the playful bickering had come to a stop.

"Not bad." She shrugged. "I didn't pull the crap assignment for once, so I'll get to watch you compete from the air instead of walking circles around the pitch."

"Bones expecting trouble?" He asked.

"I don't think so, but it's been bugging her that we weren't able to identify that second assassin and she doesn't want any repeats." She said with a shake of her head. "We'll be there at the award ceremony tomorrow too."

Harry gave a non-committal humm. The auror presence for this event would probably keep Malfoy's hands tied and by this time tomorrow, Harry intended for the man to be dead. Having aurors see it happen hadn't been part of the plan, but it didn't really change anything. The whole thing would be nice and legal...technically.

"You nervous?" Tonks asked when he didn't say anything in response.

"Not really." Harry shrugged. "This tournament hasn't been all that challenging so far, discounting the assassination attempts obviously."

"Just be careful, will you?" The Metamorphmagus cautioned. "Some of the stuff I've seen them put in there is pretty dangerous."

"I'm sure you'll swoop in to save me if I get in over my head." He joked.

"And then I'll hold it over you until you give me a pair of basilisk hide boots." She agreed and looked over his shoulder. "Here comes your competition."

Harry turned around and saw the Fleur was indeed approaching. Ooh boy, this may or may not be interesting.

" _Bonjour_ , 'Arry." The veela greeted when she arrived. "'Oo eez your friend?"

"Fleur, meet Nymphadora Tonks. Dora, Fleur Delacour." Harry introduced, feeling that nebulous sense of doom that always gripped the hearts of men when they ended up stuck between two strong-willed women.

" _Enchanté_." Fleur said, smiling at the auror as she stepped up to Harry in a subtly possessive manner. It wasn't a deliberate gesture really, but she felt somewhat threatened by the older witch who was more powerful than her and quite beautiful in her own right. She could see why Harry had liked her.

That Harry liked her wasn't the problem. Fleur was sure that she would like her too given what she had heard about her. The problem was that Harry had been in a real relationship with the older witch while Fleur herself was being kept at the friend stage. This Nymphadora still had every chance of coming back and neatly ruining all of her plans.

The worst part was that she couldn't even do anything about it. The multiple Joinings and conversations with Harry had imparted to Fleur a certain understanding of him. He was more careful now and approached love and relationships as if they were a venomous snake. His introverted nature did not allow him to simply shrug off the failure of his first relationship and he was unwilling to commit to anything new until it ceased to weigh on his mind. Any woman would experience the same arm's length treatment right now.

Except perhaps the auror in front of her, who had a backdoor past his defences.

"A pleasure." Tonks replied, feeling her body rearrange itself in all sorts of subtle ways to be more attractive in response to the veela's presence. In spite of – or perhaps because of – her shapeshifting ability, Tonks had always been a bit self-conscious about her appearance and seeing the supernaturally beautiful French girl make her subtle claim on Harry was not helping. It wasn't hard to guess that the two had started sleeping together since the last time that she'd spoken to him.

"'Arry, what eez this coat and where did you get eet?" Fleur asked, squeezing his biceps, both to subtly flirt and to get a feel for the material.

"Basilisk hide, it just arrived today." He shrugged.

"A basilisk?" Fleur repeated in shock.

Tonks watched as Harry gave the impressed veela the cliff notes version of his second year at Hogwarts, the unpleasant burn of jealousy forming in her gut. It had been so much easier to accept that Harry would be with other women when it was just words. Seeing it was harder than she thought it would be.

"I should get back to my post." She said, keeping her tone neutral. She had been the one to end it between her and Harry, so she had no business being jealous. That didn't mean she wanted to watch this though.

"Oh." Harry said, disappointed. "It was nice talking to you again, Dora. I guess I'll see you again after the task or tomorrow?"

"Sure." Tonks nodded and started rising into the air on her broom. "Good luck!"

"Thanks." Harry called after her, his shoulders slumping a fraction after she was gone. He had been able to sense the discomfort in his ex-girlfriend and suspected that their vacation time would not be all smooth sailing. Damn but he hated all this emotional crap, it was just so exhausting.

"She seemed nice." Fleur offered. Her instincts urged her to try turning Harry against a possible rival, but that could only backfire with him. Harry was not some average wizard that could easily be manipulated and compromises had to be made. Veela were used to making compromises where love was concerned. Monogamy was not in their nature, more mates meaning more magic, but they confined themselves for the sake of fitting in with the humans. In recent times, now that mates were true partners instead of concubines, many disliked the way their Allure affected them, but they sucked it up because the alternative was to stay alone or content themselves with fellow veela, neither of which was anywhere near as good as a proper mate.

In comparison, being nice to Harry's ex-girlfriend and staying patient was a small price to pay. His magic was powerful and his stamina great enough to satisfy even a veela's appetites. Moreover, he was someone that she genuinely liked as a man. To keep what she had now and perhaps build on it in the future, she could be patient.

"She is nice." Harry agreed.

"Come, I zink ze task eez about to start." Fleur said, gently bumping his shoulder with her own.

They made their way to the entrance of the maze where an excited Ludo Bagman looked as if he was about to wet himself. That's the impression he was giving with his hopping from one leg to another at any rate.

"Alright there, Harry?" The former professional quidditch player asked brightly, ignoring Fleur entirely.

"Fine." Harry grunted shortly, his dislike of the man clear to anyone with a brain. Ludo was unfortunately not one of these people.

"Great!" Bagman beamed. "We'll be starting in just a few minutes." And with that he toddled off.

"Wanker." Harry muttered once he was gone.

" _Branleur_." Fleur agreed.

Harry snorted in amusement and decided to move on to something more interesting than insulting an idiot in multiple languages. "Ready to lose, Fleur?"

"Hmph, we will zee 'oo loses." The veela said haugtily with a toss of her silver-blonde hair.

"Confident are we?" He teased. "Would you care to make a bet on the outcome then?"

Fleur raised an elegant eyebrow, intrigued. "Ze stakes?"

"Hmmmm, if I win...you have to wear a sexy French maid outfit and stay in character for three days. You will do everything I say and speak in a perpetually breathy tone of voice." He had already agreed to have her move in with him and received a few off color jokes from Sirius about it, the maid thing being one of them.

Fleur stared at him in shock for a few seconds before smirking evilly. "Zen if I win, you will 'ave to dress as an English butler and stay in character for a week. You will also of course do everyzzing I say."

"That seems a bit unbalanced." Harry pointed out.

"You 'ave a 'eadstart." Fleur countered. She was slightly behind in points and would start later because of it.

"True." He admitted. "I suppose it doesn't matter anyway. It's not like you're going to win."

"Hmph, your British arrogance will be ze end of you."

"It's not arrogance if it's the truth."

Further bickering was interrupted as Bagman's voice echoed loudly across the area. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the third and final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament! Soon, the two remaining champions will compete against each other for the honor of their respective schools!..."

Bagman's tedius speech only went on for another blessedly short minute before he got to the point. "So...on my whistle, Harry!" He cried, starting the obligatory countdown.

"May the best man win!" Harry said to Fleur just before the whistle sounded.

He could almost feel the heat of her indignant glower against his back.

XXXXX

Harry walked into the maze and quickly hit a fork in the road.

"To go left or to go right? Truly, t'was a conundrum that hath plagued Mankind for eons beyond reckoning." He intoned to himself with solemn sarcasm.

The answer was of course neither, because allowing your perceptions to become mired in the restrictions of the physical world was a trap of the mind that limited a wizard's potential. So instead of going left or right, Harry cast a powerful Cutting Curse into the hedge and then cast another spell to wedge it open. Then he stepped through and let it close behind him.

Seeing that the path forward was now open, he continued his walk.

XXXXX

 _Up in the sky._

Tonks was laughing herself silly as she saw Harry going literally _through_ the maze.

"That's just cheating." Shacklebolt grumbled from next to her. He had bet on the veela to win.

XXXXX

Fleur jogged into the maze at a steady pace, knowing that she'd need to hurry if she wanted to win. She turned right at the first fork without really thinking about it. It probably didn't matter in the end anyway.

Less than half a minute into the maze and she ran into a group pixies. The annoying little pests made a bee-line towards her only to get scared off by a blast of flame.

Fleur huffed and continued onwards. She had to assume that there would be more dangerous things waiting up ahead, or else this was going to be a fairly ridiculous task.

XXXXX

Harry's feet stopped moving when he saw the dementor and his head cocked to the side. No, not a dementor. It had only a tiny speck of Dark. A boggart. How cute.

"The Dark holds no more terrors for me." He told the shapeshifting non-being and walked past it.

Apparently miffed by the dismissal, the boggart grabbed his shoulder as he passed it, forcing him to stop. Harry turned to look at it and stared at its now unhooded face.

A few tufts of long black hair still clung to the skull and empty eyesockets peered out of a hollowed, beef jerky version of his own face. It probably wasn't an accurate depiction of a dementor since the soul harvesters were only partially physical, but it was the image that Harry's mind had conjured up.

"Alright, so maybe the Dark holds _one_ more terror for me." Harry conceded, his eyes starting to glow as he pulled on what Light he could reach now that the Sun had set.

Fortunately, he didn't need much. Once he had it, he slammed his palm against the boggart's chest and released it, banishing the speck of Dark that lay at its core. The boggart dispersed out of existence without a sound.

"You should have stuck to jump scares."

XXXXX

 _Up in the sky._

"Did he just kill a boggart with a _punch_?" Shacklebolt goggled.

"Looks like it." Tonks agreed, only slight less shocked.

That wasn't supposed to be possible.

XXXXX

Harry stared.

He'd cheesed his way through several more hedges and apparently avoided most of the obstacles that the maze had to offer, only to run into a sphinx of all things at what was probably the final stretch.

The female face on it was quite beautiful, with deeply tanned skin and almond shaped eyes, though much larger than a normal woman's head would be. It was mounted on a similarly oversized lion body. The fusion of these features brought to mind uncomfortable questions.

"Hello." He ventured cautiously. She may be placid right now, but he could sense a powerful magic emanating from the sphinx and would not take her lightly.

"Greetings." The sphinx responded, her voice jarringly deep and hoarse coming from such a feminine face. "Your progress has been swift and you are very near now to your goal, the quickest way is past me."

"What's the catch?" Harry asked.

"You must unravel my riddle. Guess correctly and you may pass, answer wrongly and I attack, decline to answer and you may go unscathed."

"Ah, that cliché." Harry nodded. "For a second there I thought it would actually be something more original."

The sphinx quirked an eyebrow at the strange reaction but remained silent.

"Before we begin, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" It wasn't every day that you got to talk to a sphinx and he should still have plenty of time to get the cup before Fleur stumbled her way through the maze.

She cocked her head sideways at the odd request. "You may ask, but I may not answer."

"Could you tell me how your kind came into being? I can't imagine that yours is a natural evolution." He inquired, conjuring a stool for himself to sit on.

XXXXX

 _Up in the sky._

"Is he chatting up the sphinx?" Shacklebolt asked, once again baffled.

"He's probably curious about something." Tonks replied despairingly. _Damn it Harry, I've got money on you. Go win the bloody tournament already!_

XXXXX

The sphinx remained silent long enough for Harry to start wondering whether it had been altogether wise to ask that question. The Ministry of Magic almost definitely classified sphinxes as beasts, but her eyes held a vast intelligence that made him even more wary of crossing her than her size and obvious power.

"You ask questions that few have bothered to ask in recent times, Spellweaver." She finally said.

"I'm a curious guy." Harry shrugged unapologetically. He wondered about the strange form of address, but put it aside for now.

"So you are." She agreed. "Very well, I shall answer."

"As you have surmised, we were not born of natural means. Pharaoh Djoser wished for powerful magical guardians and commanded his sorcerers to provide them. We were made to fulfill this command, though Pharaoh Djoser did not live to see it done."

"But how?" Harry asked, unsatisfied with the answer.

"You ask what you already know." The sphinx told him with a humorless smile. "Lions were made to breed with slave women and powerful magic was weaved into the resulting offspring."

"I see." Harry said, pursing his lips. It wasn't the first time that he'd heard of magic allowing crossbreeding between species that had no business crossbreeding. Just like she had said, he had known the origins of the sphinxes the moment he had laid eyes on her. The slave women had probably been untrained witches, as he didn't think it would have worked otherwise. He'd been hoping that he was wrong, hoping that the truth wouldn't be as cruel as usual. "I'm sorry."

"Do not mourn for us, young one. We were made to guard, not to feel. So we guard, and do not feel."

"It's still a shitty thing to do." He muttered. Some sick fucker had probably done something similar to make the centaurs for whatever reason. No wonder they had such a poor opinion of wizards.

"Are you prepared to answer my riddle?" The sphinx asked, clearly closing the topic.

"Sure, let's hear it." Harry nodded, shaking off the pity he felt for her.

" _It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,_

 _Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt._

 _It lies behind stars and under hills,_

 _And empty holes it fills._

 _It comes first and follows after,_

 _Ends life, kills laughter._ " The sphinx recited.

Harry nearly toppled from his conjured stool in shock. The riddle was familiar and the answer close to his heart, but that wasn't important. The important part was that he strongly doubted that the sphinx had picked a riddle like this by accident. It simply couldn't be a coincidence.

"What do you know?" He demanded more harshly than he intended.

"Answer my riddle or I must attack." The sphinx warned.

Harry took a deep breath to calm down. Freaking out wouldn't do any good. "Darkness."

The sphinx smiled and moved aside to let him pass, but Harry didn't move from his stool.

"Why did you ask me that riddle?" He asked.

"I bar the way until my riddle is answered." She answered unhelpfully.

"But why _that_ riddle?"

The sphinx smiled, but said nothing.

Harry sighed and stood up. Apparently she was going to leave him in the dark, no pun intended. "It was nice talking to you."

"May the Sun light your way, Spellweaver." The sphinx replied as he moved past her.

Harry instantly turned back to look at her. That couldn't have been a coincidence either. She met his gaze with the calm of a Buddhist monk, waiting. He wanted to ask what the hell she meant by that, but if past experience was any judge then direct questions were useless.

"Why do you call me that?" He asked instead. He had sometimes thought of casting spells as weaving them, largely due to the D&D concept of 'the Weave', but she couldn't possibly know that. This was something else.

"I cannot say." The sphinx replied with an enigmatic smile. She seemed...pleased? He couldn't tell.

"Why not?"

"My lips are sewn shut."

"By spells?" He guessed. She had mentioned something about magic being weaved into the sphinxes when they were born...

She smiled again, but did not speak.

Harry had the sense that the sphinx was trying to tell him something without actually telling him, a secret that she wanted to share but was compelled to guard. She was using this conversation to hint at something, might have only deigned to humor his curiousity for that exact purpose, but to what end he couldn't perceive.

He opened his mouth to ask another question but she cut him off.

"We speak no more."

Harry's mouth snapped shut with an audible click and he nodded. He knew a warning when he heard one and surmised that any further attempts to pry would have unfavorable consequences. He would need to figure the rest out on his own, if he could. Well, he'd been planning to go to Egypt eventually anyway so this was just extra incentive.

"Thank you and goodbye." He said instead and made his way further into the maze, his mind already chewing over the words of the sphinx in an attempt to divine what she had been trying to tell him.

XXXXX

 _Up in the sky._

"Why is that acromantula _running away_?" Shacklebolt grumbled.

"Must be the basilisk hide." Tonks replied, grinning.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Spiders are terrified of basilisks." She explained, having learned this when Harry had explained his second year to her.

"That kid has the most ridiculous luck." Shacklebolt grumbled some more.

"Cheer up, Shack." Tonks tried. "Harry wasted so much time with that sphinx that Delacour actually still has a chance to...wait, nevermind. The acromantula is heading right at her."

Shacklebolt sighed in resignation and consoled himself with the knowledge that he didn't _really_ need those galleons he'd bet on this. Would have been nice though.

XXXXX

The Tri-Wizard Cup was a Portkey.

Harry figured that it would _probably_ deposit him to the front of the maze if he touched it, but he was far too distrustful to ever touch a portkey that he didn't know the destination of with 100% certainty.

So he sighed and began unraveling the Portkey enchantment. He'd just have to lug it back on foot, or maybe Apparate. It wasn't like people would be able to tell the difference. Or maybe he could make his own Portkey, that would probably be for the best.

"Step away from ze cup." Came a sexy growl from behind.

"Hello, Fleur." Harry greeted, turning around and taking in the bedraggled veela. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were dirty and torn in places and she looked thoroughly annoyed. "Did you have fun in the maze?"

Fleur glared at the amused wizard. Where did he get off looking fresh as a daisy?

" _Non_ , I did not 'ave fun in ze maze!" She growled.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Harry said sincerely.

Fleur was not listening though and wanted to vent. "Eet waz not zo difficult at first, but zen some _fils de salope_ zought that a giant scorpion with magic deflecting _armure_ and a rocket boost growing out of eet's _cul_ would make a good challenge."

 _Ah, Hagrid's_ _blast-ended skrewts. I remember Luna telling me about those. Yet another example of crossbreeding that should never have happened. Honestly, who wakes up in the morning and goes 'hmm, I think I'll crossbreed a manticore and a fire-crab, yup, yup.'_ Harry thought to himself, but wisely didn't speak. Given how often Fleur was slipping into French, she probably wasn't in the mood to listen to anyone.

"And zen, just as I zink that eet eez over, ze biggest, ugliest _araignée_ I 'ave ever zeen nearly eats me!"

 _That would probably be the scuttling noise I heard earlier. It must have gotten spooked by the basilisk hide. Heh._

"And _zen_ I find you 'ere, looking as eef you 'ave done nothing 'arder zan taking a walk." The veela finished with a growl.

 _Which is pretty much exactly what I did._

"Do you want a hug?" He asked, lips twitching into a smile.

"What I want eez zat cup, and to 'ave you waiting on me 'and and foot for ze next week." Fler growled once more.

"I'm sorry, but that's just not going to happen." Harry replied with false regret. "I will make sure that your maid uniform is extra sexy though."

Fleur didn't reply with any witty banter, but with a stunner.

Harry had honestly not been expecting such a dirty trick and could only instinctively cross his arms over his face in a warding gesture, by now automatically calling on his magic to block the spell. It may have been enough to protect him, but it was a moot point anyway since the spell splashed harmlessly against his basilisk hide covered chest.

He rocked back on his heels and patted the point of impact with his right hand, blinking.

"Sweet." Harry said with a grin.

" _Merde_." Fleur whispered. She'd forgotten about the basilisk hide in her frustration.

She reflexively cast a shield to block the expected retaliation, only to cry out in dismay as her footing turned into thick mud. The conjured ropes that followed afterwards she managed to cut before they could bind her, but the Disarming Hex hit her dead on and tore the wand from her hand.

"That was damned cheeky of you." Harry said, smiling slightly.

Fleur said nothing and kept her head high as she pulled herself out of the transfigured quagmire that her feet were trapped in, ignoring the undignified sucking noises the mud made with every step. She knew perfectly well that what she'd done hadn't been especially honorable, but she was already tired from the maze whereas Harry was still fresh and he wasn't handicapping himself by refusing to use a wand this time. A cheap shot had been her only real chance of getting that cup.

"Well played, 'Arry." She said calmly once she was out of the mud. She may have lost, but she would be gracious about it. She may have to dress and act like a maid in a bad porno for three days, but a bet was a bet and she wouldn't chicken out of it. Nobody was going to say that Fleur Delacour was a sore loser.

XXXXX

 _Hogwarts grounds, the next day. Champion award ceremony._

"Congratulations on your victory, Mr. Potter!"

"Thank you." Harry smiled fakely at the smarmy man whose name he'd already forgotten.

People had been tripping over themselves to congratulate him ever since yesterday, most of them so obviously sucking up that they may as well have replaced their mouths with toilet plungers. Some had been genuine, others had wanted something. All had been annoying.

But despite all that, Harry was still in a grimly good mood, because this was the day that Lucius Malfoy died and that was worth shaking hands with a few of these witless morons.

He cast his eyes around the impromptu outdoor ball, noting people of interest.

Fudge was flittering all over the place, trying to talk to as many people as possible. No doubt this whole shebang was his idea of raising his own popularity, the twit.

Ludo Bagman was doing pretty much the same thing as Fudge, but with more bouncing. Those two were like a pair of retarded dumplings.

Amelia Bones was standing off to the side, looking as if she was about to crush her monocle with her eye socket given how pronounced her frown was. She was probably about as amused by this as him. Standing next to her was a man with a lion's mane of tawny hair and who appeared about as happy to be here as Bones. That was Rufus Scrimgeour no doubt, the humorless bastard as Dora called him.

The reason for their sour expressions were no doubt the multitude of free roaming Death Eaters pretending to be civilized. Of those he could recognize, Crabbe and Goyle senior were destroying the buffet, Malfoy and Parkinson were talking some distance away while their wives gossiped or whatever it was that stuck up bitches did when they got together. There were probably more, but he couldn't identify them by sight. Their various brats were also present and trying to look dignified. Except for Draco, who was shooting glares in his direction every few minutes.

 _Wait just a little longer, you little shit. I'll give you something to glare about._ Harry thought darkly.

Sirius was chatting with what looked to be some old friends. Or perhaps flirting with some new ones.

Percy was present as well, hovering at the side of a nervous looking man that might be the most recent appointment to the post of DIMC Director. He didn't look too happy, probably already missing the illusion of power he'd had while temporarily running the department. The rest of the Weasleys were spread out like a ginger net across the area.

Karkaroff was sulking in a corner.

Dora was making rounds with her fellow aurors. He hadn't been able to exchange more than a few words with her because she didn't want to look like she was slacking off in front of her boss.

Fleur was present too of course, looking beautiful as ever in a pale blue dress as she talked to her family and Madam Maxime.

Luna was currently spending some time with Ginny, knowing that they wouldn't be coming back to Hogwarts next year.

Dumbledore and the rest of Hogwarts staff was miling about. Well...most of them. Harry could see Septima shifting in her seat as she talked to what was probably the mother of one of her students. The light flush on her face _could_ be atributted to the summer heat(as hot as it ever got this far north that was), but Harry was quite sure that it was due to something else entirely. He was going to miss the subby Arithmancy professor.

"I should hope you'll be more cheerful on our Christmas date." A familiar voice sounded from a familiar presence.

Of course the party wouldn't be complete without Adrastia showing up.

"Cheerfulness wasn't part of our deal." Harry retorted, turning to look at the woman.

Apparently she had felt like wearing red today, not that she didn't look amazing in that tight dress and plunging neckline.

"Very well then. If you are so determined to sulk, then I shan't stop you." Adrastia replied with a smile. "Is today going to be more exciting than yesterday?"

Harry knew this wasn't just a dig at the Ministry's lack of foresight with the organization of the last two tasks. "Yep, as soon as Fudge hands over that trophy."

Adrastia hummed in acknowledgement and leaned closer so that her next words wouldn't be overheard. "I would advise you not to cast Narcissa out of the family just yet, only threaten to do it."

"Why?" Harry asked, equally quietly.

"There is no time to explain fully right now, but it may bring unexpected benefits to you in the future." Was her unhelpful answer.

"And you couldn't have mentioned these 'unexpected benefits' the last time we spoke?" Harry spoke through gritted teeth, deeply annoyed.

"But then what excuse would I have to visit your lovely manor again?" Adrastia riposted with a big smile.

"I hate you so much, you manipulative bitch." He muttered.

"I am not usually impressed by flattery, but I will make an exception in your case." She said magnanimously.

"You're so kind." Harry retorted sarcastically.

"I know, but I must leave you now." Adrastia nodded her head at Fleur and her family, who had begun making their way towards them. "Your newest plaything apparently wants to introduce you to her parents."

She turned and left before Harry could reply, leaving him muttering to himself. "Bitch."

"'Arry." Fleur greeted once she came into speaking range, wondering who the dark skinned witch he'd been talking to earlier was but deciding not to mention it.

"Fleur." He nodded back.

"I would like you to meet my parents, Sebastien and Apolline Delacour and of course my sister Gabrielle."

" _Enchanté_ , it is a pleasure to finally meet you." Apolline said as she extended her hand for him to kiss, the purr of her French accented English considerably smoother than Fleur's.

"Likewise." Harry said as he kissed her knuckles, inwardly amused by how similar this was to his first meeting with Fleur.

It wasn't quite the same though. Apolline Delacour's aura was both more and less controlled than her daughter's. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it was more restrained, but less...satisfied. He could easily guess at the reason thanks to regularly having sex with Fleur. The elder veela's husband couldn't keep up with her sexual appetite. No surprise there really, he would probably have problems keeping up with Fleur without his runes too.

Apolline smiled at the man her daughter had chosen for herself, hiding her surprise at just how powerful his magic was. No wonder her daughter was so attracted to him, added to his good looks it would have been strange if she wasn't. She was still worried about what exactly the dynamic between them was, but had a good impression so far. She could find out more later, when there were less people around.

Harry was unaware of Apolline's thoughts as he shook hands with Sebastien, deeply amused when he felt the stronger-than-necessary squeeze. Fleur's father was apparently trying to intimidate him, which was doomed to failure from the start. Harry's height had topped off at just under 6'3'' and he could tell that the 5'11'' or so Sebastien Delacour was not even close to him as far as magical power went. Intimidation only worked if you weren't patently weaker than the person you were trying to intimidate and Harry wasn't impressed by his status as Fleur's father either.

Amusingly enough, the beaming eight year old next to the man was far more intimidating for Harry. He had no idea what to do with children this young and felt terribly awkward having to interact with them.

"And you I've already met, haven't I?" He asked, hiding his uncertainty.

Harry had been getting a feel for French thanks to Fleur, but he had no hope of understanding the babbled sentence the young veela spoke before she launched herself at him and hugged his leg.

Harry blinked in surprise and helplessly turned to Fleur for help. "Err, is this normal?"

"I apologise for my daughter, Mr. Potter. She has been excited to meet you." Apolline said, dragging her pouting daughter away. While what she said was true, she had neglected to mention that veela were a very touchy people and the draw of Harry's magic had likely been too much for the young Gabrielle to resist. She wasn't old enough yet to get the predatory sexual urges associated with her nature, but that part was present from birth.

"Quite alright, and please call me Harry." He said, giving a smile towards the young veela that was happily returned. The little one's aura was notably lacking in any kind of restraint, but it was also much closer to human than her sister's or mother's. Did that change during puberty? How interesting.

They spent the next several minutes talking of largely inconsequential things that never got the chance to go anywhere because Fudge took that time to climb up on the temporary stage and get to the point.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we've had quite the exciting year, haven't we?" Fudge tried for a joke. It fell rather flat. "Yes, well anyway, despite experiencing certain difficulties over the course of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, we do at last have a champion! Harry Potter of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Come up here, Harry!"

Harry quirked a sardonic eyebrow at Fudge's pussyfooting around the death of Krum in the first task and the assassination attempt during the second, but joined the fat idiot without comment.

"It is my pleasure to present to you the Tri-Wizard Cup, to be held by Hogwarts until the next tournament!" Fudge said loudly, presenting him with the admittedly beautiful trophy.

There was a loud applause from the spectators and Harry somewhat awkwardly raised the damn thing in a victorious gesture, inwardly scoffing at the notion that there would be another tournament. This one was supposed to foster international magical cooperation, but had probably ended up being a diplomatic disaster. Unless you counted him and Fleur, that had certainly been some successful international relations right there.

"And of course, the thousand galleon prize!" Fudge went on, now handing over a money pouch with the aforementioned prize.

Harry idly wondered how much of an insult it would be if he started counting it.

"Now let's have a word from our champion!"

 _We'll have a word alright, you greedy bastard._ Harry thought maliciously, annoyed by Fudge's none too subtle attempt to associate himself with some good press.

"I'm afraid I'm a man of few words, so I'll keep this short." Harry began. "It has been, as Minister has said, quite an exciting year. I've made some good friends." He gave Fleur a nod at this, just to give the papers something to talk about, though it probably wouldn't even be remembered given what else he had planned. "And I've learned some interesting things. One of these interesting things is the knowledge that participation in the Tri-Wizard Tournament was once considered a rite of adulthood and that has never been repealed, so I have effectively become Lord Potter as of today."

A ripples of shock complete with gasps went through the crowd at this. Most people were excited about this unexpected development like the gossips they were, but some suddenly looked worried.

"Another thing I've learned is that there isn't much left for me in Hogwarts, so I will not be returning next year."

The shock was more pronounced this time, as was the worry.

"But, Harry, what about your OWLS and your NEWTS?" Dumbledore asked, looking uncommonly flustered.

"Hold your questions until the end please, Headmaster." Harry said firmly. Not that anyone would think him leaving Hogwarts was important in a few minutes.

More shocked staring ensued. None of those present could recall ever seeing Albus Dumbledore receving a verbal slap like that, even if it _had_ been warranted.

"Luna Lovegood will also not be returning in September."

"But, Harry-!" Dumbledore tried again, looking even more off-kilter. This was all wrong! Harry was supposed to stay in Hogwarts!

"Headmaster." Harry snapped, cutting the old man off. "I am not finished."

Dumbledore could only stare in shock at the much younger wizard at being so harshly shut down. Everything was all wrong. How could this possibly be happening?

"Now for the next important bit of information, I must temporarily give the word to my godfather, as this is his to say more than mine. Come up here, Sirius."

The dog Animagus trotted up to the stage, grinning widely at all the slack jaws he was seeing. His godson sure had pulled one hell of a prank on people.

"Those of you familiar with me will know that I'm not the most serious individual, even though I've been Sirius since I was born."

Groans sounded from several throats at the horrible pun, though it also reinforced his point.

"Ask anyone you want and they'll tell you that I'm barely fit to take care of myself, much less anyone else. Which is why I'm gleefully abdicating my position and letting my godson deal with the baggage of being Lord Black. Good riddance to it."

There were quite a few family heads present, and every last one of them was outraged at the casual disregard Sirius was showing , even those who had never liked the Blacks. The outrage was easier to digest than the knowledge that Harry Potter was now the head of two families at least.

Harry took over once again, just as they had practiced. Though Sirius didn't know that he was planning to do this last part. "Being more serious than Sirius, I'll be taking my new position more seriously."

More groans, one of them sounding like it belonged to a certain Metamorphmagus.

"Looking at recent history, I've noticed that there are some...disreputable people connected to the Black family in one way or another. That's something I mean to address here and now."

Lucius Malfoy wasn't the only one that got a bad feeling at those words, but he was the most worried. If that half-blood mongrel was about to do what it looked like he was about to do...

Still on the stage next to Harry, Fudge was having a panic attack. He'd never been good at dealing with unexpected things happening and wanted desperately for all these new events and problems to go away.

He was just about to start blustering when Sirius grabbed him by the shoulders and led him away, just as Harry had said he'd need to. Sirius didn't really know what Harry was up to since his godson had gone off script, but he was enjoying the chaos nonetheless.

"First, Bellatrix Lestrange." Harry ignored the gasps and mutters the name produced. "She's a disgrace and the family she married into is a disgrace, so as per the contract signed between the Black and Lestrange families I hereby dissolve the marriage between Bellatrix Black and Rodolphus Lestrange and cast her out of the family."

The crowd was now dead silent and simply observed avidly. The wizard raised in the crowd knew that this kind of thing was usually done privately so as to preserve the family's dignity. This public airing of dirty laundry was practically unheard of.

"And finally Narcissa." Harry said coldly, staring at the white faced witch. "I don't know you and won't make any decisions just yet, but your husband and son are another matter. Draco has been nothing but an annoying, petulant child for the entire time I've known him and is unworthy of being called my family. He is no longer a Black."

Narcissa brokenly whispered 'no' while her husband kept a white-knuckled grip on his cane at seeing all his ambitions go down the drain. Draco himself was flushed a lobster red in anger.

"As for your husband, he's just as much a disgrace as Bellatrix, if a more slippery disgrace. As per the contract signed between the Black and Malfoy families, I hereby dissolve the marriage between Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black."

"On what grounds?" Lucius demanded, struggling hard to keep his rage in check. The stupid boy was ruining decades of work! He could still have another child with Narcissa and put things back on track, but not if their marriage was dissolved.

"Being a Death Eater." Harry replied flatly.

"I was under the Imperious!" Lucius retorted angrily.

"I don't believe you, but we can settle it with an honor duel if you want."

The more knowledgeable people in the crowd gasped. An honor duel over a matter like this was to the death. It was an archaic means of solving disputes that had fallen out of favor centuries ago, but it was still legal since nobody had bothered to overhaul the laws.

Lucius knew it was a trap. It was blindingly obvious. However, he was far too enraged and desperate to give the matter much thought. All his ambitions now dangled by a thread and would be washed down the drain if he refused to accept the duel. Killing Potter also appealed a great deal and made his decision for him.

"I accept."

Dumbledore on the other hand was horrified at this turn of events. Harry would either die duelling Malfoy or commit what was essentially premeditated murder. He wasn't even sure which was worse.

"Harry, you can't-" He tried to say, but was once again cut off, this time even more harshly.

"Shut the fuck up already, Dumbledore!" Harry yelled at the ancient wizard, well and truly fed up by his attempts to take control of the situation. "This has nothing to do with you, so kindly keep your crooked beak out of it!" The old meddler would definitely showing up again soon because of that one, but for now he should be too stunned to say anymore.

Dumbledore stared at Harry as if he'd never seen him before. He thought that he'd understood the young wizard. He thought that Harry just didn't respond well to authority figures. This sudden hostility had a personal feel to it and left him floundering. How had he missed this?

Some distance away Fudge had gotten some of his wits back and gone running to the first person he could think of to stop this disaster from happening.

"Amelia, you have to stop this from happening!" He cried, desperately wringing his hands.

"The DMLE doesn't have the authority to interfere in internal family matters." Amelia said dispassionately. She would have liked for the DMLE to have that authority, as it would have helped put quite a few people in prison, but in this case she was content to sit back and watch. Death Eaters had a wonderful habit of dying around Potter and having a front row seat to Malfoy's execution would be like an early birthday present.

Sirius meanwhile had jogged back up to his godson and started hissing into his ear. "Harry, what the hell are you doing?"

"Lucius was the one who sent the other assassin." Harry explained flatly. "I'm going to kill him."

Sirius spluttered briefly at the short explanation. "How'd you know that?!"

"I'll tell you later."

XXXXX

The shock of seeing Dumbledore get yelled at by the Boy-Who-Lived had not come even close to dissipating in the minds of the spectators, so they just shuffled sheep-like out of the way while a few aurors marked off a large duelling arena and put up a ward to safeguard the audience.

Harry stood on one side, shaking out his limbs to prepare. Malfoy had been one of Voldemort's top minions, so he was presumably better with a wand than most. Care would have to be taken. He had a plan for how he wanted this to play out, but was willing to abandon it if it was too risky.

On the other side, Lucius was similarly preparing himself and assessing his opponent. Potter looked far too old for his years, and the muggle shirt and pants he was wearing exposed a strong physique, not that muscle mattered in a wizard's duel. He was confident that he would win. Potter was still just a boy and Lucius had been putting people in the ground before he'd even been born

"I'm going to enjoy this, Potter." Lucius drawled, drawing his wand and getting into a proper duelling stance.

"Oh, I doubt that." Harry smirked back, his own stance much looser.

"Duelists, ready!" Amelia Bones, who had somehow gotten roped into officiating, began. "Begin!"

Harry immediately dodged to the side to avoid the Gouging Hex and returned fire with an _Expelliarmus._

Malfoy blocked it with a shield and then grunted when a Bone-Breaker followed right after and nearly shattered it. He remembered the need to dodge after that .

It quickly became obvious to the audience that Harry was simply the better fighter. He was quicker on his feet, his shields easily blocked what he couldn't dodge and his spells came faster and stronger.

Harry could have ended it already. He had long since come upon the idea of depriving his enemy of solid footing as a means of crippling their combat ability, just like he'd done to Fleur in the maze. He could have done the same here, but didn't because he wanted to make a spectacle of this.

Lucius had sweat beading on his forehead as he struggled to keep up with the much younger wizard. Too late had he realized that he had been overconfident. He hadn't used any kind of serious magic since Voldemort's downfall, much less been in a fight. His body wasn't as fast as it used to be and neither was his mind. Spells came slower and with less certainty than they once had. Some spells eluded him altogether, forgotten by disuse.

The crowd could see it too and had quickly started cheering for Harry, getting swept up in the excitement of the whole thing and forgetting that it was a fight to the death.

All except Narcissa and Draco, who watched with terrified eyes as their husband/father steadily lost ground.

And then in a shocking reversal, Harry seemed to miss a step and walked right into a Disarming Hex, causing his wand to go flying towards the Malfoy patriarch.

"It seems you've bitten off more than you can chew, Potter." Lucius sneered, covering up his own surprise. He'd almost thought that he was a goner for a second there.

"Oh no, you have my wand. Whatever shall I do?" Harry said sarcastically, surprising most of the watchers.

Then he thrust out his hand and sent out a powerful Disarming Hex of his own.

Lucius was too shocked to even think of responding and had both his own wand and Potter's go flying out of his hands.

"Did you really think you had a chance to win, Malfoy?" Harry sneered back. "You, who can't even use magic without this stupid _stick_."

His last word was punctuated by the snapping of Malfoy's wand. That was a horrible insult, tantamount to telling someone they weren't worthy of their magic, but everyone was far too shocked by the feat of wandless casting to really notice.

Lucius himself was so pale that he was nearly translucent and in no fit state to reply. The only thing he could think of was the memory of an angry Dark Lord disciplining Death Eaters who had failed him, sometimes using wandless magic to send them flying into walls.

"How much did it cost you to send that assassin after me in the second task, Malfoy? Was it worth your life?" Harry demanded, his eyes taking on a very slight glow as he prepared for the finishing move.

"I-I didn't." Lucius stammered, trying to back away and falling flat on his arse.

"Yes you did!" Harry snapped, taking a menacing step forward. Then he reached out with his fingers in a claw shape, as if grabbing hold of something and the Malfoy patriarch floated into the air as if clenched in a giant fist.

Normally, this would be impossible to do as the innate magic of the victim would fight off the grip, but these wand dependent wizards had a critical psychological weakness. They truly believed that they couldn't use magic without a wand and belief became reality. Take away their wand and their confidence broke, their magic weakened and they left themselves open for attacks that would have otherwise failed outright.

"You didn't leave enough evidence behind for any fingers to be pointed at you of course, but you _did_ do it. Had it all plotted out, didn't you? Kill me and Sirius so that Draco inherits the Black family and the Malfoys finally get that much vaunted noble title you're so desperate to have?"

Done with his little rant, Harry dropped the defeated wizard to the ground, already feeling the onset of a headache from forcing his will on the world like that.

Lucius didn't even try to deny it this time, too frightened of the young wizard who had turned out to be so much more powerful than expected. He didn't even get back on his feet and just held out a hand as if to ward off any further attack.

"I yield! Please, I yield." He tried, a note of desperation entering his tone.

"It's a duel to the death, remember?" Harry said uncompromisingly with eyes now glowing a bright green, hands held in front of him as if he was holding a ball, a bright yellow glow already manifesting between them. It quickly grew in size until it was as large as a basketball, a blazing yellow basketball with an angry red core. "You should be happy, Lucius. You get to help me try out my _Forbidden Sun!_ "

Lucius had just enough time to scream before the spell hit him and exploded violently.

When people were able to blink the spots out of their eyes and look back at the impact site, all they could see was a badly burned corpse slowly sinking into a pool of lava. More than one spectator went as pale as a sheet at the raw power of the spell that had been cast _wandlessly_.

Harry took a deep breath as he felt the excess Light leave him, taking his fury with it. The Dark Souls II inspired spell had perhaps been a bit much, but he _had_ wanted to make a flashy entrance into adulthood and there was nothing quite as flashy as the Forbidden Sun. Too volatile and complex to ever be combat worthy without someone protecting him while he formed it, but flashy as fuck.

The moment of terrified silence was broken by the wordless rage of Draco Malfoy as he rushed towards his father's killer, intent on revenge.

" _Bombarda_." He yelled furiously, nearly blinded by the tears streaming from his eyes.

Harry smacked the spell away, his hand protected by a localized shielding spell. That particular blasting curse was fortunately a fairly low power variety and Draco's mental state was so messed up that it was barely holding together, so the danger was minimal.

Harry was still pretty annoyed by the attempt though, so he mimed a pull that sent Draco's wand flying into his hand. Draco's aura was so much weaker than his own and his focus so disrupted that there was no resistance to his basic summoning. Then he snapped it just like he'd done to the elder Malfoy's.

As a finishing touch, he sent thrust out his arm and sent the Slytherin flying through the air with a mid-level Banishing Charm.

With his arm still outstretched, her turned towards the paralyzed audience, seeking a particular person. The witches and wizards flinched, cowered and screamed as if it was a loaded shotgun.

Finally his pointing finger settled on the nearly catatonic and newly widowed Narcissa. "Keep that little shit in line."

The woman automatically nodded, not even thinking about it.

Harry took another deep breath and started walking towards the edge of the ward line, making a two-fingered beckoning gesture that had Luna happily skipping over to him and tucking herself into his side so that he could put his arm around her shoulders. The elves had already moved all of their stuff back to the manor, so there was no need to stick around Hogwarts anymore.

To the people watching, the gentleness of the image was incredibly jarring in light of the earlier execution, but Harry and Luna paid no attention to that, though Harry did wonder how many home visits aside from Dumbledore he could expect from people in the next few days.

After a few stunned moments, Sirius got his wits about him and trotted after his godson, his mind burning with questions. Penny followed only a moment later.

That was the trigger that snapped Fleur out of her stupor and she remembered that she was supposed to be going with Harry too, though there was now a distinct note of caution in her movement.

Even more worried, Fleur's parents followed after their firstborn daughter, Sebastien carrying a terrified Gabrielle.

XXXXX

 **The chapter wasn't actually supposed to end here, but the word count ballooned on me again.**

 **I know that some of you really want to know what's going on with Voldemort, but all I can say is that he gets a mention in the next chapter. Probably.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Much kudos to my beta, Joe Lawyer.**

XXXXX

The Portkey trip to Potter Manor was a tense, silent and uncomfortable affair.

The Delacours had been invited to visit the place where their daughter would be spending her summer, but would now have made polite excuses and gone back to France if the circumstances were different. Only Fleur's unspoken decision to go with the powerful young wizard in spite of what he'd just done prevented them from leaving.

Fleur, though also stunned by the violent display, was less shocked. She had already seen him leave those three Death Eaters to die in the lake and had been aware that Harry had a vindictive streak. His killing of Malfoy had scared her, but not enough to drive her away. She would talk to him first and decide on the future afterwards.

But not today. Today, her sister needed her, so she retired to a room with her family and did her best to calm them down.

Harry and Luna went for the master bedroom, Sirius and Penny following behind them.

Not a word was said as Harry took off his new basilisk hide boots, sat crosslegged on the bed and closed his eyes. Luna meanwhile hopped into the sex swing that Tonks had bought for Harry's birthday almost a year ago now and used is as a...well, as a swing.

"What the hell was that, Harry?" Sirius finally asked, inwardly impressed by his own calmness.

"That was me killing an enemy." Harry replied, already in a meditative state to regain his emotional equilibrium. It had taken a great deal of restraint on his part to not kill Draco along with his father after being attacked. No matter how much he practiced it, drawing on the Sun's power always strained his self-control.

"You told me that you'd only make a few shocking statements, not that you would kill someone!" Sirius retorted hotly.

"I didn't tell you because you would have gotten in the way." Harry countered.

The brutally honest words sent Sirius into a hurt silence. Yes, he would have objected to this plan and may have tried to do it in Harry's stead if he learned of it, but being told so bluntly still hurt.

"You said that he was the one who sent the other assassin after you." Penny interjected. "Was that true?"

"It was." Harry nodded. "I think he was also the one to manipulate those idiots at the World Cup to attack us. In hindsight, that was too specifically focused on us to be random Death Eater hostility."

"How do you know?" Sirius demanded, rejoining the conversation. "You said you'd tell me later, well it's later."

"Adrastia told me."

"You did this based on her word?!"

"Yes."

"She could have been lying, trying to manipulate you!" Sirius was getting aggravated by his godson's calmness.

"Oh, she's definitely trying to manipulate me, but not by lying. She didn't have any solid proof, but the circumstantial evidence and reasoning made perfect sense. I expect she'll be turning up sometime in the next few days again."

"Harry, you killed a man based on the word of a woman who's idea of fun it is to find a rich man, turn him into a doormat and then get rid of him when she gets bored. Why are you not seeing the problem here?" Sirius asked slowly.

"I don't care what she does with people I don't know, as long as she keeps her games away from me and mine." Harry replied uncaringly. "The only problem I saw was that Lucius Malfoy was trying to kill me and you, and he'd already cost Luna her father. He needed to die."

Luna's swinging faltered a bit at the mention of her father, but she determinedly resumed it. She had a new family now and her daddy was back with mummy, she wasn't going to be sad.

"I'm worried about you, Harry. The other times you killed, it was self-defense, this time you deliberately set out to kill a man." Sirius said after a moment.

Penny nodded in agreement. Harry had scared her with what he'd done and it was the first time that she began to wonder about who exactly she was working for.

"And what else was I supposed to do? Let him keep trying?" Harry demanded. "There was no proof and with Fudge in his pocket, Malfoy might have wiggled out of it even if there was. I'm all ears if you have an alternative."

Neither Sirius nor Penny had one.

"I killed someone that was, at minimum, a murderer to make sure he wouldn't be trying to send any more assassins our way and I did it in such a way that anyone else will think twice before trying it again. It's not perfect and it will undoubtedly have at least some of the sheep thinking that I'm a rising Dark Lord or something equally stupid, but it was the best I could do in the situation. I'm sorry that I couldn't tell either of you what I was going to do, but I'm not sorry that I did it."

The older wizard sighed in defeat, conceding that Harry was right. His godson had probably chewed over the situation exhaustively before doing it, as usual and then made the most practical decision, also as usual. It made arguing with him annoyingly hard, just like it had been with Lily. It wasn't even that he disagreed with Harry on the need to do something. He was just...worried.

Penny too had some of her worries settled by his words. The sudden brutality of it had still shocked her, but she had already experienced first hand what Lucius Malfoy could be like.

"It's just...your parents wouldn't have wanted this for you, Harry." Sirius muttered, slumping in defeat.

"I'm sure my parents wouldn't have wanted to die either, bu we know how that ended." That was a low blow and Harry knew it, but he didn't want to deal with Sirius worrying about morality. The mention of his friends deaths and of their killer, Voldemort, whom Malfoy had followed, would remind his godfather of who exactly he had killed this day.

XXXXX

Harry spent the next several hours in his room, not exactly _hiding_ , but definitely making sure that he didn't encounter any of his guests, especially the Delacour parents.

He wasn't afraid of them or what they thought of him, but he didn't want to deal with irrational, half-panicked parents either. He had seen Gabrielle after his duel with Malfoy and surmised that they must not have known what exactly an honor duel entailed, or else they would have taken her away. France was a more modern sort of magical country than the UK after all. Unless it was normal to allow veela children to watch battles to the death, but he found that unlikely.

He'd have the inevitable talk with them tomorrow, after they had calmed down and Fleur had a chance to talk to them. He knew that his veela friend would be less shocked by the senior Malfoy's death and give them a little perspective, even if she didn't know the whole story.

His alone time was interrupted by the pop of a house elf.

"Master Harry sir, missy Tonks is here." Teeny announced. "She bes looking mad."

Huh, he hadn't seen _that_ coming. "Thank you, Teeny."

The happy little house elf popped away again and left Harry to his thoughts, for what little time he had until his ex-girlfriend barged in. Dora still had a standing invitation to the manor, but he honestly hadn't expected her to come haring after him for that duel as soon as her shift was over.

It wasn't more than a few seconds before he heard her stomping up the hallway and throwing open the door.

"What the hell, Harry?" She demanded. She was dressed in a black tank top(with no bra), ripped jeans, a pair of calf high black boots with a light enchantment on them and her vividly orange-purple hair was spiked around her head like an 80s rock star.

Harry smiled at her. "Hello, Dora. You're looking extra beautiful today."

"Don't try to flatter your way out of this!" She said sternly, ignoring that she was, in fact, flattered.

"Your boobs seem to like it, they perked right up." He pointed out.

Tonks grabbed at her boobs possesively and looked at them sternly. "Don't listen to him, girls!"

"It's too late, Dora. If you didn't want your boobs to rebel against you and start listening to me, then you should have paid more attention to those puppies." Harry said faux sinisterly.

Tonks glared at him for a few moments, but the increasing pinkness of her hair gave away her amusement

Finally she huffed and relaxed her posture. "Alright, enough about my boobs. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I didn't want my life to be constantly under threat by Malfoy." Harry frowned, getting serious.

"And your first thought was killing him in front of hundreds of witnesses?" She asked incredulously.

"No, I just figured it would have the most impact." He admitted.

Tonks snorted. It had impact alright. "And it doesn't bother you at all that you essentially planned out a murder?"

"It was Malfoy. The man was a Death Eater and I'm not going to agonize over it." Harry shrugged.

Tonks nodded with a small sigh. She was familiar with Harry's pragmatic outlook. He hadn't been overly affected by any of his other kills either. At first she'd thought he was just bottling it up, but he was either _really_ good at bottling it up, or he actually didn't have the expected moral dilemmas about killing in self-defense.

Though this Malfoy situation was only self-defense in the loosest possible interpretation of the term.

"This is going to set off a huge shitstorm, you know that right?" She asked.

"It's a good thing we'll be in the Caribbean then, isn't it?" Harry smirked.

"About that….is Fleur coming too?" Tonks had seen the veela and her family going after Harry so it seemed likely.

"She is."

"Finally got together with her, did you?" She asked sardonically, ignoring the small flare of familiar jealousy. Being replaced sucked, but she had no right to complain.

"Nah, we're just friends." Harry said with a small shrug.

"So you're not sleeping with her?" Tonks asked with some incredulity.

"Friends with benefits." He corrected.

"Is she not relationship material?" The Metamorphmagus asked, unable to help her curiousity.

"It's not that, I just don't want to rush into anything." He shrugged, getting uncomfortable with the way that the conversation was going. Any more and they'd start talking about _feelings_.

"And yet you've already met her parents." She countered, amused. "You haven't even met my parents."

"I'd have prefered not to meet _her_ parents either, but I could hardly tell them to bugger off." Harry grumbled. "I even have them staying over right now because Fleur is spending the summer with me."

"Oh." Tonks blinked. She hadn't run into anyone on the way up to his room. "So I could have barged in on you talking or shagging Fleur or something?"

"Theoretically." He shrugged, smiling.

"That would've been awkward."

"Quite."

A few seconds of silence followed before Tonks spoke again.

"So, Fleur's joining us on Black Island…."

"Yep."

"Are you sure you still want me there?" She asked, going for a joking tone. "I imagine that an ex-girlfriend would make things complicated."

"I don't see why, it's not like I'm dating any of them." Harry shrugged.

Tonks wasn't sure if he was really that naïve or just deliberately ignoring the explosive potential. "If you say so."

"So, did you want to stay for dinner?" He asked after a few slightly uncomfortable seconds. "It would be just the two of us since I'm kind of avoiding everyone to give them time to cool off. Or we could go out if you'd like."

"Probably not a good idea." Tonks said, though it was tempting. Harry might have friends with benefits, but she was still single and bored and horny. Going on a pseudo-date with him could end up leading to all sorts of complications that neither of them needed in their lives right now. Being friends with an ex was hard enough without sex involved. She knew that from prior experience.

"I guess you're right." Harry conceded, but didn't really mean it. The easy conversation reminded him so much of the time before things had started going bad between them that he'd been feeling almost optimistic again.

 _What was that quote again? 'Hope is the first step on the road to disappointment.' Sounds about right._

The whole situation was stupid, really. They had broken up over four months ago now, and he'd stopped moping about it a few weeks into that time. He was usually better about letting the past go than this. Of course, he was usually also not still feeling guilty for performing Soul Magic on an unknowing person. On an unknowing person that he really liked at any rate.

"Of course I'm right." Tonks puffed up her chest, wanting to put an end to the slight gloom that had descended just now.

"Careful there, Dora. I hear large breasts can cause back problems." Harry said dryly, gesturing at her now DD-cup chest.

"Shows what you know." She replied haugtily. "Metamorphmagi don't get back problems."

"Well in that case inflate away, Bubbles."

"What did you just call me?!" Tonks demanded, doing her best to keep an angry expression on her face.

"Bubbles the inflatable doll?" He said back innocently. "Or would you prefer Dora the Sexplorer?

Coming from anyone else, she would have been extremely offended by that, but she was familiar with Harry's acerbic sense of humor and knew that he didn't mean anything by it. That he could crack jokes about her abilities without walking on eggshells or being an arse had always been something she'd liked. That didn't mean that he was going to get away with it though.

"Why you little…..!" She growled and pounced, her body growing taller and bulkier as she did so.

"This is new." Harry grunted in effort as the Metamorphmagus continued changing until she was 6'1'' and had noticeable biceps. He was having to exert quite a bit of effort to keep her at bay.

"I've been practicing." Tonks grunted back, continuing to shunt non-critical mass, such as body fat and reproductive organs, into muscle. Her breasts flattened and became distinctly male looking pectorals, which was as weird as ever, but not as weird as suddenly being genderless. It was worth it though, because it allowed her to slap more muscle onto her bones.

"This is _so_ unfair." Harry complained with a strained voice half a minute of roughhousing later. The Metamorphmagus now looked like a serious body builder and had the strength to match. He was very strong for his size and build, but his lightly muscled form couldn't stand up to that even with the runic enhancement.

"Deal with it." She grinned fiercely. Her head might be starting to pound from the effort of sustaining a transformation so far outside of her usual body mass, but the sweet taste of victory made it all worth it.

And then, with all the dramatic effect of an avalanche, her jeans burst open at the seams, exposing pretty much everything. They hadn't been fully skintight jeans, but they had definitely been meant for female legs and not the tree trunks she'd turned them into. It was pure luck that her boots had been bought in Diagon Alley and had a resizing enchantment on them, a must have for a Metamorphmagus really.

Tonks yelped loudly and jumped away, covering her exposed groin with her hands. Her morphed muscles quickly deflated and left her standing there in a badly stretched tank top and ruined pants.

Meanwhile, Harry had collapsed into helpless hysterics and was cackling madly, tears streaming from his eyes from the force of his laughter.

"It's not funny!" Tonks wailed, her entire body turning as red as her hair, which was now a color that would make a lobster look pink.

Harry did not reply verbally, unless crawling across the floor and nearly blacking out from oxygen deprivation counted.

XXXXX

 _The next day._

Harry woke up with the rising of the Sun as usual, which was pretty early these days since it was summer. Luna was still asleep, but was fortunately not stuck to him like a limpet as she sometimes was, so it wasn't hard to extricate himself.

He smiled as he went about the usual morning rituals, remembering yesterday. Not so much killing Malfoy as the dramatic visit of his ex-girlfriend. Dora had left shortly after her spectacular wardrobe malfunction, but the fun atmosphere had lingered for hours. He'd missed screwing around with her like that.

Not even knowing that he'd be facing questions from Fleur's parents soon put a dent in his mood. It wasn't like they could do anything anyway. They were probably awake already actually. Veela had the same kind of internal alarm clock that he did.

With that in mind, he made his way down to the sitting room and settled in to a squashy armchair to wait. They'd show up eventually.

It was no more than twenty minutes later when he felt the approach of a familiar Light.

"'Arry? What are you doing in 'ere?" Fleur asked as she entered the room and saw him sitting all by himself with his eyes closed.

"I was waiting for you." He answered honestly.

"Strange, I could swear you were avoiding me." She said pointedly.

"I was avoiding your parents, and that was just to give them a chance to get over their initial freak out." Harry corrected.

Fleur had to admit that 'freak out' was a valid description for her parents yesterday. Her father more so than her mother, but both had been in quite a state. It had taken her hours to calm them down. It was incredibly rude to have guests over at one's home and then ignore them, but it was a fact that with Gabrielle so frightened and her parents on edge that conversation would have been tense to say the least.

She took a seat on the arm of Harry's chosen seat as she asked her next question. "Did you really 'ave to do that in front of Gabi?"

"I would have prefered not to." Harry admitted. "But I never would have gotten a chance quite like that again."

"And 'e really was ze one 'oo sent ze assassin in ze lake?" Fleur didn't think he'd been lying, but wanted to make sure anyway.

"Mhm."

"'Ow did you find out?"

"I have my ways." Harry answered with a shrug. He didn't want Fleur and Adrastia meeting, it seemed like a bad idea for some reason. Keeping them apart when the manipulative witch inevitably showed up would be a must.

Fleur pursed her lips. Harry was being secretive again.

She decided it was better not to ask, as usual. "You didn't give me a tour of your manor yesterday."

"You know, I never understood the point of giving someone a tour around a house." He commented. "It's just a house, not a freaking museum. It has bedrooms, bathrooms and a few other types of rooms and that's it."

"Eet eez to make guest comfortable in your home and not leave zem stumbling about." Fleur told him, a wry smile pulling at her lips. "Like we would 'ave done if not for Penny and Sirius."

"I suppose there is that." Harry conceded.

The rest of the Delacour family showed up at that point, as signaled by their footsteps and a frightened gasp from Gabrielle.

"Good morning." Harry greeted, ignoring the way that Fleur's little sister was hiding behind her father's legs.

"Good morning." The two elder Delacours returned, visibly tense in his presence.

"Fleur, I think your parents want to talk to me alone. Could you take your sister out of here? Call for Teeny if you need anything." Harry muttered so that only she could hear.

Fleur nodded and quickly led Gabrielle away.

"Well, this is awkward." Harry said blandly once they were alone. "Please have a seat, I'm sure you have questions for me."

They moved to a couch and sat on the very edge of it, as if ready to bolt at a moment's notice. But they were sitting down, so that was something.

"Alright, I guess I'll start." He muttered. "I'm sorry that you had to see that yesterday, but I had to get rid of that man before he could try to kill me again."

"Could you not have had him arrested?" Sebastien asked.

Harry snorted at the absurd notion. "I'm sure you have some idea of how corrupt the British Ministry of Magic is. He would have weaseled out of it even if I had any tangible proof, for no other reason than because he was a rich pureblood."

"And killing him like that was the only alternative?" Apolline asked, not quite censuringly.

"Maybe not." Harry admitted. "Maybe I could have found some rock solid evidence and manipulated the current Minister to convict him, or maybe I could have killed him in a more clandestine fashion, but he was too dangerous to be kept alive for any longer than necessary. I wanted him gone as soon as possible and doing it publically like that will warn off anyone that might have had similar ideas."

"Gabrielle is only eight, she shouldn't have had to see that." Sebastien said, his tone growing heated.

"There were plenty of kids there that shouldn't have seen it." Harry responded blandly.

"Yes, and I'm sure you can imagine why we aren't comfortable with Fleur staying with you anymore." Apolline took over.

"Nobody is forcing her to." Harry shrugged, choosing not to mention their little bet.

"You have been sleeping with her." It wasn't a question.

"For about a month now, yes."

"How is it that you remain unaffected by her Allure?" Sebastien asked suspiciously.

"Bothers you, does it?" Harry asked back with a humorless grin. "I'm sure it must have made you feel happy to know that your daughter would be able to control whichever man she chose the same way that your wife controls you."

"I do not control my husband." Apolline said stiffly.

"Really?" Harry asked skeptically. "I know there's a lot of romantic tripe going around about veela, but the truth is that you are essentially watered down succubi. I'm sure that you're happy together, but it doesn't change the fact that you are the one with more power in the relationship, Apolline." Even a veela's enthusiasm for giving blowjobs would be enough for some men, never mind all the magical bits.

He could see that neither of them were especially pleased by his words, but he didn't much care. He'd spoken the truth and wasn't going to sugarcoat things in an effort to get their approval.

"Excuse us for a minute, I need to have a word with my wife." Sebastien said.

"By all means." Harry said and got up. "Come find me if you have anything more to say."

XXXXX

"I don't like him." Sebastien said as soon as they were alone.

"I know, I wasn't too fond of his attitude either." Apolline agreed.

Harry had been right. It _was_ a comfort to know that your daughter would have control of the relationship. Sebastien could not fathom ever doing anything to hurt his wife and they had both expected that Fleur would eventually have a man just as devoted to her.

Except he apparently wasn't. Instead, he was disrespectful to them and immune to both the long and short term effects of a veela's magic. It took all their assurances of their daughter's safety in a relationship and threw them out the window. And that was without even factoring in the fact that he had planned out how to kill a man and then gone through with it.

"Why does our daughter seem determined to make my hair turn white before I turn fifty?" Sebastien asked plaintively. "First she says that she wants to go into a dangerous profession like curse-breaking and now she chases after a killer that she can't control."

He knew that his wife was the one who wore the pants in the family, but Sebastien was alright with that. Apolline was a wonderful woman and he loved her immensely. She had explained about the Joining and he knew that he had technically been influenced into feeling that way, but it didn't matter. They were happy together and that was that. It bothered him that Fleur wouldn't have that assurance. It bothered him that _he_ wouldn't have that assurance for her.

Apolline pursed her lips and sighed. The worst part was that she could understand at least some of Fleur's fascination with Harry Potter. His magic was incredible, it would have drawn any veela to him. It wouldn't necessarily have kept them around, but they certainly would have wanted to bed him at least once. It was just poor luck that their eldest daughter liked a bit of danger in her life.

"She told me that he doesn't want a relationship, so she may get tired of him eventually." She said for her husband's benefit, but didn't believe it. In the few conversations that they'd had on the topic so far, Fleur had seemed pretty determined to stay with Harry.

She could even understand why. Apolline may not be happy about what her daughter was getting herself mixed up in, but she understood why. The powerful magic, the good looks and the great sex according to her descriptions would appeal to a veela's base nature, while the dangerous edge and whatever else she knew of him appealed to Fleur's sense of adventure.

"I hope so." Sebastien said.

Apolline gave her husband a weak smile. She had a feeling those hopes were in vain.

XXXXX

A few hours later the rest of the house had woken up and they were sitting down to eat breakfast together.

Apolline and Sebastien had taken their still frightened younger daughter back to France, though not without first extracting a promise from their eldest that she come visit them soon.

Their conversation was interrupted when an owl flew in through the open window and headed straight for Penny, clutching the latest edition of the _Daily Prophet_.

Harry wasted no time in summoning the newspaper to himself, just barely snatching it from the grasping hands of his godfather.

"Hey, don't hog the paper!" Sirius complained.

"You snooze, you lose." Harry retorted reasonably, taking a look at the front page.

It featured a full page moving picture of himself casting the Forbidden Sun, though it didn't show the effects on the now late Malfoy patriarch. Probably too graphic. Above the picture was a massive headline boldly proclaiming ' ** _Explosive End to the Tri-Wizard Tournament!_** ' .

"Someone thinks they're being funny." Harry snorted as everyone crowded around him to see.

"The _Prophet_ always thought it was clever with its puns, the plebs." Sirius also snorted.

"It's true though, it really was an explosive end." Luna pointed out.

"Turn ze page already." Fleur said impatiently, backed up by Penny.

"Alright, alright, keep your panties on." Harry said and turned the page.

The first few paragraphs were just a short recap of the tournament and of his victory and it was obvious even in text that the author of the article was rushing through it in an effort to get to the good part.

 _In a stunning turn of events, Harry Potter announced his emancipation and thus ascension to the title of Lord Potter, followed immediately by a withdrawal from Hogwarts for both himself and his young friend Luna Lovegood._

"But we're the same age now." Luna pouted.

"They never said we weren't, they just conveniently left my age out of it." Harry said wryly.

 _An even bigger shock came when the current Lord Black, Sirius Orion Black, who is also Harry Potter's godfather, announced his abdication and left the Black family to his godson, who is eligible to inherit it from his grandmother Dorea Potter neé Black._

 _Now the Lord of two powerful families, the Boy-Who-Lived immediately began to use his new station to 'clean house' as it were. His first act was to dissolve the marriage of Bellatrix Black to Rodolphus Lestrange and banish her from the Black family, leaving the imprisoned Death Eater nameless and disgraced._

 _His second act was to banish fellow Hogwarts student, Draco Malfoy, from the Black family._

 _Lastly, he dissolved the marriage between Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy on account of him being a Death Eater. Malfoy disputed this accusation, reiterating that he had been forced to serve He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named through the use of the Imperius, but the new Lord Potter dismissed his claims and offered to face him in an honor duel to decide who had the right of it._

 _Honor duels have long since fallen out of favor, but they remain a valid – if archaic – means of settling serious disputes between the Lords of the Wizengamot. It should be noted that Lord Potter was under no obligation to offer this option as the Malfoy family is not part of the Wizengamot and could not have done anything about the decision._

"I get the feeling that the _Daily Prophet_ is trying very hard to make it clear that they're not accusing me of anything." Harry mused, stopping for a moment.

"And all you had to do to get a little courtesy from them is publically kill someone." Penny said sarcastically. Unlike Harry, who had flatly ignored what the _Prophet_ was doing throughout the year, she had read every issue and been severely annoyed by all the speculation into his love life.

 _As soon as the duel began, it was clear that Lord Potter had the advantage and was easily the greater wizard._

 _Because of this, the surprise when Malfoy disarmed him was even greater. It was shortlived however, as Lord Potter immediately demonstrated an immense proficiency in wandless magic, the like of which our world surely has not seen since the time of Merlin himself._

"Laying it on a bit thick, aren't they?" Sirius muttered.

"They're reporters, what do you expect?" Harry snorted.

 _Malfoy was caught off guard as completely as the spectators and was swiftly defeated. Lord Potter then proceeded to accuse his opponent of attempting to assassinate him so that his son could have inherited the Black family._

 _When Malfoy did not deny the accusation, Lord Potter finished the duel with an immensely powerful spell he called 'the Forbidden Sun', which is likely of his own creation and was cast wandlessly. Experts theorise that Lord Potter must have an astonishingly massive magical core to allow for the use of such powerful spells with no wand._

Harry sneered at the newspaper. Trust the media to spread ignorance and misinformation. Magical core indeed!

The article went on for only a little while longer, notably absent in any kind of wild speculation about his life that had characterised previous articles about him. It didn't even mention that Fleur had gone with him at the end of that debacle.

All in all, the article had a definite feel of 'please don't come burn our homes down, we're being good'. It was better than them proclaiming him as the next Dark Lord to be sure.

"I wonder how people will react to this?" Harry mused.

XXXXX

 _Arundel._

" _Damn_ , Harry went all out." Tiana whistled.

"How can you be okay with this?" Jade demanded heatedly. "We're partners with a murderer!"

"It was Malfoy." Bryanna said dismissively. "The bastard would've had us all killed or groveling before his precious pure blood if he could. Good riddance to that."

"And I doubt those accusations about assassination were just hot air." Tiana added.

Bryanna suddenly froze for a moment and then grinned widely. "I just realized that this means we don't have to wait until Harry is seventeen to open our store."

"Hey, you're right!"

Isabel and Jade looked at each other nervously, not understanding why their friends were able to so easily brush off something like this.

XXXXX

 _The Burrow._

Breakfast was loud a affair at the best of times in the Weasley household, but today was exceptional by any standard.

Ginny stayed quiet as the debate raged around her.

Percy was ranting about Harry being Dark, Ron was alternating between agreeing with him and cheering for Malfoy's death, the twins were whispering heatedly to themselves in a corner, their father was trying to calm things down and their mother was ranting about Harry's upbringing for some reason.

Ginny herself was just sort of glad that she wasn't Harry's friend anymore. The boy she had met on the Hogwarts Express just shy of three years ago couldn't have done this. This new Harry frightened her.

XXXXX

 _Spinner's End._

Severus had a sour look on his face as he read the newspaper.

The past school year had brought his hatred of Harry Potter soaring to new heights. The brat had been an intolerably entitled bastard the whole year and a bully to boot, even worse than his father really. And he hadn't been able to do anything about it.

He'd only seen the truth with Lucius' death. Harry Potter wasn't much like his father at all and what resemblence he'd once had to his mother had vanished as well.

Harry Potter was far too vicious to be compared to either of his parents.

Well, Severus supposed it didn't matter anymore. The little psychopath was leaving Hogwarts and taking his crazy friend with him. Maybe if he was lucky, Severus would get to see Voldemort and Potter kill each other somewhere down the line. That would be a treat, seeing the two people he hated most in the world tearing each other apart. The only thing that would make it better was if Black got mixed up in it too and ended up being collateral damage.

XXXXX

 _Ministry of Magic, Minister's office._

Fudge frantically read over the article and hoped it would calm things down a bit. He didn't need any more problems with Dolores imprisoned and Lucius dead. Who would he ask for advice now? Amelia was after the Minister's chair, he was sure of it! Why else would she keep pushing for more funding, more authority, more everything?

Maybe…maybe he could get Harry on board with him? They had worked together before and it had gone well. Yes, that was a good idea. He'd send an owl to the new Lord Potter. It was better than crawling back to Dumbledore.

XXXXX

 _Malfoy Manor._

Narcissa put down the newspaper and looked at her shaking hands. She'd thought they had stopped doing that yesterday.

Draco had stormed off in a rage after seeing the title and picture on the front page. Her son had tipped between a tearful depression and a frothing rage ever since Lucius had been killed. When they had arrived back home yesterday, he had set out to vent his fury on their house elf.

Narcissa had let him, being in no state to do anything for him herself. House elves existed to serve their masters anyway and if it could make her son feel better by serving as a punching bag for him then it was doing its duty.

That had been a mistake. Draco had beaten the creature to death in his rage and they couldn't afford a new one. She was no longer a Malfoy and couldn't access the vaults and Draco was underage. They had no ready funds and no source of income until he turned seventeen, which was two years away.

Lucius had never set up a trust vault for his son and even worse, had never believed in paying for anything up front. The deadline for paying next year's Hogwarts tuition was approaching and they had nothing to pay it with. The only ready gold they had was what had been lying around the manor, and that was not much at all. She wasn't even sure if she could afford to buy her son a new wand to replace the one that Potter had broken.

She could go to another family for help, but that was risky. Some families hated the Malfoys and others would use the situation to take advantage of them.

It was also moot. Nobody would help them after the statement Potter had made when killing Lucius. Only one thing truly mattered in the world and that was power. Gold, prestige, influence….. all these things were just expressions of it, but what use were they against the raw magical might that Potter had demonstrated yesterday? Her husband's, or ex-husband's she supposed, burned body was the answer to that.

Potter had shown that the Malfoys were his enemies and nobody would be want to be seen helping them now. Not anytime soon. Especially with how foolishly Draco had attacked him at the conclusion of the duel. Potter could easily make more demands for that assault, it being the actions of a grieving son notwithstanding. Nobody would care about Draco's emotional state in the face of Potter's power. Even the Ministry would sooner bend its laws to accommodate Potter than openly challenge him now. They had given way before Voldemort at first as well, before it became clear that he wouldn't stop. They had done the same for Dumbledore once as well, with only time having dulled the memory of the power he commanded.

She couldn't even sell anything to scare up some gold. She wasn't a Malfoy anymore and had no right to it. And of course, Draco was too young to do it. Even if she could have done that, it likely wouldn't be fast enough to pay for Draco's Hogwarts tuition. That wasn't even considering how much she would be ripped off because everyone would know that she was desperate.

And then there was the threat of being cast out of the Black family still hanging over her head. That would be a disaster. If that happened, she wouldn't even be eligible anymore to be Draco's legal guardian. She would be nameless, which was in some ways worse than being a mudblood. Mudbloods could at least crawl back to where they came from, but she would have nowhere to go. The fate that might befall a disgraced highborn woman didn't bear thinking about.

She had never appreciated the kind of strength Andromeda must have had to willingly walk away from her family. Well, she could appreciate it now.

Bellatrix had been cruel even as a child, Andromeda willful and headstrong and then there was her, Narcissa, the baby of the family. The one who had always been the ideal of a pureblood princess from the ancient house of Black. The one who always had everything handed to her because she was the favorite.

The one who had never known a day of hardship in her entire life. Not until a wizard with glowing green eyes and unbelievable power had killed Lucius in retaliation for the assassination attempts made on him.

She had known about Lucius' plans, not the details of course, but the broad strokes. She had supported it even. The thought of her family passing into the hands of a half-blood instead of her own perfect son had been insulting. She had never fathomed that it would lead to her world collapsing around her.

She had barely gotten any sleep last night, worry and grief keeping her awake.

The harsh truth was that she needed help.

She had briefly considered going to Andromeda, but dismissed the thought almost as soon as she had it. That bridge had been burned a long time ago. Her older sister was more likely to slam the door in her face than help her. And, if she was being honest with herself, Narcissa could admit that she didn't want to live on the fringes of magical society like Andromeda did with her mudblood husband.

What she really needed was to make sure that Potter wouldn't decide to hammer the last nail into her coffin in a fit of pique. She knew from Draco's letters that he wasn't the pure-hearted paragon of good that the stories had made him out to be before his return to their world. He had a mean streak, as if that wasn't obvious enough from the way he had killed Lucius.

She would write a letter to that mudblood steward of his, asking for a meeting.

Narcissa bit her lip as she was reminded of another potential problem. That was the same mudblood that had been Head Girl last year and who had given Draco a detention. The same mudblood that Lucius had mader sure would never be able to get any respectable work in Magical Britain.

It had seemed like such a small thing back then, just showing an uppity little mudblood how the world worked. It wasn't the first time that Lucius had done it and she had agreed with it. Couldn't have the rabble thinking that they could get away with things like that after all. It was bad enough that Dumbledore humored them by allowing them to become Head Boy or Head Girl.

But it hadn't been just any mudblood, had it? Potter had counted her as a friend, given her a prestigious position in his own family and spent the whole school year demonstrating his displeasure to Draco with a series of humiliating pranks. She hadn't even connected the two events until now.

She'd need to be polite, and stop thinking of her as a mudblood. The ice she was standing on was far too thin to allow for any slip ups during conversation.

XXXXX

 _Hogwarts._

Albus Dumbledore put down the paper and stroked his long beard in thought.

This entire situation had blindsided him utterly. Harry had always acted so very much like a Ravenclaw – if a bit more surly than most – that this sudden burst of Gryffindor boldness backed by Slytherin cunning and ruthlessness had come seemingly out of nowhere.

Most people would be surprised to hear that Dumbledore didn't handle sudden and unexpected events too well. Most people thought that he always had an answer ready no matter what happened, but that was just not true. He was, first and foremost, a scholar. Circumstances had forced him into strife and leadership, but that was not his prefered state. It was why the position as Hogwarts Headmaster was more valuable to him than his other two titles.

It was why Voldemort had given him so much trouble. The Dark Lord didn't play by the rules. When he got upset, he upended the board instead of thinking carefully about his next move.

Harry had also just upended the board. Albus didn't know how the boy had learned that Lucius was behind the assassination, but he had to agree that it was likely. The problem was that Harry hadn't tried to find a way to prove it. Oh no, Harry had instead contrived a situation where he could outright kill him and sod the proof. Albus had been so stunned that he hadn't been able to find a way to control the situation in time.

And the power that Harry had shown, he'd never imagined such a thing done wandlessly. No matter how he looked at the Forbidden Sun as Harry had called it, he couldn't think of a way to replicate it with a wand. The spell simply had too many components to remain stable. If Harry was capable of that, then there was really no telling what else he was capable of.

Albus was deathly afraid that he had missed the making of another Dark Lord. He had not seen the darkness in Gellert until it was too late. He had clung to hope with Tom and shut his eyes until it was too late. Had he been doing it again with Harry?

He had spent most of the night with his Pensieve, going over all of their past interactions, looking for clues that he might have missed.

Harry had been a quiet and withdrawn boy in his first year. His second had seen the advent of a bad temper, but still nothing to really be concerned about. His third saw him becoming sexually active as well as more secretive. And his fourth was when he began to completely reject authority.

Albus couldn't be sure, but given the rate of his growth, he guessed that Harry must have performed whatever ritual he had used to speed his maturity during his first summer break. He recalled how the boy had refused to stay at Hogwarts back then because he had 'things to do'.

All this retrospection still didn't give him any solid information however. Was Harry Potter walking down an evil path? He feared it was so, especially in light of the people Harry had killed so far, but he just _didn't know_.

He would visit Potter Manor a bit later in the day and talk to the recently emancipated lad. With Harry not coming back to Hogwarts in September a lot of old plans were useless. He needed more information.

XXXXX

 _Back at Potter Manor._

Harry had barely put the paper down when the distinct sound of the door knocker was heard.

"I wonder who that could be?" Penny said with a small frown, moving to answer.

"I could think of one or two people." Harry muttered. It could be either Dumbledore or…..

"Harry, it's-" Penny began once she came back, but was interrupted by a sensual female purr.

"My, my, my, when I asked you if the award ceremony was going to be more exciting than the third task, I certainly wasn't expecting the show you put on."

"Hello, Adrastia." Harry greeted with resignation. She was earlier than he'd expected.

"Harry." She replied, taking a grape from a nearby plate and sucking it sensually into her mouth. "Care to introduce me to the ones I haven't met yet?"

"I guess." He sighed at her theatrics. "Girls, this is Adrastia Zabini. Adrastia, meet Luna Lovegood and Fleur Delacour."

"Hi." Luna beamed, giving the beautiful older woman a wave.

" _Enchanté_." Fleur said with much less enthusiasm than Luna. Harry's attitude towards this woman was putting her on edge.

"Are you ready to talk about that thing I mentioned yesterday, or should I sit down and join you for breakfast?" Adrastia asked, smiling beatifically.

"Now is fine, come on." Harry got up, leaving his unfinished breakfast for later.

"'Oo eez zat woman?" Fleur asked once they were gone. She'd seen her talking to Harry yesterday too.

"Trouble." Sirius grumbled.

XXXXX

"So?" Harry prompted.

"So…." Adrastia drawled back with a smirk, sinking languidly into her seat.

"I'm not in the mood for games right now, so get to the point if you would."

"Very well." She pouted playfully. "You want to know why I advised you not to cast Narcissa out of the family."

"I have some guesses." He admitted.

"Do share."

"Blackmail?" He couldn't really think of anything that he could actually blackmail the woman _for_ , but it was the most likely option to his thinking.

"Certainly an option, but so very unimaginative."

"Enlighten me then."

"You made a good choice in employing Penny to be your steward, a smart choice." Adrastia said, seemingly off topic.

"Are you implying I should do the same with _Narcissa_?" Harry asked incredulously. "The woman whose husband I just killed? I'd have to watch out for betrayal at every turn!"

"She would be useful to you." Adrastia said, apparently ignoring his reasoning for why this was a bad idea. "Much as I enjoy these little détentes of ours, I cannot be here to give you advice all the time and your grandparents' portraits are a poor substitute for a real person. The Malfoys were the social elite before you destroyed them, making Narcissa an ideal choice as a social planner for you."

"I'm not a very social person." He grumbled.

"All the more reason why you need a social planner." She countered. "Like it or not, you've just become a big name in British magical politics. Very soon now you can expect to receive proposals and invitations to social events. Snub them at your own peril."

Even Harry could guess what would happen if he did that. People tended to get nervous around very powerful anti-social loners that refused to interact with the wider population. The Hogwarts student body had been the same, bunch of twats that couldn't grasp the idea that some people simply didn't enjoy being around most others.

"You still haven't addressed the the issue of me potentially getting stabbed in the back if I did that." He said sourly, conceding the point.

"We have ways of controlling difficult people, you and I." Adrastia said, her dark eyes gleaming with things that she usually kept carefully concealed.

"You can't be serious." Harry said flatly, leaning back into his own armchair.

"Deadly serious." She purred, getting up and gliding towards him.

"I am not going to use the Joining to turn her into a slave." He said tersely, keeping his anger at the suggestion in check.

Adrastia had by this point walked around his seat and placed her hands on his shoulder, leaning down to whisper into his ear. "You don't have to. All you need to do is….. _encourage_ her to be grateful to you for being a merciful lord."

"By fucking her brains out." Harry scowled, offended by the suggestion. This was exactly what he _didn't_ want to use the Joining for. When he did it together with Fleur, it was beautiful. What Adrastia was suggesting was anything but.

"I know you've thought about it." She said in a sultry tone, gently squeezing his shoulders and sending her aura to mingle with his for as far as he would allow. "Narcissa is a beautiful woman after all."

"Of course I've thought about it, it's what I do. I think." He grumbled, keeping a careful watch on what she was doing magically but not expelling her. She was letting him sense her intent and he could tell that she was sincere in trying to help him, though there was still the shadow of an ulterior motive behind it, but it didn't feel malicious. Not towards him at any rate.

"And don't deny that it appeals to you." She went on, her voice now a seductive whisper. "What you did to poor Lucius…I know revenge when I see it, and revenge I respect. You could have his woman as well, have Draco's mother begging you for more. She would enjoy it even."

That was far too tempting for Harry's comfort and he shrugged her hands off.

Adrastia backed away easily and walked back in front of him. "Well, it was just a suggestion. You could also leave things as they are and see if she can convince anyone to help her out financially since she and Draco currently have no access to money of any kind."

Oh. Harry hadn't even thought of that.

"Or if you are feeling particularly cruel, you could cast her out of the Black family and see what happens. She might be able to find a relatively respectable job, but I hear that disgraced noblewomen make for quite the attraction as whores. I must admit that I am curious to see if she has the strength to endure that for the sake of her son or if she would take her own life."

Well that was one option that he wasn't planning to use anymore. He may not have any fondness for Narcissa, but he couldn't bring himself to knowingly condemn her to that. Annoyingly enough, he felt a small bit of gratitude towards Adrastia for suggesting that he not banish Narcissa from the Black family. It would have made him feel terribly guilty if he did that and learned about the consequences later.

XXXXX

As he walked through the doors of 74 Cromwell Road, Harry felt like an intruder in a stranger's house. This place had never felt like home in the sense of family, but now it even felt foreign as a residence. It only confirmed his decision that it was time to cut ties with his foster parents.

"Anybody home?" He called out, not feeling in the mood to search the house.

He heard the sound of approaching footsteps in respouse to his shout and smiled tightly.

"Who are…Harry?" Roberts said, starting out hostile at the apparent stranger and trailing off into bafflement at the sight of him. Harry had been rather big and old looking for his age the last time they had seen him, but this was getting ridiculous.

"Robert, Katherine." Harry nodded at them. "We have to talk."

"We were expecting you yesterday." Katherine said, a tremor of nervousness in her tone. There was something deeply unnerving about the hardened green eyes staring at her. She didn't understand the boy they had taken into their home seven years ago anymore, hadn't understood him for some time really.

"I know." Was Harry's only response. "I'll get right to the point. I've just been emancipated in the magical world. I don't need you anymore."

Robert spluttered in outrage. "Don't need us anymore?! After everything-"

His budding tirade was silenced with a wave of Harry's hand. His mouth still moved but no sound was produced. "Shut up and listen."

Robert was already forcibly shut up, but stopped trying to talk anyway and his wife followed suit, frightened by the overt display of power.

"You've done a lot to help me even if your reasons were selfish. You got me out of that orphanage, got me the finest education money can buy, got my eyes fixed, made sure I ate well and left me enough time for my own purposes. For all of that and more, I thank you." Harry said sincerely.

"You also taught me a lot of important life lessons. You taught me that optimism is useless, that people aren't against you so much as they are for themselves, that family is just a word and that if you want something you have to get it yourself. For that too, I thank you. These lessons have been invaluable so far and I'm sure they will continue to be in the future."

Both non-magicals averted their eyes. The genuine sincerity struck far deeper than angry shouting could ever hope to.

"I'm sure your plans have been inconvenienced by my absences these past couple of years and I can't say that I really care about that. You bought my cooperation in your silly social schemes by giving me a place to stay and I don't need that anymore. I don't need _you_ anymore. You can tell your 'friends' whatever cock and bull story you want about me, I don't care. I don't hate you, I don't even resent you, but I don't want anything more to do with you either. You still have my phone number and I won't go into a purple-faced rage if you contact me, but don't bother me with social calls. In recognition of what you've done for me, I'll pop over if you really need my help, but only for serious things. If you decide to foster or adopt or even conceive another kid, I'd advise you to try being a little more parental. Goodbye."

With a final wave of his hand to dispel the Silencing Charm on Robert, Harry apparated away.

XXXXX

As he walked back through the front door of Potter Manor, Harry mused that the final confrontation with his foster parents had gone rather smoothly. It was amazing how easy these things were when only one side had the priviliege of speaking.

Returning to the sight of Albus Dumbledore waiting in his sitting room produced nothing but a frown from the recently emancipated wizard.

"You're here already?" Harry asked critically. "It's not even lunch time yet."

"I take it you were expecting me then?" Albus asked, furrowing his bushy eyebrows.

"After yesterday? Of course I was expecting you." Harry rolled his eyes.

Albus didn't let the surprise he was feeling show on his face. "You killed a man yesterday, Harry."

"I've killed people before." Harry countered blithely.

"Killing in self-defense is different from deliberately setting out to kill someone."

"And deliberately setting out to kill someone so that he stops sending assassins after me is different from random murder. What's your point?"

"You could have searched for proof of his crimes." Albus said, sounding disappointed.

"Because that's worked _so_ well in the past." Harry jeered sarcastically. "Come on, Albus, get to the point. You're here because you're afraid of me going 'Dark' or something equally asinine."

The old wizard was startled by the shocking directness of the statement. He was used to rather more circuitous conversations, but since Harry had ended any chance of that happening he would simply have to go along with it. "Can you blame me?"

"I guess not, old wizards are notorioulsy prone to paranoia after all." Harry jibed. "You don't have to worry though. I have no interest in taking over the world, or even part of it for that matter. It's too much work and it would suck up all my free time."

"Harry, this is no laughing matter." Albus said with a deep frown.

"I'm not joking." Harry said flatly. "I know this might shock you, Albus, but it _is_ possible for a person to be something other than a rainbow farting do-gooder or a puppy kicking arsehole. I don't care much for people or politics and I certainly won't waste any more time on either than I absolutely have to. I'm a Wizard and I concern myself with magic above all else."

Albus knew of course that the world was not cleanly divided between good people and bad people, only small children thought otherwise, but he still worried. A powerful wizard who didn't restrain himself could easily fall into evil with the right provocation. He felt that perhaps Harry's claim about not caring for people was a tad exaggerated since he clearly cared for those close to him, but perhaps he simply hadn't wanted to name exceptions. What struck the old wizard the most however was the certainty in Harry's words, the almost audible capitalization when he named himself a wizard. He wasn't a boy adrift on the tides of life anymore, but a man with a clear course.

The sense of great power coming from him didn't hurt in reinforcing his words either. Albus was certain that Harry would soon surpass him. How he managed it at such a young age, he couldn't fathom, but it was happening.

A wizard's true power lay not in the number of spells they knew or the destruction they could cause, but in their understanding of the world and their life experience. By some means, Harry had gained vast knowledge that should have eluded him for decades yet and Albus genuinely feared what he would become in those decades. The idea that he would be able to match Voldemort on an even keel no longer seemed so out of reach.

"What will you do now?" Albus asked softly.

"Travel a bit, see the world. Learn how different people did magic." Harry replied with a shrug.

That didn't really ease the old wizard's mind. Voldemort had also travelled as a young man.

"What about Voldemort, Harry? What about the prophecy?"

"He's dead isn't he? We destroyed his phylactery in the Chamber of Secrets." Harry asked, playing dumb. He wanted to see if Dumbledore was willing to cooperate yet.

"Alas, I fear he had more."

Harry feigned surprise. "I didn't know that was possible."

"I suspect nobody did until Voldemort accomplished it." Albus said with a nod.

"So, do you have any idea where he hid the others?" He wasn't going to mention the locket.

Harry pretended not to notice the way that the old man's eyes flicked towards his scar for a split second. It had faded only slightly after he had expelled Voldemort's soul fragment from himself. So, Dumbledore knew about that and hadn't said anything. How ominous.

"No, unfortunately."

"Well I'm not going to put my life on hold for that madman. I'll leave finding them up to you since you knew the crazy bastard better anyway."

"You're going to just leave?! Even knowing that Voldemort is still alive?" Albus spluttered, stunned by Harry's flippancy.

"What else do you expect me to do, sit here twiddling my thumbs until he shows up?" The younger wizard asked sarcastically. "With the prophecy in play, I'll end up fighting him no matter what. I might as well learn a few things in the meantime."

"Harry, this is incredibly irresponsible of you." Albus went for the disappointed grandfather act out of habit.

"Wanting to live my life is irresponsible?" Harry asked, heat creeping into his tone. "Fuck you, Dumbledore."

"What?" Albus blinked, the sudden vulgarity derailing his thoughts quite handily.

"Prophecy or not, Voldemort is more your Dark Lord than mine. I'll fight him if I have to, but I'm not going to sit around shitting myself at the thought of him. It's been almost fourteen years since he was defeated, what have you done to make sure he can't come back since then?"

Albus wasn't sure how to answer that question and Harry didn't really give him time to do so in any case.

"I know you came here quaking in your boots at the thought of me becoming another Dark Lord. Well, you can rest assured that it won't happen. I might not be the nicest of people, but I don't get my jollies from torture and murder either. I'm not even interested in toppling the government despite how corrupt it is, too much work as I said. Now I'd appreciate it if you got out of my house, and try to remember next time that it's rude to drop by unannounced."

"Harry, I only have the greater good of the Wizarding World in mind." Albus said sadly. This wasn't how he hd envisioned this conversation going.

"That's nice. Personally, I don't give a shit about it. I might not even have bothered worrying about Voldemort if it wasn't for that bloody prophecy." Harry scoffed.

"'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.'" Dumbledore quoted.

"Oh, are we trading trite sayings now? I have one of those too. 'The road to Hell is paved with good intentions'. I hear that Hitler and Grindelwald had some ideas about the Greater Good too, so I'll wager that my indifference is far more benign than your 'good intentions'."

Albus visibly flinched at the unexpected lance into an old wound.

Harry stared after his uninvited visitor long after the man had left, thinking. Albus Dumbledore wasn't an evil man, but he was infuriatingly condescending and hypocritical, all the more so because he didn't even seem aware of it.

Harry had asked Penny to look into the man's past actions as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Supreme Mugwump of the ICW. He had also looked at whatever historical data was publically available on him and learned that he was rumored to have some history with Grindelwald aside from just their famous duel. What exactly that history was he had no idea, but it was there.

Penny's research had uncovered some rather surprising information.

Despite being a known supporter of muggleborns and equality, Dumbledore didn't actually _do_ anything to support it. Unless you counted frequently making muggleborns Head Boy or Head Girl in Hogwarts, which Harry didn't.

He had all the power in the world to push for change in magical Britain's stagnant culture, but he did nothing. He proposed no new laws and suggested no changes to existing ones. In fact, the only thing he seemed to do was go with the flow and react to things as they came, and even then he just maintained the status quo. That he was powerful was beyond dispute, but he did nothing with that power.

Albus Dumbledore the Useless.

Even during the war against Voldemort, he wasn't seen doing much at all. Everyone knew that the Dark Lord avoided direct confrontation with him, but that was it. There had been no more than a mere handful of battles between the two of them. And he never, ever made the first move. It was always a reaction to something that Voldemort and the Death Eaters did.

Albus Dumbledore the Defensive.

Harry in fact suspected that he could have proclaimed himself a Dark Lord right in Dumbledore's face, and the old man would be so stunned that he wouldn't know what to do. Of course, anyone could talk shit about being a Dark Lord, but it didn't mean anything if they weren't out there spreading chaos and mayhem, so maybe that was a bad example. Still it highlighted Dumbledore's problems quite nicely. He gave other people the disappointed grandfather act if they didn't do what he expected, but he couldn't be arsed to act on his own.

No wonder the scum weren't afraid to cross him anymore, plotting under his very nose.

Albus Dumbledore the Toothless.

XXXXX

In the wake of his conversation with Dumbledore, Harry went into the basement of Potter Manor and into the room he'd turned into a private workshop.

There he took out the box containing the Horcrux locket that had been in his keeping for a year now. He'd had it with him at Hogwarts and had tried to glean something from it at least twice a month, to no avail.

At first, he'd simply been fumbling around and accomplishing nothing, but that had changed over time. Amusingly enough, his increased knowledge of souls came almost exclusively from sex. Adrastia's little revelation of the Joining and then the constant use of it on Luna and Fleur had proven unexpectedly helpful in figuring out the Horcrux.

He had approached it from the entirely wrong angle at first, treating it as a simple enchanted item. It was much more than that. The Horcrux was almost a living being, with a mind and soul of its own even if its body was made of metal rather than flesh.

That was a problem. Harry couldn't do anything to a living being with an independent mind. Voldemort's soul was closed tighter than Gringotts and resisted all manipulation. More importantly, it was _aware_ , Had he the inclination, Voldemort could perform the Joining without much issue. It might be possible to track any other Horcruxes the Dark Lord had made with it, but this part of his soul would never help him with that. Only Voldemort could track his own soul.

You would think that a simple soul fragment wouldn't be strong enough to resist whatever he wanted to do, but again it wasn't that simple. A soul wasn't a cake to be partitioned and distributed. It wasn't a mirror that could be broken and its pieces scattered. The act of murder did not 'break' the soul. All of that was just a metaphor that helped the mind picture it. The soul wasn't an object, but a complex spiritual concept that encompassed everything a person was while still remaning a distinct entity from the mind and body.

The true nature of the soul still eluded Harry, but he knew enough to know that keeping the Horcrux around was pointless. The only way he would ever be able to use it to find the others would be if it helped him do it, which was unlikely to say the least.

"Kreacher." Harry said softly.

"Filthy half-blood called for Kreacher?" The cranky old elf asked and then gasped as he saw the locket that his previous master had entrusted to him. "Master Regulus' locket!"

"I know you wanted me to destroy it back when we found it and you've been very patient while I researched it. I've learned all I can from it now." Harry said, pulling out a small vial of basilisk venom and handing it to the transfixed house elf. "Would you like to do the honors?"

Kreacher took the vial with a shaky hand and looked up at the current Lord Black. The one he had continually insulted, but who had never taken offense and always treated him kindly and who was now giving him the means to fulfill Master Regulus' final request. Perhaps he wasn't such a bad master after all, even if he was a half-blood.

Carefully, Kreacher poured the venom over the locket, watching wide eyed as an unearthly shriek emanated from the hated object. The old elf felt as if a massive weight had lifted off his shoulders and he stood taller. He could be a proud elf of the Black family again.

"Thank you, Master." He said, manfully holding back his emotions. He wouldn't blubber like that silly Potter elf did all the time.

"You're welcome, Kreacher." Harry replied with an amused smile. Not being able to use one Horcrux to track the others was bad, but seeing Kreacher proudly puffing his chest out was damn funny. "Will you finally agree to wear something nicer than that pillow case now?"

"This is proper house elf clothing." Kreacher insisted stubbornly, as usual.

"Well I won't force you, but I really think it would look better if we got you a nice uniform." Harry said with a shrug. "I'm sure I could convince Bryanna and Tiana to make something for you."

"Kreacher will think about it." The old elf grumbled. He knew those girls were barely a step above mudbloods, but they had been nice to him and were friends of the master. Maybe a uniform wouldn't be so terrible.

XXXXX

 _Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts._

Albus sat at his desk, listlessly popping lemon drops into his mouth.

Everything was all wrong. Harry Potter had no care for Britain, thought nothing of the people that would suffer under Voldemort. He didn't even seem interested in avenging his parents. If not for the prophecy, he would spare no thought for Voldemort at all.

Harry Potter was selfish and self-interested. Albus had thought that leaving him to grow up with muggles would keep him away from his fame and allow him to grow up into the fine young man that James and Lily's son would surely be. Certainly, it had prevented him from growing up bigheaded and entitled, or Merlin forbid a blood supremacist, but he was no hero.

With the lad so clearly belligerent towards authority figures and unwilling to see him as a mentor, Albus had envisioned the two of them working together to hunt down Voldemort's remaining Horcruxes, with Harry eventually facing off against the restored Dark Lord. He would be defeated of course, but that would just make Voldemort mortal again. Albus didn't like this plan, but with the alternative being an immortal Voldemort ruling the world, what he liked wasn't even a factor.

But Harry wasn't playing along. He had made it quite clear that he wasn't interested in his destiny. It would catch up to him eventually of course, destiny had a way of doing that, but what would happen to the world in the meantime?

Bringing Harry fully into his confidence had never crossed his mind. Even telling a selfless and self-sacrificing man that he needed to die for the greater good of all was a risky gamble, telling someone like Harry would be insane.

"What do I do now, Fawkes?" Albus asked softly, looking towards his feathery friend but not really expecting an answer. "How am I supposed to work towards Voldemort's final defeat if Harry will not even stay in Britain?"

Fawkes gave a reassuring trill that made the old wizard think that everything would be alright.

"Thank you, old friend." Albus said with a smile. He could always rely on Fawkes to make him feel better, even if it didn't aleviate his worries.

XXXXX

 _Evening of the same day._

"You are of course, joking." Fleur said flatly.

"Nope, I'm dead serious." Harry said brightly.

"Zis is not a maid uniform, eet eez lingerie!" The veela protested, holding the offending garment at arm's length.

It was black with a little white apron design to be sure, but that was where the resemblence slowly came to an end. For one thing it was less of a dress-like garment and more of a tube top with a tiny little skirt attached. And that was all that there was to it really, except for the fishnet stockings and headpiece accessory.

"I did say it would be extra sexy." Harry shrugged. "It has an enchantment worked into the bust for support, so you won't be needing a bra."

"Zis eez humiliating." Fleur grumbled.

"Lost bets usually are, but if you hate it _that_ much then I suppose you could welch out on it." He shrugged again.

Fleur's eyebrow twitched. Her pride would never allow that. "Fine, I will wear eet!"

"Can I have one too?" Luna asked, bouncing lightly on her feet and staring at the pretty outfit.

"Errrr…." Harry responded eloquently. He hadn't planned for this.

"Yes, 'Arry, can Luna 'ave one too?" Fleur asked, gloating shamelessly at his consternation.

Looking at Luna's pleading gaze left him with only one possible answer.

"Sure." He sighed.

"Yay!" Luna squealed and threw her hands around his neck.

There was a knock on the door at that point.

"Come in." Harry called.

Penny entered, took one look at Fleur holding a rather fetishistic French maid outfit, shook her head and decided to pretend she hadn't seen anything. "Mail."

"Important mail?" Harry asked in resignation. She wouldn't have brought it to him if it wasn't, but one could hope.

"Yep."

"Alright, lay it on me."

"Aside from an abnormally large amount of fan and hate mail, you also got an interview request from the _Daily Prophet_."

"Pass."

"A job offer from the Department of Mysteries."

Harry snorted. "Pass." No way was he shackling himself to the Ministry like that. Damn Unspeakables probably just wanted to know his secrets.

"An invitation to join the Auror Corps, signed by Director Bones herself."

Harry blinked. Was Bones taking the piss out of him? "Send back a rejection, but be politer than normal. And include a bottle of firewhiskey."

"Why would you send her firewhiskey alongside a rejection letter?" Penny asked, looking at him funny.

"I have a feeling she'll get a kick out of it."

"If you say so." Penny said, still looking at him funny, but moving on to the next set of letters anyway. "A bunch of thinly veiled solicitations for donations from a variety of places."

"Pass. No donations until I start making money again." He was well aware that rich people occasionally needed to toss some money around to look like they cared, but he wasn't planning to do a Weasley and spend his limited supply of money carelessly.

"A request from Minister Fudge to meet with you at your earliest convenience."

Harry rubbed a hand over his face with a groan. Fucking Fudge. Telling him that he was on vacation for the rest of the summer probably wasn't a good idea, though it was certainly a tempting one. "Tell him I'll be there in…two days." An adult for barely one day and he was already getting pissed off by all the twats asking for things.

"Alright. An extremely polite request from Narcissa Black to meet with Lord Black at a time and place of your choosing. This is actually some of the most refined grovelling I've ever seen."

Harry worked his jaw as he considered this one. He'd been thinking of what to do about Sirius' cousin since Adrastia's visit, but was still no closer to having an answer than he had been this morning.

"Tell her….tell her to come to Grimmauld Place in four days, on the 30th." The old home of the Black family was much emptier than it used to be but there was still some furniture there that hadn't been sold yet. Using it for this also seemed like a better idea than having her come over to Potter Manor or him going to Malfoy Manor.

XXXXX

Amelia's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she unwrapped the bottle of fine firewhiskey that had just been delivered. A few quick spells determined that it wasn't tampered with.

Reaching for the accompanying letter, her eyebrows furrowed further as she read Harry Potter's refusal to join the Auror Corps. She hadn't really expected him to accept, but it had been worth a try. He would have probably driven Scrimgeour crazy, but the prestige would have been more than worth it, not to mention his obvious power.

But the firewhiskey….

Abruptly, a dry chuckle erupted from her throat as it dawned on her what was being implied here.

"Cheeky bastard." She muttered to herself. Damned powerful wizards and their secrets. Potter somehow knew that she wasn't exactly upset by Malfoy's death, and he had the nerve to send her something to celebrate with.

"Well, why not?" Amelia said and poured herself a glass. "Here's to you, Edgar."

Her poor, careless brother, who had been murdered by Death Eaters towards the end of the war while on a date with his wife. Amelia had been babysitting Susan for them, which was the only reason that she had any family left.

If it wasn't for her niece, she might have decided to get some revenge and damn the consequences. It didn't even matter if she got the exact ones that had killed her brother. One Death Eater was as good as another. The animals were all the same anyway.

This thing with Malfoy had been murder. Legal murder, but still murder. Potter was definitely someone to keep an eye on, as it said quite a lot that he had been willing and able to go through with it. She didn't know if the others he had killed was also deliberate on his part or if it really was just trouble being attracted to him. Either way, she couldn't say she was displeased with the results. If he went after anyone else she would hunt him down like any other criminal, but as long as it was just Death Eaters then she wasn't inclined to look at it too closely.

XXXXX

 **This chapter was supposed to end at the start of the island vacation. My original idea was to just keep writing until I reached that point, but the word count got quite a bit larger than I was expecting with all the plot points that needed to be addressed.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Thanks go to Joe Lawyer for his valuable work as a beta reader.**

XXXXX

 _Day of the meeting with Fudge._

Harry woke up and let out a discontent sigh. He was wedged between Fleur and Luna and would have liked to stay there, but his left arm was sore and he needed to relieve his bladder.

It wasn't dawn yet, so both blondes were sleeping like the dead and he was able to extricate himself without much difficulty. The girls only let out a few sleepy grumbles before closing the distance between them in search of body heat.

Smiling wryly, Harry pulled the covers over them and padded over to the bathroom without bothering to put on any clothes. It was amazing how quickly your sense of modesty could get eroded around a veela that absolutely refused to sleep anything but naked and a pouting Luna who didn't understand why she should wear pajamas if Fleur didn't. It hadn't taken long before he ended up foregoing clothing as well.

Once he came back, he no longer felt like returning to bed, so he got dressed in a pair of shorts and T-shirt.

"Teeny, could you please bring me my trainers?" He whispered, not wanting to wake the two women.

The requested footwear appeared in front of him with a barely any sound.

"Thank you, you're the best." He whispered again, grinning at the flash of happiness his words produced. Heh, house elves.

Now suitably attired, Harry walked to the balcony that the master bedroom had attached to it, smiling at the still dark sky. Then he vaulted over the railing with a grin. Jumping from the second floor was usually a good way to break your legs, or at least hurt them a lot, but the Slowfall spell made sure he impacted with only enough force to slightly bend his knees.

A short stretching session later, he took off at a run. He wasn't the most enthusiastic exerciser, but he liked the benefits and so did it anyway. Running was admittedly new, but he figured that if he was going to exercise then he might as well do this too. He had read many a warning about skipping leg day and decided to heed them.

Fleur had her own exercise routine, somewhat to his surprise as he had never seen her doing it while at Hogwarts. Apparently exercise was a common veela activity, driven largely by inborn vanity. Even the laziest veela would rather sweat for hours at a time than get even slightly chubby. Fat shaming was a way of life for them if Fleur's overall attitude when talking about it was any clue.

Harry had gotten a chuckle out of learning that. Veela fit so many 'appearance obsessed blonde' stereotypes that it was really quite hilarious, except for the parts where they could set you on fire if they got angry.

That she liked to do her own routine later in the day and didn't want to join him was actually a relief to Harry. Fleur might be living with him now, but he wouldn't have wanted to spend every waking moment with her.

Around half an hour later, he was back under his balcony, breathing hard and sweating. Running sucked. Good thing he had runes that would massively shorten the amount of time it would take for his body to get used to the new form of exertion. He wasn't sure if he could have been arsed to do this the slow way.

Looking upwards contemplatively, Harry shrugged, applied a Featherweight spell to himself and jumped as hard as he could. His now very low weight allowed him to propel himself quite a bit higher than necessary and it took some flailing and some more magical assistance to deposit him safely back on the balcony. _Good concept, but needs work._

Luna and Fleur were awake by now, which he had expected since the sun was up. The enthusiastic makeout session they were currently engaged in was less expected, but not any kind of shock. He'd known that the two of them got up to this sort of thing sometimes, though he'd never seen it himself. It was hot, really hot and he couldn't object without being the worst sort of hypocrite.

"Good morning." He said, causing the two girls to break their liplock and return his greeting.

"Did you enjoy your run?" Luna asked, seeing his clothes.

"Not really." He answered wryly. "Did you enjoy your kissing?"

"Mhm." She nodded happily. "Fleur is a very good kisser."

"I know." Harry grinned back.

"Why don't you come over 'ere zen." The veela in question purred invitingly.

"Gotta finish my workout first." He replied and took off everything except his underwear. The sweaty clothes vanished instantly, confiscated by the cleanliness obsessed Potter elf.

Fleur pouted at the rejection. Giving him a blowjob first thing in the morning had become a habit that she didn't like having disrupted. His magically potent seed was orders of magnitude superior to even the best coffee or tea in the world as a way to start the day. For a veela at least.

Harry paid no heed to her pout and quickly got into position to do some push-ups. Then he frowned at the sudden weight on his back.

"Luna, why are you on my back?"

"I'm helping." She explained serenely. Then she licked him between the shoulder blades and giggled. "Mmmm, salty."

Harry shook his head and determinedly ignored the feeling of her small breasts pressing into him. He could have told her to get off, but even he was not immune to the caveman urge to show off in front of his women.

Doing push-ups with someone on your back was predictably a lot harder than it was without the extra weight, even if Luna wasn't exactly heavy. The fact that her tongue would occasionally dart out of her mouth and lick up some sweat with more giggles or that her hands were a bit adventurous wasn't helping.

"Are you done now?" Fleur asked huskily once he stopped, licking her lips suggestively. Watching his muscles flex hadn't done anything to cool her off.

Harry suppressed a smirk. He had plans for the horny veela, plans that involved frustrating her as much as possible. He had dodged having sex with her since they got back from Hogwarts for that very reason. "No, I still have to do some sit-ups."

Fleur pouted again, but remained undeterred. "I can 'old your feet and count zen."

"Alright." Harry agreed, though privately detemining to stick his feet to the floor with magic anyway since he doubted she could actually keep him still.

Fleur, still naked, pressed her hands to his feet as he started on the sit-ups, staring avariciously at the obviously erect member hidden by his underwear.

"Ten." She purred at the appropriate time, holding her arms in such a way that it emphasized her breasts.

"Twenty."

Luna was content to just watch from the side for a while, but she eventually moved behind Fleur and examined the veela's naked bum. This was the first time she got to see it displayed quite so blatantly. She judged it to be a very nice bum, firm and round. Twisting around to look at her own, Luna frowned. Her own didn't seem nearly as good. Just to make sure, she gave it a good squeeze and then did the same to Fleur's in order to make a comparison. Yes, there was no doubt about it. Fleur had the better bum. Hers was much flabbier.

Fleur jumped slightly at the unexpected grope and twisted her head around to look at Luna. "What was zat for?"

"You have a very nice bum." Luna stated matter-of-factly.

" _Merci_." Fleur said, bemused both by the sudden compliment and the delivery of it.

"How do I get a bum like that?"

Fleur smiled at the younger girl. "I can show you later today." It would be nice to share her aerobics routine with someone like she had done with her mother at home.

"We may need to get you some exercise clothes if you're planning to join Fleur." Harry interjected, having been greatly amused by Luna's clinical arse assessment .

"Are we going to go see Bryanna and Tiana?" Luna asked with a smile. She would get to see those two again as well as start getting a firm bum. It was going to be a good day.

"That would be for the best." Harry replied with a nod, stopping his sit-ups and getting up to stretch a bit. He wasn't sure if they made exercise clothes, but it shouldn't be too hard for them.

"I would like to come as well." Fleur said quickly. She wanted to meet these friends of Harry's. Not only would they be going to Black Island together, but she also recognized the names as belonging to his previous sexual partners.

"Alright." Harry shrugged and started walking towards the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" Fleur asked, quickly standing up. She was not going to miss out on her morning treat.

"To take a shower, I stink." He replied blithely, not stopping or turning around. There was an unseen grin on his face though, knowing that Fleur had expected some fun to be had.

Fleur stared after him with her mouth open and then marched after him with determination. The shower was big enough for two people.

Luna skipped after them. The shower was big enough for three people.

XXXXX

 _This shower is big enough for six people. Six fat people._ Harry estimated.

He had no idea why anyone would need a shower this big, but he chalked it up to the typical mindset of rich people about how everything needed to be unnecessarily big. Harry wasn't impressed enough with his own family to forget that the Potters had probably been just as cunty as any other purebloods at some point. His old man wouldn't have been a pureblood if they hadn't cared about 'maintaining the purity of their bloodline'.

The cuntiness level of his family aside, he supposed he could understand the size of the shower. It really was quite convenient to be have it so big and space expansion charms were good at making things convenient. Especially when you didn't have to worry about plumbing. Water Conjuration enchantment on the the nozzles and water Vanishing on the drain and voilà, shower. In theory, even a below average wizard would make a passable plumber. In theory.

"Is it normal for a penis to twitch like that?" Luna asked inquisitively, staring at the only such organ currently present. She'd seen it before of course, but Harry always tried to hide it from her so this was the first time she had a chance to really examine it.

"Sometimes." Fleur answered, amused.

Harry manfully ignored them and wondered how it had come to this, sharing a shower with two girls and letting them ogle his junk, especially since one of these two girls was his fourteen-year-old best friend.

Ah yes, snowballing. He'd let Luna get away with a lot of things because he wanted to be there for her after the loss of her father and she'd gotten used to sleeping in his bed and bathing with him. He'd managed to keep things platonic despite Luna's obvious curiousity, but then Fleur had come into the picture. The hypersexual veela had encouraged Luna's interest from day one and completely wrecked any chance of things staying platonic. As it was, Harry had pretty much resigned himself to the idea of things taking a sexual turn with Luna as soon as she hit sixteen and the promise to her father expired. It wasn't that he was repulsed by the thought of sleeping with her, far from it, but Luna was just special. Fleur had already talked to him about it and encouraged him to accept her advances.

He still found the harem idea strange, but he had to admit that he was more comfortable with multiple casual sexual partners than a single serious one. Raven Animagus leanings towards monogamy or not, he wasn't particularly enthusiastic about committing to anyone. Though he also wasn't ruling out the possibility that the Joining was playing a part in making things comfortable.

"It's cute." Luna declared.

Harry could practically feel his masculinity dropping at Fleur's giggling in response to that one.

"It is _not_ cute." He asserted.

"But just look at it, it's like a puppy!" Luna insisted.

Fleur slapped a hand over her mouth to contain her laughter, though her eyes still twinkled merrily.

Harry shot her a look. Not really an annoyed look, because it was impossible to be truly annoyed at Luna's strangely innocent sexuality, but a Look.

"I am sorry." Fleur apologised, though it came off as rather insincere thanks to the sparkle in her eye and the smile on her face.

"I bet you are." Harry grumbled, not genuinely upset. He was well used to Luna's comments after all.

"Let me make it up to you." Fleur said invitingly, stepping closer and going in for a kiss.

Luna watched with a smile as it happened, holding back a giggle as Harry's penis bounced against Fleur's hip.

"I want a kiss too!" She piped up as soon as they stopped.

Harry looked over at his first and best friend with some degree of consternation, pursing his lips thoughtfully. He knew that Luna wouldn't push if he said no nor would she be upset, but she clearly wanted this and would just ask for it again later.

A quick glance towards the third shower occupant only got him a mischievous smile and a 'get on with it' gesture. Figures.

With a mental shrug, Harry decided to just do it. Luna knew what she wanted and he had no tangible objection to it really. Even the standard 'I don't want to ruin our friendship' argument wasn't any good here. Luna's brain simply didn't work that way. To her, there was no difference between 'best friend' and 'spouse', with sex just being a fun thing that people did with each other. Wrapping his head around that one had taken quite a while.

"Alright, come over here." He said, getting a beaming smile from her.

Harry was oddly nervous about kissing his best friend for the first time, but she had no such restraint and practically jumped into his arms.

Fleur smiled gleefully from where she was watching. She hadn't expected to loosen Harry up enough for this until they got to Black Island.

And speaking of loosening up, this would be the perfect time to extract her morning treat.

Harry tensed momentarily when he felt a hot mouth envelop his manhood, but relaxed quickly. He had been intending to dodge Fleur's advances for another day, but he wasn't going to push her off now that she'd started. Besides, Luna didn't seem willing to break the kiss any time soon.

XXXXX

"Here eez your juice, my lord." Fleur said as she set a glass of orange juice in front of Harry, leaning down to say it into his ear seductively.

"Thank you, Fleur." Harry said, smiling at her. That maid outfit really did look great on her.

"Eet eez my pleasure to serve you, my lord." Fleur said in the same seductive, breathy tone and sat down next to him. This kind of servile behavior was a bit humiliating, but a bet was a bet and there was only one day left anyway. It helped that Luna was sitting on his other side dressed in an identical – if smaller – maid uniform, happily munching on a piece of toast.

Sirius watched all of this with vast amounts of pride, amusement and envy. Not even he could claim to have had a veela dressed as a sexy French maid obeying his every command. James would have had a tear in his eye if he could see this...then they would all have lumps on their heads when Lily saw it. But it would have been totally worth it.

Penny did her best to ignore it altogether. The whole thing was embarrassing.

"So, meeting with Fudge today." Sirius said out of the blue. "Any idea what he wants?"

Harry shrugged. "Probably panicking without his good friend Lucius to do his thinking for him."

Sirius snickered, that sounded about right.

"I imagine that he wants to make me a visible ally to boost his popularity or something like that."

"Are you planning to go along with it?"

Harry shrugged again, this time more pensively. "I'm not sure. I'd have to see what he has to say first, though I'd prefer to just distance myself from politics entirely."

"You could influence him to start pulling this country out of the Dark Ages." Penny suggested. "Given what you've said about him before, he doesn't seem hard to convince."

Harry nodded with a sigh. That was true, Fudge's only agenda seemed to be staying Minister of Magic, which made him laughably easy to manipulate.

"I suppose I could do that, but I'm not sure I want to be connected to that bumbling idiot. He seems like the type to jump from one mess to another and then beg other people to help him fix it."

"It was just a thought." Penny shrugged. "You could do a lot of good with the power you have."

Harry knew that he could. The problem was that he didn't _want to_. Trying to fix the shithole that was the magical realm of the United Kingdom would bog him down with politics and keep him from doing what he really wanted to.

But he could see Penny's perspective. She might have gotten lucky with this job he'd given her, but that was exactly the problem, it had all been down to luck. He knew that it must grate on her that Britain was so blatantly bigoted. She would likely be disgruntled if he did nothing to at least try fixing it.

"So," Sirius said loudly into the slightly uncomfortable silence that had descended. "any thoughts on how you're going to handle my dear cousin Narcissa?"

"Nope." Harry said adroitly. He had no idea whatsoever.

Sirius was quiet for a moment and then..."You're thinking of boinking her aren't you?"

Harry's next bite of food almost went down the wrong pipe, but he was fortunately not the only one as Penny and Fleur seemed equally surprised. "What?"

"She might be an annoying, snobby bitch, but there's no denying that Cissy is a hot piece of arse. I wanted to bone her too before I learned why incest is bad." Sirius explained.

That was better than having his godfather guess the contents of the conversation between him and Adrastia, Harry thought.

Unsure of how to respond, he retreated into sarcasm. "Well I'm certainly thinking about it _now_. And I doubt a little thing like familial relations would have stopped you from humping a woman."

"Don't be so crass, Harry." Sirius said sternly. "I do not 'hump' women, I escort them through the gates of paradise."

"Of course you do, that's why they're lining up at the front door for you."

"I'd never be so rude as to make them wait by the door when there's plenty of Sirius to go around."

"I see senility is already setting in. Penny, please look for a good retirement home that I can dump him into when the rest of his mind goes."

"Sure thing."

"A kennel will also work in a pinch."

"Noted."

"Or I suppose we could just sell him to the Chinese, a big dog like that would probably feed quite a lot of them."

"See if I offer to take either of you with me to the Holyhead Harpies game after this." Sirius sulked.

"Not interested." Two voices said in unison.

"But it's the Harpies!" Sirius protested, looking more towards his godson than Penny. "The all female quidditch team! And I've got VIP tickets that will let us meet with them after the game."

"Are they going to invite us to an after game orgy?"

"Maybe?" Sirius said, his tone conveying zero confidence in that outcome.

"Well I wouldn't want to steal all the fun if they do." Harry drolled. "Have to throw my dogfather the odd bone."

"You're all heart." Sirius retorted sarcastically.

"I know." Harry said smugly, turning his head to look at the amused veela sitting at his side. "Fleur, could you please pass me that plate of mangoes over there?"

Fleur managed to put a sultry expression on her face instead of rolling her eyes in exasperation. Not only could he summon it wandlessly, but he had also asked the house elves not to do it, just so that he could make her do it. "Of course, my lord."

Harry stared shamelessly at the sexy rump in his face as Fleur bent over while reaching for the requested plate and exchanged a grin with his godfather.

XXXXX

Harry stepped out of the visitor's entrance to the Ministry of magic and almost immediately had to supress the amusement he was feeling.

As soon as he'd been noticed, the atmosphere changed. People muttered, some even gasped, but all scampered out of his way as if he would start throwing fireballs at the slightest provocation.

This trend continued all the way to the Minister's office. The wizard manning the wand registration desk stammered and waved him through without doing his job, everyone suddenly needed to get off the lift when he entered and on every floor the ones who had been intending to get on took one look at him and quickly backpedalled.

Harry would have been annoyed if it wasn't so damn funny. Having the lift to himself was also pretty sweet.

"Hello, I'm here to see the Minister." He said politely to Fudge's pretty secretary, who was looking at him a tad wide eyed.

"Of course, go right ahead, Lord Potter." She replied, flashing him a nervous but wide smile.

"Thank you."

Harry's lips twitched into a smile as he walked past her. That one had some spine in her, more than the ninnies he'd encountered so far anyway.

The first thing he saw when he opened the door to Fudge's office was the Minister of Magic himself, pacing nervously.

"Harry!" The man exclaimed and rushed to shake his hand. "So glad you could make it."

"Cornelius." Harry said back, inwardly amused at how terrible the man was at hiding his emotions. Worst. Politician. Ever.

"Please have a seat. Would you like something to drink?" Fudge went on, just as nervously.

"No thanks, I'm good." Harry replied, sitting down in the offered chair. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh, errm, yes." The Minister stammered, thrown off by the 'straight to the point' approach. Lucius had never been so direct. Ah, of course! Lucius! "I just wanted to see how you were doing after that bad business with Lucius the other day. I'd never have thought him capable of assassination."

Harry couldn't help raising a sardonic eyebrow, wondering if they were even talking about the same Lucius. Malfoy had practically _oozed_ shady vibes. "People can surprise you like that."

Fudge seemed oblivious to the irony in his tone, as per usual. He sighed in a faux weary manner, as if some great burden lay upon his shoulders. "Very true, I hadn't expected it of Dolores either."

Harry had to resist a snort this time. Now there was a woman that was nothing _but_ ooze. "Don't be too hard on yourself, Cornelius, you can't be expected to know everything." _Although you definitely should have known this._

The Minister was once again deaf to the irony. "You're right of course and at least this mess is over with now."

 _I can't believe he's this pliable_. Harry thought to himself in disbelief. Fudge had always been a puny wizard, but his aura was shifting around like a jellyfish in a shallow ocean. He would go along with literally anything that benefited him as long as it was in his comfort zone. "Yes, good thing that. I can get on with my life now."

Fudge fidgeted nervously before speaking and then threw out a very unsubtle fishing line. "Is there any particular goal you've set for yourself now that you're an adult?"

"Not really." Harry shrugged. "Sirius and I, as well as a few others, are going on a vacation for the summer and after that I'm intending to do a little travelling. See the world, you know?"

"A great thing, to broaden your horizons." Fudge said effusively and then went back to nervousness. "But, err, you will still spend some time in Britain, won't you?"

"Probably, why do you ask?"

"Well, there is an annual celebration of your victory over You-Know-Who held on Halloween and I was hoping that you would attend this year."

Fudge looked so hopeful that Harry might have even felt bad about his next words if he had actually liked the guy. "I'm not usually one for parties and I can't say that one celebrating my parents' murder appeals to me..."

The Minister seemed to be attempting both a mortified pallor and an embarrassed flush at the same time. The end result was sort of blue.

"...but I'll think about it. You can rest assured that I'll give you my decision with time to spare." Much as he would like to flatly refuse attendance, he was too cautious to do it, particularly with Adrastia's warning still fresh in his mind. Better to hedge his bets as much as possible.

Fudge seemed to regain his ability to breathe upon seeing that he hadn't inadvertently offended his guest.

"Thank you, Harry, I appreciate that." He said, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing at the sweat on his forehead.

"Think nothing of it, Cornelius." Harry replied, his thoughts already elsewhere.

Adrastia was right. Again. He really was going to need a fucking social secretary.

XXXXX

Fleur walked through the door of Harry's bedroom with a feeling of anticipation in her gut.

"You wanted to see me, my lord?" She asked breathily, clasping her arms together so that her breasts were pushed even further up. She was inwardly cringing at her own behavior, but at least it was the last day of the bet.

"Indeed I did." He sounded amused, the smug bastard. "How have you enjoyed working for me, Fleur?"

"Eet 'as been an honor, my lord." She answered vapidly, holding back the umpteenth eyeroll of the past three days. The only thing that made it bearable was the knowledge that she would have made him act just as ridiculous if she had been the winner. At least he hadn't insisted that she stay in character 24/7, something that she might have done.

"Having all your needs taken care of?"

No, she was not having all her needs taken care of! She'd been expecting some roleplay and him to be bending her over every piece of furniture in the manor during this bet, but he'd been avoiding everything except the occasional blowjob, which really wasn't helping her libido at all. The lack of sex was frustrating in the extreme.

Not that she was going to throw aside her pride and admit that.

" _Oui_ , I am content."

"Good, good." He nodded, looking neither surprised nor put off at her answer. "I have just one last thing I need you to do before your contract expires."

"Anyzzing for you, my lord." Fleur breathed seductively.

He grinned slightly, obviously enjoying himself. "I need a second opinion on the quality of my sheets, so if you could please take your clothes off and lie down on the bed for me that would be grand."

"Right away, my lord." Fleur agreed as if there was nothing strange about the request. This was an obvious and rather clumsy lead up to sex, but she was so horny after three days of teasing that she didn't even care.

She undressed with unecessary sexuality that she was gratified to note had his full attention and then spread herself across the bed sensually.

"Zey are wonderful sheets." She declared and continued in a faux worried manner. "I 'ope my lord is not planning to take advantage of me."

Harry smirked at her and snapped his fingers. Immediately, thick bands of leather wrapped around her wrists and pulled her arms tighly towards the sides of the bed.

"I'm afraid that's exactly what I'm planning to do." He said over her surprised gasp.

Fleur tugged at her bindings but found them to be far too strong to break, probably enchanted then. Well, her preference as far as bondage went was on the other end of the spectrum, but she couldn't protest since the bet was still active. Besides, any sex was better than no sex and he hadn't gotten her to admit that she wanted it, so it was still a win in her book.

"Please be gentle with me." She said sultrily.

"Oh, I will." He replied. Fleur wasn't sure if she liked that gleam in his eye.

True to his words, he was very gentle, taking hold of her left foot and trailing a line of kisses up her leg. Fleur felt herself moistening in anticipation as his lips passed her thigh and she closed her eyes, expecting to feel them on _her_ lips.

He was almost there when he backed off and took hold of her right foot, repeating the process there. To her irritation, he once again backed off just before he reached the out edges of her labia.

"Why so angry?" He asked innocently in response to her glare.

"Nozzing." She huffed, wishing that she could turn her back to him. Staring at the ceiling would have to do.

Harry chuckled and started undressing, again drawing her eyes towards him. The sight of his erect manhood had her clenching as if it was already buried inside her.

Once he was fully naked, he crawled back on the bed and went immediately for the aching spot between her legs, making Fleur arch towards him with a happy sigh as he slowly ran his tongue over her sensitive bits. While her favorite part of him was definitely dangling from between his legs, she was also very impressed by what he could do with his tongue. Most men didn't know how to do anything but talk with it.

He stopped far too soon for her tastes, but she felt the familiar tingle of his magic settling over her clitoris. He was spoiling her with all these pleasure enhancing spells he knew. He moved over her and she expected to feel the tip of his member prodding at her entrance, only to frown in confusion as she felt him reach between them and place it lengthwise along it. What was he up to now?

Something in her eyes must have reflected her confusion because he looked amused. Instead of answering the unspoken question, he laid a gentle kiss on her lips. Fleur returned it eagerly, tasting herself on his tongue.

"Veela are an interesting species." Harry suddenly spoke. "So similar to humans, and yet so different."

"'Arry?" She questioned, wondering what he was up to.

"I've been fascinated by your transformation ever since the first time I saw it." He continued.

Fleur understood where he was going with this now and her eyes widened.

"'Arry, no. Don't do zis." She pleaded. She remembered their first time and how torturous his teasing had been. The raw _need_ that had almost robbed her of thought. It wasn't the first time she had transformed into the avian form, but it had been the most intense by far and the transformation hadn't even been complete. She was honestly frightened of what she would do in that lust maddened state if fully transformed.

"Sorry, Fleur, but I just gotta know." He replied with a grin and began the teasing.

Fleur tried to resist, but it was useless. The kisses along her neck and collarbone, the little nibbles and teases of her nipples, the feel of him throbbing against her core, the tingle of his magic around her clitoris. She couldn't deny her nature and her self-control started to fray.

It got worse when the fuzz started cropping up on her body, as it only enhanced the sensation. Soon after that her vision sharpened and she knew that her eyes must be black as coal. The fuzz thickened and covered her whole body soon after that, followed by the first golden feathers. Her voice had long since turned into a shrill cry by the time the talons started growing on her fingers. She didn't even hesitate in trying to use them to cut through her bindings, but they were toughened by spells and resisted her efforts easily.

Her arms ached from her constant attempts to yank them free, but she didn't feel it. Her legs were unbound and she kicked them furiously in an attempt to get free and mate with the wizard on top of her. When that failed, she blasted him with her Allure at a strength that she could never muster in normal circumstances. And when that failed, she released a piercing shriek of frustration that rattled the walls.

Fleur had lost herself to her instincts by the time that her face started to elongate and transform into a beak. Her arms were completely obscured by golden feathers.

Harry rose up to a kneeling position and grabbed at her flailing legs, holding them still with little effort, though still more than he would have expected given their respective positions and body types. Her magic was going wild and his runes were stinging painfully, but he still held back on penetrating her, wanting to see how far this would go.

He had to quickly throw his own will against hers when he felt flames starting to form and decided that perhaps pushing her any further would be unwise.

Still holding her taloned legs, he reared back and speared himself into her soaked passage in a single motion, grunting in surprise at the furnace he found in there. He knew she'd be hot, but this was crazy.

The transformed Fleur shrieked again at being suddenly filled, struggling even harder now in an attempt to take control.

Harry didn't last long, her heat and tightness being completely ridiculous right now. He emptied himself into her with a loud groan that was completely overshadowed by Fleur's final triumphant shriek.

Harry had long since noted that Fleur seemed to be better lubricated than most human women and small squirts of fluid were common during orgasm, but this time she might as well be a fountain. The spray was so forceful that it reached even over his head and forced him to shut his eyes as he was drenched.

Fleur's transformation slowly receded, leaving behind a panting veela that was shuddering in exhaustion.

Harry quickly released her bindings and laid himself over her, sending out his magic to perform the Joining. Her had held back on it before, not wanting it to interfere.

" _Bâtard_. _"_ Fleur gasped out, shakily wrapping her arms and legs around him.

"Sorry, but I've been fantasizing about doing that ever since the first time." Harry said with an unapologetic grin.

Fleur murmured something about revenge but nodded off before she could finish the sentence. Having his weight on her, his potent seed in her and the soothing darkness of his magic over hers was too much in addition to her exhaustion. She was fast asleep in moments.

Harry looked at the sleeping veela in amusement and turned them around so that she was laying on his chest. He wasn't really that tired yet, but he supposed he owed her a cuddle after forcing her to transform like that.

XXXXX

Narcissa walked up to the door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place and took a fortifying breath. Her childhood home had never looked so intimidating before.

She was wearing her best robes and was as prepared as she could be. This had to go right, it just had to.

She knocked on the door.

To her surprise a familiar face answered. A familiar face wearing decidedly unfamiliar clothing.

"Kreacher?" She blurted out. What in the world was the Black elf doing dressed in what looked like a miniature suit?

"Mistress Narcissa." The old house elf said in greeting. "The Master is expecting you."

"Take me to him then." She ordered imperiously.

The house elf said nothing and simply started walking deeper into the old house, miffing her slightly but she followed anyway. As they passed through several rooms, Narcissa noticed that the house seemed...emptier. Was Potter refurnishing?

Then they came upon an eyesore that she simply couldn't keep quiet about. "What is _that_?"

"A brick wall." Kreacher answered blandly.

"Don't get clever with me, elf." Narcissa snapped. "What is a brick wall doing there?"

"Master Harry ordered it built so that Mistress Walburga's portrait would not be seen or heard anymore."

Yes, Narcissa could imagine that Aunt Walburga wouldn't be too happy about a half blood and her blood traitor son using Grimmauld Place. With how loud the woman could be, it was no wonder that Potter wouldn't want to listen to her.

It wasn't much longer before they arrived in the room where her host was waiting for her. He didn't rise from his seat to greet her, not that he was obligated to, but it was slightly rude. It also told Narcissa that she was entering negotiations with a disadvantage, but she'd already known that.

"Your guest, Master Harry." Kreacher said formally.

"Was she polite?" Harry asked right away.

"No, Master."

"I see. Thank you, Kreacher."

The elf nodded and popped away.

Narcissa had frozen with fear during that short conversation. The house elf had been a test. She hadn't exchanged a single word with her new family head yet and she'd already failed a test.

"My lord." She greeted nervously, hoping that she still had a chance to fix this.

Potter simply nodded and gestured for her to take a seat, which she did. He said nothing and neither did she, afraid of making another misstep. The silence seemed to drag on forever, with every second becoming more tense than the last.

Narcissa had to force herself not to fidget. He had to be doing this on purpose to make her uncomfortable and it was working. The too-green eyes seemed like they were staring right through her.

"I suppose we might as well get to the point." He finally muttered. "You're here because you're afraid I'll kick you out of the family."

Narcissa nodded, unsure if she could speak past the lump in her throat. This wasn't going even close to how she had hoped.

"And if my guess is correct, you're also hoping to convince me to give you a stipend to live on since you don't have access to the Malfoy vaults anymore."

Narcissa nodded again. She had been hoping to work up to that after she had softened his opinion of her a bit.

"Why should I?" Potter demanded, making her flinch at the abruptness. "Your son is an annoying brat and your husband tried to have me killed."

"I had nothing to do with that." Narcissa defended.

"You only cheered from the sidelines, so it's fine?" The rhetorical question was asked with biting sarcasm.

She lowered her gaze, not daring to deny it. She could feel desperate tears prickling at her eyes. She was angry at the downturn her life had taken, but it was overshadowed by fear. Showing anger at the cause of her misfortune wouldn't help. She had met the Dark Lord once and knew this oppressive atmosphere, the presence of someone too powerful to risk angering

She started when Potter launched himself out of his chair with a grunt and started pacing. He looked irritated.

"Please." She begged, feeling her pride shrivel in the face of desperation. "We need help. I can't afford to pay for Draco's Hogwarts tuition. I can't buy him a new wand. We won't even be able to buy food soon." And wasn't that a sad irony, they lived in a huge mansion and had a vault full of gold but were still in danger of starving.

She had hoped it would be easier, but she'd come begging and got the beggar's treatment. It was much more unpleasant being on this side of things that she'd thought it would be.

XXXXX

Harry took a deep breath and scowled. Then he continued pacing.

Narcissa was not a good woman. He'd never been this close to her before, but now that he was he could get a good feel for her. That's what he'd been doing while he'd been quiet.

Just like Sirius had said, she was a snobby bitch. The 'I smell something foul' expression he'd seen on her face during the award ceremony was a perfect reflection of her soul. Her attitude towards Kreacher certainly backed up this assessment. If their positions were reversed, she would have turned him away without a second thought. This was the type of person that you laughed at and made karma jokes about when something bad happened to them.

Of course, they usually weren't teary-eyed and begging for help while you laughed at them. It rather killed the amusement.

But he was loath to be moved by her obvious distress. Helping your enemies out of pity didn't seem like a good idea to name just one reason. Her aura wasn't nearly as unpleasant as Umbridge's had been, but it still grated against his own and made him want to lash out at her. A lot of people had annoying auras, but these snobby purebloods ranked among the worst with the sense of superiority they carried around with them. Harry knew that his own contempt for people like her was partly to blame for that because it made their auras clash, but that was besides the point. Even now, when she was begging and desperate, Narcissa believed deep down that she deserved better than this, something that he disagreed with vehemently. This was exactly what she deserved.

"You haven't answered my question." Harry finally said. "Why should I help you?"

Narcissa pulled herself together as much as she was able. This at least she had come prepared for. Potter's muggle upbringing and young age worked in her favor here.

"I could be of use to you. I'm sure that your steward is very capable, but she won't have the connections that I do. Who owes favors to who, how certain people think, which events are worth attending and which can be ignored, which charities are worth donating to and how much... I can tell you about all of this and more."

That was exactly what Adrastia had suggested he use the woman for and she would indeed be useful. Figures that Narcissa would have the same thought, though she was unlikely to be nearly as clever as the Black Widow.

"And you expect me to trust you to do this?" He asked sardonically. "You, whose husband I killed just a few days ago?"

Narcissa swallowed the grief and anger generated by that reminder. Her marriage to Lucius had never been what could be called passionate, neither one of them being so inclined, and what little of it there had been had long since gone out over the years, but they had cared for each other. Asking for help from his killer was not fun, but it was the most palatable option she had left. For her son, it was worth it.

"I would be willing to swear an Unbreakable Vow if that would satisfy you, my lord." She said stoically.

Harry shook his head at the suggestion. Unbreakable Vows were finicky things and he didn't trust them. Sure, they would kill anyone that broke one, but a clever enough person could reinterpret the wording without too much difficulty. To get one that was foolproof you would need wording worthy of a lawyer and a whole contract worth of conditions. That was a problem, because the person making the vow had to be 100% clear on what they were vowing or else it wouldn't take hold, which meant simple statements and not three page contracts. And a person could only make _one_ Unbreakable Vow, so they couldn't just be piled on top of each other.

There was plenty of room for betrayal when you were prevented from doing or compelled to do one specific thing, even if it was broad in scope. But of course, the broader the Vow, the less specific. Swearing loyalty was very open ended and open to interpretation, making it easily possible to circumvent it. And a too specific vow could be worked around.

It wasn't really that hard to lie and tell the truth at the same time, nor was it really betrayal if Narcissa would just happen to gossip carelessly somewhere without checking for eavesdroppers.

No, he wouldn't accept an Unbreakable Vow. It was too easily sidestepped and just gave a false sense of security. Not to mention that Harry was sure that if it ever came down to choosing between keeping her vow to him and Draco, Narcissa would choose her son. His own mother's sacrifice was all the evidence he needed to prove that a mother's love wasn't something to be dismissed lightly.

There _were_ written magical contracts that he could make for Narcissa to sign, but those had the opposite problem of an Unbreakable Vow. They could be as long as you pleased, but they didn't have the force required because it wouldn't be enforced by her own magic. Violating them caused inconveniences at best and there was always the possibility of loopholes being found.

The Goblet of Fire was an anomaly, but one that wasn't relevant since it couldn't be used here.

Harry honestly felt that magically compelled loyalty would eventually end up causing more problems than it solved.

"No, I don't want that." He said with a wave of his hand.

"What kind of assurance do you want then?" Narcissa asked stiffly.

Harry stared at her silently for a few seconds and then walked around the chair she was sitting on and placed his hands on her shoulders.

Narcissa went as stiff as a statue, sweat beading on her forehead. The palpable pressure of his magic that she had been feeling the whole time increased.

Harry ignored her reaction and extended his magic into her guarded aura. She was much too tense to be manipulated, but he could still get a clear sense of her feelings and motivations.

"A better questions is why you would come to me for help. Surely you know some people that would be willing to help you out?"

"Under different circumstances, there may have been, but after the show of power you put on, they will fear to be associated with me or Draco." That much was true. The Parkinsons were really the only family she could have trusted to help her, but they had nervously shuffled her out the door when she had gone to talk to them.

The only other families that would have both the funds and inclination to help her were Avery and Nott, but those were not good people for a vulnerable woman to go asking for help. Disgusting old lechers the both of them, and their progeny was no better. They wouldn't need her help navigating the social waters they were in. If she asked them for help, she would end up being someone's mistress.

Harry hummed thoughtfully as he examined the impressions he got along with her stoic answer. The hurt feelings of a betrayed friend, fear, revulsion. The truth was clearly more complicated than her words indicated, it was more than just fear of him that was preventing her from asking someone else. He was just the least terrible option.

"Not even Crabbe and Goyle?" He asked curiously. The way that the two apes followed Draco around made him think that both families were beholden to the Malfoys somehow.

"They worked for Lucius and won't have the means to support us." Narcissa pointedly didn't mention that some of the work that they did for Lucius had been of the illegal variety. She didn't know what exactly and had never tried to find out since her duty was to present an image of squeaky clean respectability at all times, but she was almost sure that it wasn't legal. Crabbe and Goyle would soon encounter financial problems of their own without their patron.

 _Truth, but cast in shadow._ Harry discerned. Narcissa was already lying with the truth.

"Why not get a job? That's generally what people do when they need money."

Narcissa briefly clenched her fists before carefully relaxing them. "I don't have any skills that would allow me to find employment and fear of you would again work against me. It could be months before I find someone willing to employ me and we don't have that long, I need to pay for Draco's Hogwarts tuition in just under two weeks and our food supply would run out even sooner."

Harry smiled humorlessly. There was a ring of truth to her words, though the indignation he was sensing also indicated that she thought working for a living to be beneath her. The second part was entirely true at least.

"Why should I care about Draco's education? Sometimes when I look at his face all I can think of is how much I'd like to sharpen my knife on his ribs." She stiffened beneath him, aura full of fear and protective anger for her son. It was brought under control swiftly, but she had been ready to fight for a moment there.

"Please, he's just a boy." Narcissa pleaded. "My only child."

Grief, old and bitter and full of longing hung on the edge of his perception. A sense of loss for what could have been.

Harry frowned in thought. Narcissa would have had Draco when she was twenty-five or so if his calculations were correct, rather late into her marriage since she had been wed at eighteen. Miscarriage or stillbirth? Or perhaps a baby that had been discarded for not being magical enough? A prissy pureblood like her would likely consider that worse than a stillbirth. It was the only reason he could think of for what he was sensing. Didn't matter he supposed, but it would make Narcissa all the more resolute in looking after her son. All the more dangerous.

"That he's your only child means nothing to me. I won't help educate a future enemy, I prefer them stupid you see." He quipped, gripped by a moment of dark humor.

"Please, I'll do anything." She begged.

Now there was the first bit of absolute truth he'd heard from her so far. She may not _want_ to do anything, but she would. That was dangerous.

"Can you teach him to be less of a cunt?"

 _A flash of anger shining through the desperation at the insult to her son. Strong doubt rising to the surface. A sense of determination in the face of the hopeless._

"I can." Narcissa said firmly.

A lie. She didn't believe it. She would try, but she didn't expect to succeed, Draco being too old and too angry to let the death of his father go. She just felt that she had to say it in order to get the help she needed.

Harry took his hands off her shoulders and walked across the room to stare through one of the rare windows of Grimmauld place.

"I won't cast you out of the family." He said after a couple of minutes of silence.

Narcissa nearly slumped with relief. That was a worst case scenario averted. "Thank you, my lord."

"But I'm not inclined to help you either. You came here asking for help, but the first thing you do is disrespect Kreacher, then you ply me with lies and half-truths. How am I supposed to trust you?"

Narcissa stiffened with fear. Had Potter somehow picked up on her omissions? _The hands on my shoulders, he must have done something. Some form of Legilimency? I didn't feel anything._

She couldn't let this happen. Even without being cast out of the Black family, her prospects were still grim and unlike Andromeda, she had no one to help her through it. No one that wouldn't squeeze every bit of use they could out of her at any rate, and they would still expect her to be thankful for it and compensate them ten times over once Draco came of age.

"I apologise unreservedly for my treatment of your servant, my lord." She said formally, standing up.

"I wasn't the one you were rude to though." Harry pointed out, turning around to face her. "Kreacher."

The old house elf appeared instantly. "Master?"

"Narcissa here has something to say to you."

Narcissa kept the disdain off her face as the Black elf looked at her, clearly puzzled. How the mighty have fallen when a pureblood had to apologise to a house elf of all things, but needs must.

"Kreacher, I was rude to you earlier and you did nothing to deserve it." She said with as much sincerity as she could muster. "Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

Kreacher blinked in shock at hearing those words and looked towards his master for direction, but Harry was looking elsewhere. He would need to figure this one out by himself.

"Kreacher will forgive Mistress Narcissa." He said slowly. She had never been nice to him, but she had never been cruel either. Kreacher had honestly only registered the rudeness because the master had specifically directed him to report any, otherwise it would have gone unremarked. A house elf getting any respect was still something of a foreign concept to him despite both Regulus and Harry giving it to him.

"That will be all." Harry said with a nod and the elf popped away, then he turned back to his guest. "Nice apology, if I hadn't known better I would have thought it was actually sincere."

"I am...unused to apologising." Narcissa said.

"Especially to a house elf, huh?"

The memory of the broken thing left behind after Draco had vented his anger on it flashed through her mind.

Dirty laundry was piling up in Malfoy Manor with no house elf to clean it. Dust and dirt was starting to become visible and magical pests would show up soon. Perhaps worst of all, there was nobody to cook the meals and neither she nor Draco had any skill in the kitchen. The quality of their diet had taken a sharp dive lately.

She had thought about requesting the funds to buy a new elf or asking if Potter would loan them the services of his own, but that might be problematic now.

"I don't think anyone is used to apologising to a house elf." She said, forcibly keeping the sense of humiliation at being forced to do so out of her tone.

"A warning sign if ever there was one." Harry muttered under his breath.

Narcissa couldn't hear what he said and worried that it was something negative, so she closed the distance between them and lightly placed her hands on his chest.

"Is there nothing I could do to persuade you to help me?" She asked, biting her lip. She had hoped to avoid this, but it wasn't looking likely.

 _I can do this. It's just like any other lover I took over the years_. She told herself. The sex between her and Lucius had always been a bit...perfunctionary, and had dropped off greatly after Draco's birth. They had both taken the occasional lover to satisfy their respective itches, only really having sex with each other when they were both in the mood at the same time, which was rare to say the least. It was a fairly common practice among the pureblood elite as a way to keep marriages happy, or at least content.

Potter was just the way she liked them, young and handsome. Certainly vastly better than the leering old men whose bed she might end up warming if he turned her away. The way his gaze darkened with interest boded well. Something was finally going right. He might be powerful, but he was still a young man with a young man's weaknesses.

"You're playing a dangerous game." Harry warned. "If we do this you'll never be the same again."

There was no denying that Adrastia's suggestion to use the Joining and literally fuck some loyalty into Narcissa held a certain visceral appeal, but he had decided not to do it. Not because he was such an exemplar of virtue that he would shy away from using such a technique on an enemy(and Narcissa was definitely an enemy right now), but because he hadn't wanted to order her to sleep with him. Now that she was offering though...

Narcissa smiled for the first time since she'd arrived, thinking his words to be just the boasting of a boy still full of himself. He would find her harder to impress than whatever lowborn sluts he'd been bedding in Hogwarts.

"Well I could hardly walk away without seeing if that was true..."

XXXXX

As her back arched and she cried out her first orgasm, Narcissa briefly considered that she had badly underestimated Potter.

He had led her to the master bedroom, told her to strip and lie down on the bed. That had been the first clue that she wouldn't be taking control like she'd expected.

After she had done so, he had surprised her by going for her groin with his mouth. She'd never met a man that actually seemed to _like_ doing that before. Lucius certainly hadn't and the other men she'd taken to bed had to be ordered to do it.

She wasn't sure if it was experience or eagerness, but it certainly felt better than it had on those occasions.

There was barely any time to get her wits about her again when he pulled himself above her and smashed his lips against hers, shoving his tongue into her mouth and making her taste herself. Narcissa was a bit repulsed by that, but in no position to fight it off as he grabbed her wrists with one hand and pinned them above her head. His other went between them as he lined his member up with her opening.

Narcissa wanted to protest this treatment, but all that escaped her mouth was a ragged gasp as she felt him sliding into her. He was much bigger than she expected, but that barely registered over the sheer volume of sensation that roared through her body. If she hadn't just climaxed, she was sure that would have done it. As it was, the overstimulation left her barely able to think.

Now inside her, he grabbed one wrist in each hand and pinned them to the sides of her head. Completely in control, he began a steady thrusting rhytm that robbed Narcissa of her breath and left her whimpering with every motion. When he pushed all the way in, it was too much and she was too full, but when he pulled out, she was instantly empty and bereft and wanted it back. She'd never imagined sex could be like this.

Harry himself was focused more on her soul than on her body. The licking he'd given her was as much to loosen her up as it was to apply a couple of spells. Share Sensation and Amplify Sensation. Silly woman thought she was experienced when she barely knew the first thing about sex. He would take a lot of satisfaction in shattering her delusions.

Narcissa screamed out another orgasm and Harry delved deep into her soul. And what an unpleasant soul it was; petty, vindictive, bigoted, arrogant. But there were bright spots; the love she had for her son and a core of inner strength that stemmed from it.

That wasn't what interested him though, he couldn't use any of that.

 _A sense of pleasure, a desire for more. A base, primal affection for the one who'd made her feel good, who had pushed away the grief of a slain mate._ Ah, there it was. Harry seized on those nebulous feelings and fed them, diluting the resentment she also bore for him.

Narcissa caught her breath and looked at him with bleary eyes that got clearer by the moment. Walls were rebuilt and Harry lost access to her innermost self, but what was done was done.

He saw her open her mouth with intent to speak and thrust again, turning it into another cry of pleasure. She writhed uselessly in his arms as he restarted his motions, her legs feebly clutching at his waist.

Having not had an orgasm of his own yet, he climaxed quickly and discharged into her. The spells he'd cast made sure that his pleasure triggered hers again.

 _Seed rushing into womb, a burst of fulfillment, warmth spreading through body and soul._ Harry seized on this too and encouraged it, making her want it again.

Narcissa panted for breath, her face plastered with sweat and eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. She'd never been so thoroughly fucked in her life. Her whole body was tingling and her mind was still fuzzy.

"Turn around." Harry ordered.

"What?" She asked, frowning in confusion. Why would she turn around?

He apparently wasn't willing to wait for her to figure it out and rolled her over himself, then he pulled her hips up and positioned her on wobbly knees. She felt a familiar thickness prodding at her entrance again.

"No." She moaned in protest. Her whole pelvis seemed to be on fire with sensation and she was far too tired to take any more.

But he didn't listen and sheathed himself in her again.

Narcissa was too tired to cry out anymore. All she could do was let out small moans with every thrust and let him do whatever he wanted. He clearly knew what he was doing anyway.

With both of them having climaxed recently, the next one was a ways off, but Harry was content to take his time. Narcissa was too tired to do anything but take it and take it she would.

XXXXX

Once again dressed, Harry stared at the sweaty, panting woman on the bed and considered what he'd just done.

He had just taken the first step towards making Narcissa a different woman, by means of directly influencing her soul.

Joining with her had been...strange. Different from anyone else he'd ever done it with.

A lifetime of being spoonfed pureblood dogma had made Narcissa's character incompatible with his own. Everyone saw life through the lens of their own subjective point of view and generally found those with opposing views to be infuriating. Harry's cynical contempt for witches and wizards who squandered their gifts was never going to mesh with Narcissa's sense of entitlement based on heritage. It wasn't anything so simple as a specific point of contention even, just a general incompatibility.

No wonder Adrastia did this all the time. Fucking Narcissa into submission had been a huge rush. The feeling of her surrendering to his desires in both body and soul was indescribable.

"My lord?"

Harry snapped out of his thoughts and looked towards Narcissa, now recovered somewhat though still looking tired and flushed. "Yes?"

"Was I persuasive enough?" She asked, biting her lip.

Oh right, the money issue. "I'll arange for Draco's tuition to be paid and set up a stipend for you today." He fully expected Malfoy Junior to be a problem in the future, but he would just have to deal with that when it became an issue.

"Thank you, my lord." Narcissa smiled in relief and then became nervous again. "What will my duties be?"

"While I do need a social secretary, you won't be doing anything for now. I will expect you to show up if I call, but I'm not planning to do anything that needs your input until after the summer."

Narcissa understood that if she was called before the end of the summer it would be for sex and nothing more. Well, that was fine. He was an exceptional lover, by far the best she'd ever had, so it wouldn't be an onerous or repulsive task. She had been prepared to endure worse for her son.

"I understand." She said with a nod.

"Good, now if that's all...?"

"There is _one_ more thing." She said nervously.

"What kind of thing?" Harry said neutrally.

"Could I borrow enough gold to buy a house elf? We would of course repay you as soon as we could."

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I would think the Malfoys would have a house elf of their own."

Narcissa clutched at the sheets. She wanted to lie but feared that he would know. Better to just get it over with. "Draco killed it after...after you killed Lucius. He was in a rage and took it out on our elf."

"I see." Harry said with no expression on his face. "And you think I should subject another house elf to that?"

"No, it's just that..." Narcissa trailed off, lowering her eyes to the floor. "We need help. We don't know how to maintain a home or cook for ourselves."

Harry snorted in amusement. Aristocrats were the same everywhere it seemed, useless without their servants. Not that he had any room to talk, the best he could do was spaghetti and tomato sauce. Premade tomato sauce.

That gave him an idea actually. "Go clean yourself up, I need to go get something."

Narcissa was confused but did as he said, taking a quick bath to wash off the sweat and other bodily fluids.

By the time she was done, Harry had returned and was waiting for her with an odd yellow-black book in his hands.

"Here." He said and gave it to her.

"Cooking Basics for Dummies." She read, an angry flush coming to her face. She tried to keep her tone neutral, but some anger leaked into it nonetheless. "Is this supposed to be a joke...my lord?"

"This is supposed to help you learn how to cook for yourself." Harry said mildly, having expected this reaction from the spoiled woman. "The book wasn't written with a magical home in mind, but I'm sure you'll be able to adapt. You can use it or not, but either way I am not going to expose another house elf to Draco's hissy fits."

Narcissa heard the warning in the words and knew that her new benefactor was at the end of his patience. She didn't understand why he cared so much about house elves, but she didn't need to in order to realise that another peep of protest might see her tenuous good fortune evaporate.

XXXXX

"So how did it go?" Draco sneered resentfully when his mother made it home.

"It went well." Narcissa answered primly. "You will be able to go back to Hogwarts and we will have a stipend to pay for our expenses."

"And what did Potter want in exchange?" Draco sneered again. The mere thought of going to his nemesis for help made his blood boil, but his mother had been clear about how little choice there was. It still made him want to explode in rage, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

"I will organise his social commitments for him after the summer."

"That's all?" Draco asked skeptically and the noticed the book in her hands. "What's that?"

"It's a muggle cookbook." Narcissa said in resignation. "He was unwilling to allow us to buy another house elf."

"He expects us to eat like _muggles_?!" Infuriated, he tore the book from his mother's hands. The title did not improve his temper and he hurled it across the room. "FOR DUMMIES?! I'LL KILL HIM!"

"Draco!" Narcissa snapped sharply, breaking her son out of his rage. "You will do nothing! I was barely able to persuade him to help us at all. I will not have you ruining it all now."

Draco stared at his mother for a long few seconds before his face paled. "You're fucking him. You're fucking _Potter_."

Narcissa straightened her spine at her son's horrified whisper and answered with the dignity that had been drilled into her throughout her childhood. "I did what I had to."

"He killed _Father_!" Draco screeched, skin tone reverting back to crimson. "He killed Father and you're fucking him!"

"I'm doing it for you!" She yelled back, her voice breaking. She took a deep breath to calm down before continuing. "Draco, don't read too much into this. There was never much hope that I would be able to avoid doing something distasteful to get us out of this mess and this is quite tame compared to my other options. Lucius...Lucius did not have the kind of friends that you can rely on if you get in trouble. Lord Potter is at least fair-minded enough that he didn't use me and then send me away with nothing to show for it."

Draco stomped away with a strangled scream of frustrated rage, eyes burning with tears at what his mother had been reduced to doing. He'd never imagined that it was possible to hate someone as much as he hated Potter right now, he was so angry he could barely breathe. He would get his revenge one day. Potter would regret everything he'd ever done to House Malfoy.

XXXXX

Ravens and crows had become a common sight around Potter Manor. They were smart birds and had quickly cottoned on to the fact that one of their own lived here in a vast nest that was full of food and offered plenty of shelter.

Harry did nothing to discourage this, rather enjoying the hundreds of cawing and croaking black birds that now sat on the manor and the trees around it at all times. He knew that Penny, Sirius and Fleur thought it was creepy, but he and Luna liked it.

At the moment, Harry was sitting alone on a thick three branch in the woods around his home, surrounded by the corvids. He had with him a magically expanded bag full of nuts that he was feeding to the birds as he thought about the most recent dilemma he was in.

This thing with Narcissa was strange. She was a beautiful woman to be sure, but he was conflicted about sleeping with her again.

She was an enemy, no debate at all on that. She wouldn't hesitate to stick a knife in his ribs if she thought it would benefit her, but she needed him. Fucking her appealed more for the base satisfaction of dominating an enemy than for carnal pleasure.

He wasn't sure what to feel about that. Yes, he'd discovered within himself an enjoyment of being dominant during sex, but this was something else.

He scratched at both sides of his chest, where _ArHain_ and _Ca'Daith_ were carved and grimaced. Light and Dark, Void and Stars. Two opposing forces, both beyond human understanding and both linked to runes that affected his mind. If he could, he would travel back in time and knock his younger self's teeth out. He'd been such an idiot, fooling around with things he barely understood. He still wouldn't undo it if given the choice, because the benefits really were too good for that, but he could've wished for it to be done better.

Dark muted emotions and Light magnified them. In theory, they should cancel out. In practice, it meant that the more low key ones were muted and the more impulsive ones magnified, the strength of each effect being dependent on the day-night cycle. Just as the Joining influenced others, the changes he had made to his own soul influenced him. There was no escaping it.

Harry was consciously aware of the fact that he was slipping further and further away from 'socially acceptable', but that didn't help him do anything about it. He didn't actually feel that there was anything wrong with that, which was of course the entire fucking problem. He couldn't muster any concern over it _._

He still wasn't in danger of becoming the Dark Lord that Dumbledore was so worried about, but he was having trouble seeing the problem in killing an enemy and fucking his wife. Lucius had tried to kill him and Narcissa had been the one to initiate things, so where was the problem? Besides, she would benefit from it too and she'd probably be a better person at the end of it. At the moment, Narcissa was a bit of a cunt really.

Sirius wouldn't like it, but Sirius wasn't going to be told. He was more careful about letting his godfather in on things these days, he'd already proven himself a security leak after all.

Penny wouldn't like it either...probably. She was a nice girl, but perhaps a bit sheltered. She wouldn't be told what he was doing either.

Luna wouldn't care, her own moral compass was in its own way just as compromised as his own.

Fleur he wasn't sure about, he still didn't have a full grasp on the veela's mindset. He suspected that she wouldn't bat an eyelash at learning that he was using sex as a tool of dominance but he could be wrong.

Dora...Dora would be furious. But Dora wasn't around anymore and he had no reason to appease her.

The bottom line was that he had enjoyed it and he knew that Narcissa had enjoyed it. He needed a social secretary and Narcissa needed work. He needed her loyal and this was a good way making her loyal.

Sure, it was unethical, but what was ethics anyway? Little more than popular opinion and he always disdained that.

"What do you guys think? Is it really so terrible that I'm using Soul Magic on an altogether unpleasant woman to make something better and more useful out of her?" He asked the birds.

They all looked at him with beady black eyes and cocked heads. They understood that the man-raven was asking about a female and making her better and they knew of magic, but they didn't understand the question. At length they decided that making a female better was always good and said so.

Harry rolled his eyes at their response. _Make female better._ Was hardly the answer to his problem, but he supposed asking a bunch of birds for advice was never going to amount to much.

The raven Animagus huffed irritably. He was tired of thinking about this. _To Hell with it, I've already fucked her once so I might as well do it all the way to the end. She was the one who initiated it anyway._

XXXXX

The next few weeks passed with much less of note happening.

The general public still continued to shuffle out of the way fearfully whenever Harry appeared, but nothing more than that.

The general public was also strangely let down by the lack of follow-up to his killing of Lucius Malfoy. People had for some reason expected him to go on some sort of crusade against purebloods or to attempt taking over the Ministry or something similarly flashy and were hit with the most bizarre sense of wasted build-up at the lack of action.

This was unknown to Harry, who busied himself with his own matters and firmly ignored the world outside of his interests. He'd have to deal with it when the summer was over, but for now he was going to do his own thing.

He met with Narcissa four more times at Grimmauld Place, screwing her silly at each occasion and feeding her desire and subservience.

He didn't say anything about this to the other occupants of Potter Manor, only telling them that he was going somewhere on his own. Since this was hardly out of the ordinary, they didn't question it. They knew that he had given Narcissa a job and that she would take over all the social aspects from Penny after the summer, but that was all they knew.

Fleur had settled into well and made fast friends with everyone. Luna and even Penny joined in on her afternoon exercise sessions and she went out with them sometimes. This was all to the good for Harry as it gave him the solitude he needed.

The days passed quickly and soon it was time to leave for their vacation.

XXXXX

"Everyone ready to go?" Harry called out, looking at the congregation of people gathered on his front lawn.

He got a murmur of affirmation back from them. They were all feeling a bit spooked by the multitude of black birds peering at them from everywhere. Heh, scaredy cats.

"Alright, grab hold of the rope and we'll be off." He said clearly, looking them over while he waited for them to follow his instructions.

Fourteen people. That was actually a number that had startled Harry a bit when they had all showed up at his manor today. He'd never really counted how many people were coming.

The five actual residents of Potter Manor, the four girls from Arundel plus one boyfriend, Penny's parents and one Metamorphmagus.

The last person was a youngish dark haired woman with rosy cheeks who was here at the invitation of his godfather.

Sirius had gone to the Holyhead Harpies game, but there had been no invitations to any orgies. He had however somehow managed to make a girlfriend out of Hestia Jones, the cousin to the Harpies' captain, Gwenog Jones. Harry had been leery of including Sirius newest temporary bedwarmer in on their vacation, but that was just his paranoia at work.

After all, what were the odds that such a randomly acquired girlfriend was a spy for someone?

XXXXX

Dumbledore let out a violent sneeze and used quick spell to get rid of the snot spray on his beard.

He looked back towards the copy of _Witch Weekly_ he had in front of him and smiled slightly. The report about Sirius Black being seen in the company of Hestia Jones was a surprising bit of good fortune for the old wizard. He had long since marked Hestia as a candidate for the Order of the Phoenix and had kept in touch with her through various means. He would be able to glean a thing or two about Harry Potter through her.

His original plan of using Nymphadora Tonks for the purpose would have given better information, but was also much more risky. He didn't even think they were still together given Harry's interactions with Fleur Delacour. For all he knew, Harry had turned her against him.

He believed Harry when he said that he had no intention of becoming a Dark Lord, but one could never fully account for the twists of life. An eye had to be kept on the boy.

The news he'd received about Draco Malfoy's Hogwarts tuition being paid out of the Potter vault was very encouraging at least. Harry had all the power in the world to ruin both Draco and Narcissa but he seemed to be helping them. An evil man wouldn't do that. An evil man wouldn't take responsibility for taking away his schoolyard rival's father and provider.

Perhaps he was worrying needlessly. Harry clearly still had good in him even though he hid it under a prickly attitude.

XXXXX

Narcissa brushed her hair in preparation for bed. Harry was leaving Britain today, not to return until the end of summer.

She found herself feeling slightly upset about that. She had offered her body to him as a last resort, but it was turning out to be unexpectedly enjoyable. There was a little guilt involved since this _was_ Lucius' killer after all, but Lucius was gone and she had to look after the living, meaning herself and Draco.

Draco...he was not handling this situation well. All of her attempts to calm him down were for naught. She hoped he wouldn't do anything foolish. She understood why he was so angry, any boy would be when seeing his father killed and having his mother go to that same killer for help, but he needed to realise that the world was what it was. Harry was being incredibly generous to them.

He still refused to loan them the gold to buy a house elf until he was utterly certain that it wouldn't be harmed, but he had agreed to allow his house elves to come over and help her once Draco was at Hogwarts. Narcissa intended to treat the elves respectfully, not because she actually respected them, but because she knew that they would report everything back to Harry. She was tired of leafing through that insultingly titled muggle cookbook and trying to figure out how to make things and doing laundry and cleaning the huge manor.

She put down the brush and crawled into her now empty marital bed. She no longer had nightmares about blond hair being consumed by fire, but more pleasant dreams of black hair over intense emerald eyes.

XXXXX

In a distant corner of Albania the shade of Lord Voldemort still hid.

He had little concept of time in his wraith form and his thoughts were not fully coherent either, but some things he did know. He knew that he desperately did not want to fade into nothing. And he knew that he could not afford to be discovered.

When he could possess an animal, some lucidity returned, but he shied away from approaching any witches or wizards. He had fallen into Dumbledore's trap with the Philosopher's Stone and unwittingly exposed himself to his old adversary. Now he 'lived' in a state of dire fear, knowing that his worst enemy was aware of his continued existence.

His followers had abandoned him and he was all but helpless. Only obscurity and his Horcruxes now protected him from destruction. If some hapless fool wandered too close and could be convinced to help him, then he could have made a play to return to physicallity, but he dared not seek anyone out.

The Magical Balkans made for a good place to hide because there was no magical government keeping too close an eye on things, but someone would inevitably come snooping around if he made too much noise.

It was galling that he was forced to hide, but he consoled himself with the thought that he was Lord Voldemort. He was immortal. One day he would return and then the world would tremble before his might.

Even if it took years or decades.


	26. Chapter 26

**UPDATEISIMMINENT: dude...**

 **Shoutouts to Joe Lawyer for expert beta-ing xD.**

XXXXX

Black Island was of an approximately circular shape, perhaps about ten square kilometers in size with thick vegetation and a rocky peak in the middle. Fine golden sand covered much of its edges and created inviting looking beaches that led into clear blue waters. The ocean floor around the island was mostly featureless sand, but it did have some interesting coral reef formations on one side. The very essence of a tropical paradise.

The party arrived on in various states of discomfort. Some merely stumbled, others faceplanted into the ground and Mrs. Clearwater had the unfortunate distinction of being the only one to vomit due to her predilection for motion sickness. Penny had anticipated her mother having problems and was able to support her while she voided her stomach.

"Well that sucked." Harry grumbled. He'd never taken such a long distance Portkey before and the sensation was a lot more unpleasant than he'd expected it to be.

"Tell me about it." Sirius groaned as he picked himself up, helping his current girlfriend do the same.

"Amateur." Tonks sniffed, having stayed on her feet. Yes, she was clumsy, but only when she didn't pay attention to her shapeshifting, otherwise she was quite steady.

"I thought it was fun." Luna said happily, being perhaps the only person alive that was able to come out of a long distance Portkey transport with a squeal and a spin.

"I'm glad someone thought so." Harry replied wryly. He wasn't even surprised by Luna's reaction.

Sirius decided that there had been enough talk about the Portkey and stepped in front of the crowd and gestured grandly. "Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present Black Island!"

Almost everyone made noises of appreciation at the postcard-like scenery.

Harry grimaced at the overly bright sunshine beating down on them. "Damn it's hot."

Most of the females look at him as if he was insane.

"You have your very own tropical island and you're complaining about the temperature?!" Bryanna demanded.

Harry grinned unrepentantly. "It's the ultimate rich people problem, I know, but I can't help it if I like cold weather. And I'll miss my ravens too."

"You are mad." Fleur declared. She was more than happy to be away from Britain and its dreary weather. She wouldn't miss the creepy birds that Harry was so fond of either, damned raven Animagus.

Sirius chuckled. "Come on, let's get settled in. I think Mrs. Clearwater could use a small rest to recover from the Portkey."

"Still better than spending six hours on an airplane." The aforementioned woman joked weakly despite her greenish complexion.

"Dibs on the master bedroom." Harry declared as they started walking towards the mansion that the Blacks had built here centuries ago.

"Oh, come on!" Sirius protested with a canine sounding whine. "Why do you always get the master bedroom?"

"Several reasons, but the most important one is that I'm just more amazing than you." Harry explained patiently.

"That is just not true!" Sirius objected. "I was amazing before you were even born."

"That's only because I wasn't around yet." Harry countered.

Everyone else just watched on with a smile as the argument on who was more amazing continued.

XXXXX

The mansion was quite the fancy place, situated a small distance inland on a low cliff that overlooked the the most expansive beach on the island. Surprisingly, it was not gloomy at all. It seemed even the Black family didn't want to ruin their private vacation resort with depressing decor.

It took the better part of an hour to get everyone settled in their chosen rooms. Teeny and Kreacher had popped along right after them and been eagerly getting everything in order, though the latter showed markedly less visible enthusiasm.

Harry demonstrated the typically male economy of time management by simply dumping everything he didn't need into the master bedroom and declaring himself settled. He quickly realized that the women would be a while and decided to take a peek at the island's wards, not wanting to have them fail at the worst possible moment.

The wardstone was easy to find and revealed that the wards were in good shape, if somewhat basic. They were nothing more than a collection of secrecy enchantments, with a powerful Uplottable Charm as the centerfold. Good as long as you weren't attacked, but Harry supposed that the Blacks had meant this place as a secret refuge more than as a fortress, so that was understandable. They didn't even seem to have used it much if the vines creeping up on the mansion was any clue. It would probably have been badly overgrown if not for the domestic spells keeping it safe. It was a good enough ward scheme for now, although he would improve it if he ever ended up using this place more.

Once they were done settling in, those of them that wanted to go for a swim right away put on swimming clothes and made for the beach. This group consisted entirely of the younger crowd, though Penny had to be shooed away by her parents and told to enjoy herself while they took a rest to recover from the Portkey journey.

Once they arrived at the beach, they saw that the two elves had already set up beach chairs and umbrellas. Harry turned towards his ex-girlfriend with a smirk and took an item out of his omnipresent Bag of Holding.

"Here, I got you a special swimsuit." He said, offering her the item.

Puzzled since she was already wearing a bikini, Tonks took the item and held it out in front of her. It was a white leotard with purple accents at the sides, but it didn't feel like a normal swimsuit. "Is this...spandex?"

"Sure is, She-Hulk." Harry snickered, joined by giggles from Penny, Fleur and Luna who were also in on the joke.

The Metamorphmagus groaned loudly and threw it back at him with a huff, trying not to let her amusement show.

"She-Hulk?" Tiana asked, frowning in confusion. The other three girls and Isabel's boyfriend also looked interested.

"The She-Hulk is a well known comic book superhero that gets really big and strong when she gets angry, so she needs to wear a stretchy spandex uniform." Penny explained.

Harry took over the story at that point, grinning widely at the stone-faced Metamorphmagus.

"You see, Dora here showed up at the manor about a month ago and we got into a bit of a play fight. She decided to cheat with her Metamorph powers and gave herself huge muscles. Her clothes weren't up to the task of containing her new bulk and promptly ripped at the seams. Thus, She-Hulk." Harry finished as if she hadn't spoken.

"Oh." They said in realization and started snickering.

"That sounds useful." Fleur mused. "It would keep 'Arry from taking control every time if I could do zat."

"He does that to you too, does he?" Bryanna asked wryly, Tiana nodding along. "And here I thought a veela might be able to keep him in line."

" _Non_ , 'e always wants to be in charge." Fleur huffed playfully. It wasn't that big of a deal really, but it went against her insticts and she would've liked to be in control more often.

 _You try backing down with these runes carved in your back._ Harry thought but didn't say. The Norse runes that he'd carved first were not as problematic as the ones dealing with Light and Dark, but they carried their own problems. _Thurisaz_ and _Uruz_ especially, what with their emphasis on strength, force, aggression and control, both sexual and otherwise.

"You better get used to it," Tonks chimed in, gleefully taking the opportunity to talk about Harry as if he wasn't there. "Harry is very sensitive about his masculinity. You should have seen his face when I suggested growing a cock."

"Not everyone can stretch their arsehole on command, Dora." Harry said indignantly and somewhat hypocritically. Septima couldn't do that either after all and he'd managed to anal her just fine.

"I would've stretched it for you." Tonks leered back at him.

"I'll keep it as it is, thank you very much." He retorted dryly. Pegging was not his cup of tea.

"Wouldn't your poo just slide out of you if your bum was stretched?" Luna asked pensively.

The question killed the mood so abruptly that it almost gave everyone whiplash.

"Right...I'm going to go for a swim." Harry announced, being the most experienced in pushing past the Luna Silences(™).

"Me too!" Luna said cheerfully, taking off the bikini she was wearing and running at the water completely naked. "Wheeeee."

They all stared after her for a moment and then Harry started chuckling. The chuckle turned into a laugh as he realised that he should have seen this coming. He'd never explained to Luna that you were supposed to keep your swimsuit _on_.

"She 'as a point." Fleur said with a nod and also took off her silver bikini, following her fellow blonde into the water. She had worn a swimsuit for the second task, but that was more at the instruction of Madam Maxime than her own preference, though she had to admit that would have been uncomfortable being stared at by all those stupid English. There was no sense in staying modest here though.

Harry smiled bemusedly and followed after them.

"Hey, Bry?" Tiana asked.

"Yeah?"

"Are you feeling overdressed all of a sudden?"

"Kind of."

With a firm nod to each other, they also ditched their bathing suits and ran to join the others in the water.

Tonks felt a bit silly staying dressed now, but she wasn't going to give in to peer pressure that easily.

Penny merely sighed and went for one of the beach chairs. The weather was really quite fantastic and she had a new book that she'd been meaning to read.

Behind them Jade, Isabel and Isabel's boyfriend Paul had stayed quiet and simply listened, thinking thoughts such as 'what the Hell is up with this conversation?'. Once the swimsuits started coming off though, Paul found his resistance to Fleur's Allure failing him and his eyes turned glassy.

A smack across the head brought him back to reality and face to face with the glaring eyes of his girlfriend.

"Sorry." He muttered, realising that this vacation was going to be equal parts wonderful and terrible.

XXXXX

"Why didn't you take your shorts off before coming into the water, Harry?" Luna inquired innocently

"They're not shorts, they're swimming trunks." Harry explained dryly. "And what you were wearing was a swimsuit bikini, which is generally designed to be worn while swimming."

"Oh, I thought it was just customary to walk towards the beach in colorful underwear." Luna said and then frowned in puzzlement. "Why would you wear specially designed swimming clothes to the beach if you bathe naked?"

"Modesty." Bryanna chimed in as the rest of the girls arrived.

"A silly 'uman concept." Fleur added.

"It is quite silly." Luna agreed, the notion that some body parts are private lost on her.

"Well if you don't care about being stared at..." Harry shrugged.

"You mean Paul?" Tiana asked, looking very amused. "Isabel has that poor bastard on a short leash, jealous sort that she is. They won't be sticking around for long...ah, they're already moving further down the beach."

"I was thinking of Sirius once he shows up actually." Harry said, watching as Isabel all but dragged her boyfriend away. That really was one poor bastard.

"Are you going to be jealous if he watches us, Harry?" Bryanna asked coyly, leaning forward a bit to display her breasts.

"I'm not really the jealous type." The unstable circumstances of his early years had quickly relieved him of any such problematic emotion.

"There's one surefire way to keep my cousin's eyes from wandering in this direction." Tonks said with a smirk. "Harry just has to get naked too and he'll be too scared of getting an eyefull of bollocks to look our way."

Seeing the expectant looks of the women who were expecting him to comply, Harry decided to turn things around on his ex-girlfriend. It wasn't that he had any great objection to being naked in the company of beautiful women, all of whom he was or had been intimate with to some degree, but he wasn't going to let Dora be the only one that was still dressed.

"I'll get naked if you do." He proposed. "Sirius probably wouldn't want to ogle his cousin either after all." He didn't really believe that, but it sounded reasonable.

Seeing the expectant looks turn towards her, Tonks huffed and reached back to untie her top. Apparently she would be giving in to peer pressure after all.

XXXXX

Fleur sighed contently where she was lying on a beach chair, nude except for a pair of dark sunglasses to block the glare of sunlight. There was a fruity cocktail and a plate of watermelon at her side just for her. Harry's elves were the best.

She'd left the water after the others had gotten the idea to use bubblehead charms and go diving. Swimming she was fine with, but no veela ever felt comfortable in deep waters.

The sound of chewing brought her attention to the left, where Tonks was demolishing a sandwich that she'd requested from Teeny. The Metamorphmagus had apparently missed lunch before their trip.

"You are going to 'ave tan lines eef you do not take zat off." Fleur commented, gesturing to the black bikini that the other woman was once again wearing.

Tonka stopped mid bite and then smirked back at her. Her skin darkened until she looked decidedly latina, albeit a pink-haired one.

"I wish I could do zat." Fleur groused enviously.

"I guess you'll just have to tan the hard way." Tonks snickered.

" _Non_ , veela do not tan." Fleur replied, resisting the urge to pout. There were plenty of advantages to being veela, but the permanent paleness was not one of them in her opinion.

"Really?" Tonks asked, eyebrows climbing in surprise. "I didn't know that."

"Eet eez not a very important detail." Fleur shrugged. Regular witches and wizards also took much longer to tan than their non-magical counterparts and didn't suffer from sunburns either. It was another one of those minor differences between them.

"Wait, if you can't tan, then why are you going nude?"

This time it was Fleur who smirked. "Why not?"

Tonks' eyes involuntarily dipped to the veela's impressive bust. Her breasts may not be anything extraordinary as far as size went, being an upper range B-cup, but they were very firm.

"Fair enough." She said and went back to her sandwich, ignoring the way her own breasts perked up slightly as if competing.

Fleur sipped at her cocktail and wondered what she could do about the slight tension that seemed to be in the air between them. She didn't want to be at odds with any of Harry's friends, ex-girlfriend or no.

"Did you really suggest growing a pénis to 'Arry?" She asked, hoping to start a conversation.

"Yeah." Tonks snickered. "I didn't think he'd go for it mind you, but it was funny seeing the look on his face."

"I can imagine." Fleur chuckled. "'Ave you ever done it before?"

"I tried it out of course, but only by myself." Tonks admitted.

"What was eet like?" The veela asked curiously. It wasn't every day that you could ask a question like that after all.

"Honestly? Being a girl is better. With all the fuss that men make about sex you'd think having a cock feels amazing, but it has nothing on girl bits."

"Maybe eet eez better with anuzzer." Fleur theorised.

"Maybe." Tonks agreed, though her tone was doubtful.

They continued chatting for a while longer, building a tentative friendship. The two women discovered an unexpected kinship with each other due to their respective natures as a veela and Metamorph. The benefits were different, but the downsides were surprisingly similar and they enjoyed trading stories about the cringe-worthy come-ons they'd had to put up with in the past.

XXXXX

As the day dragged on, the vacationers found themselves hit with a truly monstrous case of jet lag, or Portkey lag as the case may be. Black Island was six hours behind Britain and the sudden leap messed up their biorhythm severely.

Except for Harry and Fleur, whose magic was linked to the Sun. They felt slightly more tired by the unusually long day, but their bodies didn't demand sleep like the others'.

Harry had been intending to do some magic practice with Luna and Fleur in the evening, but had decided to postpone it seeing as he and Fleur were the only two awake. Instead of that, the two of them sat on the balcony attached to the master bedroom and watched the sunset. It was an impressive view.

"Zis eez a wonderful place, I may not want to leave after spending a month 'ere" Fleur said, feeling pleasantly lazy.

"Heh, I expect that I'll get bored before the week is out." Harry chuckled. "Nothing to do but swim, sleep and eat."

"You forgot ze sex." She pointed out.

"Ah yes, of course, the sex. How careless of me." He replied wryly. "I'd still get bored though, and if not bored then I'd get sick of this climate."

"'Ow you can dislike zis climate I will never understand." Fleur huffed.

"The same way that you can dislike the one in Scotland." Harry chuckled.

Fleur huffed again, utterly failing to understand the appeal of bleak, gloomy and altogether miserable weather. She could only be glad that veela couldn't pale anymore than they could tan, or else she would've been like a ghost after spending so long at Hogwarts.

"You seemed to be getting along with Dora today." Harry commented after a minute of silence.

"She eez a lovely person, I can see why you liked 'er so much." She said with a smile.

"That she is." He agreed. "What did you two talk about?"

"Girl zings." Fleur teased.

Harry snorted. "Things not meant for male ears I take it?"

" _Oui_ , eet eez a sacred covenant between women." She said haughtily.

"And here I was worried that you'd hate each other." He said wryly.

"I was worried she would 'ate' me too." Fleur admitted. "Women usually resent veela in such cases, even if ze relationship between zem was already over, but Nymphadora 'as 'ad to put up with similar problems in ze past."

Harry hadn't actually considered that, but it made sense now that he thought about it. He could easily imagine some insecure women getting angry at Fleur's literally magical beauty or Dora's shapeshifting ability because it was 'unfair'. As if the world owed them something just for existing.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence and watched as the red tinted Sun vanished behind the curve of the world.

Harry let out a massive yawn, suddenly having huge trouble keeping his eyes open. "I think it's time to get some sleep."

Fleur nodded, unable to reply over her own yawn.

XXXXX

Luna gradually came awake and noticed that it was still dark out. Well, she supposed that made sense since she had fallen asleep before sunset. Penny had explained the concept of jet lag yesterday.

It was still pretty silly to be waking up in the middle of the night though.

Having nothing better to do, Luna went to the bathroom and then cuddled right back into Harry. Cuddling was always nice and she would have to get used to the new time zone anyway.

She wasn't feeling sleepy anymore though, so she sank into a meditative Occlumency trance like Harry had taught her. The skill had come easily to her and she had little trouble keeping people out, even the nosy headmaster, though he probably hadn't been trying too hard.

As dawn approached, Luna found herself being a bit too excited to continue practicing. She knew Fleur's prefered method of starting the day and was eager to see it again. Heat pooled in her loins from the anticipation and she blinked slowly in thought.

Maybe it was time to move things forward again? Harry had been uncomfortable with her interest in sex and she had thought that she would need to wait until she was older for him to relax, but Fleur had proposed a different plan. She had said that Harry might be uncomfortable being watched, but he would be less reticent if she participated. That hadn't made a lot of sense to Luna, but she trusted the veela's expertise. Fleur had also pointed out that the promise she'd made to her father prevented her from interacting with Harry's penis, but not anything else.

Unlike Harry, Fleur had no issues with her age and had demonstrated quite thoroughly that a penis wasn't necessary to have fun.

Course of action determined, Luna settled in to wait, the heat between her legs staying at a low simmer.

The horizon began to brighten shortly afterwards and her bedmates began to rouse with it like a couple of roosters.

She saw Fleur open her eyes and smiled at her across Harry's chest. The veela returned the smile and slid down, grabbing the half-erect target of her attention.

Harry breathed deeply as the silver-blonde head began bobbing over his crotch.

Luna watched in fascination for a few moments as the male member disappeared into Fleur's mouth, wondering what it would be like to do it herself. Then she gave her head a slight shake. This was no time to be getting hypnotized by the beautiful act of fellatio.

She sat up, meeting Harry's awkward look with another smile and swung one leg over his head.

"Luna?" He questioned, grabbing hold of her hips to keep her from moving. "What are you doing?"

That was a silly question. She was quite obviously intending to sit on his face so that he could lick her vagina.

Still, it was possible, though unlikely, that he didn't know. "I want you to lick my vagina."

"BuUUUt!" He started to say only to trail off into a surprised hiss/yelp.

Luna looked back down to his midsection. Fleur's bobbing head naturally blocked most of her view, but she thought she could see the veela's hand firmly gripping his scrotum. She couldn't help giggling. Fleur had him literally by the balls.

Fleur lifted her eyes and smiled around the thing in her mouth. Luna was glad to have a friend like her. The veela had always encouraged her interest in sex instead of trying to tell her that she was too young.

With his protests firmly 'in hand', Luna was able to lower herself onto Harry's face with little resistance. He did nothing at first, but she soon felt the first tentative pass of his tongue. Just like Fleur had said would happen, he seemed to shrug and began licking in earnest.

Luna braced herself against his chest and let out a quiet sigh of pleasure as Harry plied his hard earned lingual abilities on her. The angle was a bit awkward, so it wasn't quite as good as the times when Fleur had done this to her, but it was still very nice and there was the added bonus of watching Fleur fellate him.

A minute or so later, Harry tensed and Luna watched her friend pump his penis while her mouth was clamped tightly around the crown, obviously working to milk as much sperm out of it as possible. It must have been quite a bit given how Fleur's throat was contracting.

The sight was a bit much for Luna in addition to the licking and she quickly climaxed, curling her fingers into Harry's rune scarred chest and gasping quietly for air.

Fleur rose into a sittting position, eyes closed and tongue moving across her mouth with rapturous look on her face. Her hand was still fondling Harry's member and her groin glistened with evidence of her arousal.

Luna was transfixed. The Allure was so much stronger now and she'd never felt it so keenly before. It wasn't the first time that she had watched Fleur give Harry a blowjob, but it was the first time that she had participated in any way. How she wished that she hadn't made that promise to her father. Waiting another year and a half before she could experience it fully seemed like an eternity right now.

The slight daze didn't vanish as Fleur positioned herself over Harry's member and sank down on it easily. Luna felt hands gently grip her face and she was pulled in for a kiss. The taste of Harry's sperm still lingered in Fleur's mouth and she found herself liking it. If only the greedy veela hadn't swallowed all of it already.

Harry's tongue started moving again and the fun continued.

XXXXX

"So, that happened." Harry said blandly a while later.

Fleur was one side of him and Luna on the other, both looking terribly pleased with themselves. He hadn't been intending to do anything sexual with Luna until she was sixteen, which was as much delay as he had expected her to tolerate, but the threat of having your nuts squeezed had a way of shifting a man's priorities. He wasn't so principled that he would risk calling Fleur's bluff on _that_.

"Eet did." The veela in question said with a decisive nod. "And eet will 'appen again."

"Is that so?" Harry challenged. He may have stayed still and let the two of them run the show this time, but that was only because he honestly had no idea how Luna would react if he pushed her off. And the grip on his nuts of course, can't forget that.

" _Oui_." Fleur said firmly, staring him in the eye. "Eet would be cruel to deny Luna now."

"Did my vagina taste bad, Harry?" Luna asked, big blue eyes wide and innocently curious. "I can change my diet if that's why you don't want to lick it."

Harry's face twisted into some indecipherable expression at the sheer inanity of the question paired with the innocent look of a five-year-old. He knew that he was a bare few months older than Luna, but he still wasn't too enthused about this. This would be so much easier if she didn't look so damn _innocent_ all the time.

"No, your vagina doesn't taste bad at all." He finally sighed.

"Then you'll lick it again?" She chirped happily.

"Are you sure you want that?" He asked lamely, already knowing the answer. "You're still so young..."

Fleur interrupted him with a snort. "As opposed to you, Elder Potter?"

"Don't poke holes into my hypocritical logic." Harry said sullenly, fully aware that he was losing this argument. "I'm at least artificially older."

"Honestly, 'Arry, eet eez just a little cunnilingus." Fleur said in exasperation, not understanding what the big deal was. It barely even counted as sex, being more in the realm of foreplay.

"I'll stay away from your penis until I'm sixteen." Luna promised. "But I really would like you to lick my vagina until then."

Harry wanted to slap a palm over his face, but the girls were in the way. He smacked his head against the headboard instead. Fleur was a terrible influence on a pubescent girl.

 _Come to think of it, I'm probably a terrible influence on a pubescent girl too._

"Fine." He grumbled, knowing with absolute certainty that the two of them would continue to pester him until he gave in. Not to mention that he'd already done it once, so it was a bit late to protest.

"Yay!" Luna cheered, planting a happy kiss on his lips and then another one on Fleur. "Now we can all have fun together."

Harry sighed and tried not to smile at his friend's obvious happiness. There was something seriously wrong with this situation, but there was no arguing with Luna's beaming expression. She wasn't the most expressive of people, usually just looking a bit dazed or quizzical, so this was especially noteworthy.

XXXXX

Life on Black Island settled into a sort of routine.

True to what Harry said to Fleur, he got bored of the routine within a week. The water was great and he decided that Potter Manor needed a pool, but he was still bored. There were three women to have sex with plus Luna, but he was still bored.

Harry had made a resolution to not focus on anything too serious during this vacation, but he still found himself sitting in his room and puzzling out a new spell. It wasn't an especially groundbreaking spell, but it was an interesting application of a modified compulsion charm.

A knock on his door nearly interrupted his spellcasting and he irritably called on the knocker to enter.

To his mild surprise, there wasn't just one knocker, but six of them; Tonks, Luna, Fleur as well as Bryanna and Tiana and even Sirius.

"Harry, you've been sulking in here all day. It's time to have some fun." Sirius declared.

"I am not sulking, I'm making a new spell." Harry said with dignity and continued before his godfather could retort. "And it's almost finished. Want to help me test it?"

"If it gets you out of this room." Sirius agreed.

"I need a female test subject though..." Harry said, peering at the gathered females in search of the best one. They were all in bikinis already so the view was exquisite. "She-Hulk, how about you?"

"Agree to have an unknown spell cast on me? No chance, I graduated from the Moody school of paranoia." The Metamorphmagus refused. "Also, if you're asking for a favor you may want to lay off the nicknames."

"Alright, fair enough." He nodded. "What about you, Bryanna?"

"Will it hurt?" The former Ravenclaw asked.

"You won't feel a thing." He promised.

"Okay, I guess." She agreed uncertainly.

"Please stand still." Harry requested and carefully crafted the spell. "Alright, here goes..."

True to his word, Bryanna felt nothing. Looking down at herself, she couldn't detect anything out of place or different.

"What was that supposed to do?" She asked, confused.

"Give it a little while to start working." Harry said uncertainly, unsure if he'd flubbed it.

They all waited, staring at the now embarrassed girl to see if anything would happen.

Fleur scrutinised the dark haired girl. She had always thought Bryanna was beautiful with her slight olive complexion, which was nicely on display today, especially over the expanse of her breasts.

Tiana checked out her best friend and occasional lover, but couldn't detect anything in particular. Her chest looked quite fabulous in that purple bikini though.

Sirius knew that he as a male had less staring privileges and tried to be more discreet, though his eyes slipped towards that fantastic cleavage quite often.

Tonks also stared and noticed that Bryanna was developing a very nice tan already. Her breasts also seemed unusually firm today and she slowly adjusted her own to match, though it still didn't feel quite right.

Luna stared unabashedly at the girl's breasts. "You have very nice breasts, did you do something different with them today?"

"No?" Bryanna answered uncertainly.

"Aha, it works!" Harry crowed in triumph.

"What works?" Sirius asked, tearing his eyes away from the nubile young boobflesh.

"My new spell, Captivating Cleavage." He explained.

"You made a spell specifically to draw attention to breasts?" Tonks asked, very amused. "That seems kind of redundant."

"It was more of a mental exercise in casting targeted compulsions." Harry explained, just a little bit defensively.

"Uh huh." She replied skeptically. "And you picked boobs at random?"

"Well no. See, it isn't like a regular compulsion charm, but more of a manifestation of my own fondness for a nice pair of tits that affects the minds of everyone that looks upon the bespelled boobies." He admitted, deciding not to mention the alternate version of the spell called Hypnotic Rump.

"Why did you not pick me to cast it on zen?" Fleur asked with a pout, holding up her breasts. "Do you not like zem?"

"I like them a lot, but your Allure would mess with the results."

"But Bryanna already has lovely breasts." Luna pointed out. "I have the smallest ones, so you would have gotten the best results if you cast it on me."

"You're right." Harry realised. "Can I cast it on you now and then we can document its effects on both those who already know you have the spell on you and those who don't?"

"Do I need to keep my top on for the cleavage or can I let them go free?" She asked.

Harry gave it some thought. "Lets try with the top on first. Maybe I can make a nipple specific spell?"

"If you do that, make sure it makes them hard first. They'll draw more attention that way." Luna suggested.

"Like a precisely targeted cold spell?" Harry mused. "Ray of Nipple Hardening?"

"That would be a pretty good prank spell." Sirius interjected. "Imagine casting it on Amelia Bones."

"Bonesy would murder you if you did that." Tonks said dryly.

Harry tried to keep the amusement off his face, but the thought of Amelia Bones walking around with chilly, rock hard nipples was a bit much.

"Maybe we should go to ze beach before 'Arry can zink of any more silly spells." Fleur spoke up, her own amusement clearly audible.

XXXXX

 _Later that same day._

Harry's brow furrowed as he looked at the girls walking back to the mansion beside him, wondering if he should ask what he was about to ask. It _was_ kind of taboo.

 _Ah, screw it._ "Girls, how would you like to help me with a little magical experiment?"

"What kind of experiment are we talking about?" Tonks asked suspiciously, garnering nods of agreement from the others.

"The kind that requires you to give me a lock of hair or a vial of blood, preferably both."

"Sure thing, Harry." Luna said without concern.

"Luna!" Tonks exclaimed in alarm. "You can't hand out your blood or hair to just anyone that asks!" There were any number of nefarious things that a skilled wizard could do with those.

"But it isn't just anyone, it's Harry." Luna replied, confused.

That threw the Metamorphmagus off her stride. "Yeah, but..."

"I'm sure he wouldn't use it to cast any curses on me." Luna reasoned.

"Err, well, actually..." Harry interjected awkwardly.

"Whoa, hold up a second." Bryanna butted in. "I know we've been warned to never leave our blood lying around, but nobody ever told us _why_."

"That's because they don't want to give people ideas." Tonks explained with a slight scowl at Harry. "If someone with the necessary skill gets hold of your blood, they can curse you from the other side of the world. And there's no easy way to break that curse if you don't retrieve the sample either."

Harry didn't bother to correct her and say that it worked with any part of a person, though blood was among the best mediums, with only body parts being better. The Black library had such interesting books.

"'Arry, why would you want to curse us?" Fleur asked in exasperation. His openness on the matter probably meant it was nothing too terrible, but it was still not something to just agree to blindly.

"I just want to see if I can." He admitted honestly. He had tried all manner of such magic on the Horcrux, but that thing had its own identity and didn't transmit the effect to the original Voldemort. "It would only be a curse in the technical sense."

"What would it do then?" Bryanna asked with narrowed eyes.

"I can't tell you, it might throw off the results."

"I'll agree to it, but only if the samples are kept in my room and can be destroyed at any time." Tiana said after a long few seconds of thought.

Bryanna agreed under the same conditions.

"I'm fine with that." Harry assented easily.

Fleur sighed in resignation and also agreed to it. Harry could be such a mad scientist at times.

That left only Tonks, who stared at him while worrying at her lower lip. She really wanted to trust him, but everything that she had ever learned from Moody screamed at her that only idiots agreed to things like this.

"When you say it would only be a curse in the technical sense..." She said slowly.

"A persistent magical effect that has specific conditions to undo, but it would be harmless." Harry explained.

"Define 'harmless'." She pressed.

"Severely distracting."

"So it's another sex spell?" She asked dryly, oddly enough feeling reassured by that.

"You'd all be getting a different one, so it's more like several sex spells, some of them more distracting than others." He elaborated grudgingly, not happy that she had guessed correctly.

"And it can be broken by destroying the focus?"

"Mhm."

"I guess I can agree to that..." Tonks said uncertainly.

"You don't have to force yourself if you're not comfortable with this, Dora." Harry said, clearly seeing how troubled she was.

She was tempted to take the out he was providing, but she knew he was a decent guy despite that mess with the Joining. She didn't want to end up like Moody, glaring suspiciously at everything. "No, it's okay...I trust you to keep your word and not to take advantage of this."

XXXXX

Harry looked over the four samples of hair and blood, all carefully marked so that there would be no mix-ups. He could do so many things with these, but it was mostly just proof of concept with a dash of fun added in. The more malicious uses for another's blood or hair would be reserved for enemies.

He was alone in his room for a change, having asked the girls to sleep alone today so as to get the clearest results. They were also to endure his spellwork for as long as they could.

"Alright, let's do Bryanna first." He muttered to himself, taking the lock of dark hair and dipping it into the appropriate blood sample. It should be more effective than just one or the other.

Harry had long been puzzled about the way that wizards and witches classified spells. Curses as he understood them were, as he had explained to Dora earlier, persistent magical effects, usually detrimental, that could be cast over a great distance or on an object.

Why was the Killing Curse a curse? All it did was kill people. That was more along the lines of battle magic or perhaps Necromancy. The other two Unforgivables were similarly non-sensical, as was a slew of other spells. That was sloppy classification it was.

Well no matter. What he was casting now was definitely a curse, even if it wasn't directly malicious.

" _Orgasmic Vibrations._ "

XXXXX

Bryanna lay on her bed, waiting tensely for whatever spell Harry was casting to take effect. She would be lying if she said that she wasn't nervous, but she trusted him.

She gasped as her lady parts started vibrating without warning.

A quiet pop made her turn her head to the side.

"Here is being your blood and hair, Missy Bryanna." Teeny said and popped away.

Bryanna was understandably distracted by the buzzing in her clitoris, but she saw the hair and blood vial on her night stand.

Reassured, she closed her eyes and settled in to enjoy herself.

XXXXX

"Now for Tiana..."

" _Wet Dreams._ "

XXXXX

Tiana waited for something to happen just as tensely as her friend, but nothing did. Teeny delivered her hair and blood and still nothing happened.

Pouting in slight disappointment, she went to sleep. She was assaulted by intensely erotic imagery almost immediately.

XXXXX

"I hope Dora won't kill me for this one..."

" _Unseen Lover._ "

XXXXX

Tonks paced across her room nervously, too wound up to lie down and wait for whatever it was that Harry was going to do. She trusted him not to do anything nefarious, but it wasn't easy to shake off Moody's countless bellows about CONSTANT VIGILANCE. Her old mentor would have screamed himself hoarse if he knew what she had agreed to.

She reflexively drew her wand when Teeny popped in, making the house elf squeak in terror.

"Sorry." Tonks apologised and put the wand back into its holster.

"Is okay." Teeny nervously. "I has your blood and hair."

Tonks nodded and gestured at the night stand, a bit of tension draining from the set of her shoulders as the elf deposited them and popped away.

"I guess it didn't...work?" She trailed off, eyes narrowing as she felt...something.

The ghost of a touch across her arm or leg, a teasing tingle on the back of her neck, a pleasant feeling on her lips and tongue, phantasmal teeth scraping over her nipples and making them harden.

The little sensations began to escalate and Tonks found herself disrobing and lying down on the bed to properly experience it. It wasn't long before her eyes flew open with a gasp of surprise as it felt as if she'd just been penetrated.

Feeling around her groin with her fingers revealed nothing and there was no sense of being stretched, but other than that it definitely felt as if there was a man thrusting into her.

The feeling was decidedly average, almost bland even, but Tonks had been on a dry spell for months. She closed her eyes and relaxed, hand drifting southwards again to help it along.

XXXXX

Harry hummed as he looked at the last two locks of hair and vials of blood. Maybe something a little different for Fleur and Luna?

Fleur was a veela and her hair retained a much stronger magical imprint than a regular witch, which was no doubt the reason why it could be used as a wand core. It shouldn't require dipping it into her blood to get the desired effect. To be honest, he wasn't sure if soaking the hair in blood was strictly necessary, but it undoubtedly made the curses easier to apply.

He would have to be careful if he wanted this done right.

Carefully, he crafted the curse and applied it to the silver-blonde hair gripped in his fingers, making sure that the magic would propagate back to the source.

" _Touch of Frustration_."

Once he was sure that it had taken hold, he twined it with Luna's hair and dipped it in her blood. This was the tricky part now, weaving the next bit of magic into the twined hair so that it would affect both of them but stay focused on Fleur as the primary.

" _Body to Body._ "

XXXXX

Fleur squirmed on her bed in frustration and growled.

Teeny had come to deliver the hair and blood over half an hour ago. Half an hour of utter torment as Harry's spellwork kept her on the edge of orgasm and didn't allow her to go over the edge no matter how much she fingered herself. This was a curse indeed.

She had said that she would endure it for as long as possible, for research purposes, but enough was enough. She grabbed her wand and incinerated the blood and hair.

The constant tingle in her crotch vanished and the feeling of a pending orgasm began to subside, but she was not going to be having any of it. Harry was going to take responsibility for what he'd done.

She stomped out the door and made for the master bedroom.

XXXXX

Luna had also been frustrated by a constant feeling of being one good finger flick away from orgasm, but had been handling it much better than Fleur.

Then it had suddenly stopped, leaving her blinking at the wall in a confused manner. Had Harry's spell failed? She hadn't touched the blood and Teeny hadn't delivered any hairs. The others would have been alarmed by this, but not Luna. She trusted Harry absolutely.

Her confusion didn't last long as she suddenly felt a burst of pleasure from her vagina, making her gasp and tilt face forward into the bed, arse pointed skyward. The sensation continued, a quick thrusting rhythm that she easily recognized as penetration despite having never felt it before.

This was nice.

XXXXX

The next morning, they all gathered in a room to discuss the results of the experiment.

Everyone seemed fine, except for Tiana, who was glaring at him with dark bags under her eyes. She looked exhausted and even her glare lacked energy.

"Alright, let's do this in order." Harry said, ignoring the look. "Bryanna, how was it?"

"Well it was definitely a curse." She said wryly "It was great at first, but the problem was that it didn't stop at just one or two orgasms."

"That makes sense." Harry nodded, having expected the constant stimulation to become unpleasant in short order. "What about you, Tiana?"

"What does it look like?" She asked crabbily. "I woke up soaked and I feel like I haven't slept a wink."

"Huh, I was only expecting you to wake up horny as Hell." He said, scratching at his chin. "A bit more effective than I thought it would be."

"Dora?"

"It was alright." She said with a shrug that hid the minor embarrassment she felt. "Kind of bland and it got annoying pretty quick. Reminded me of you actually."

"Me?" Harry blinked, not sure if he should be offended by that. He was not bland!

"Oh yes, you also had a habit of sticking your cock in without asking if it was alright." She smirked.

"You never complained." He snarked back. "I'll just mark that one as 'inconclusive'."

"Fleur has already made it exhaustively clear what she thought of hers, so let's move on to Luna."

"It was really frustrating at first because I couldn't orgasm no matter how hard I tried, but the second part was great." She chirped. "Was that your penis I was feeling?"

"Actually, you were feeling an echo of what Fleur was feeling." Harry corrected.

"So I _was_ feeling your penis?" Luna pressed.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, you were feeling my penis. Indirectly."

"Neat."

Harry had a sudden thought that needed testing. He reached over and pinched Fleur on the arm. Both Fleur and Luna yelped in pain.

"'Arry!" Fleur protested, glaring at him.

"Luna, you didn't destroy the blood, did you?" He asked in exasperation, giving the veela a conciliatory rub on the arm.

"Why would I?" She asked, puzzled.

"Because you can't go around with a permanent sensation link to Fleur." Harry explained.

"Okay."

XXXXX

Though the vacation was set to last until the end of August, not everyone could afford to spend over a month in the tropics.

Penny's parents were the first to go as their vacation time at work ran out and they needed to go. There was something that they needed to talk to their daughter about first though.

"Honey, are you happy working for Harry?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Penny asked back, bemused by the question.

Sarah and David Clearwater exchanged glances, now looking a lot more brown than when they had arrived.

They weren't the sort to judge other people's lifestyle, but they weren't blind and their host had made no effort to conceal his sleeping around. They were worried about their daughter living in the same house and working for a rich womaniser. When Penny had told them about his age and circumstances, they'd pictured a young orphaned noble that needed a trustworthy adult to help take care of his holdings until he grew up. They'd been so proud of their daughter then. The man they met bore little to no resemblence to the mental picture they had built of Harry Potter.

They hadn't interacted with him much, not because of any dislike on their part, but because Harry always seemed to have something better to do than talk to them. Penny had apologised for him, explaining that Harry wasn't good with new people and prefered to keep to himself. They weren't really offended since they hadn't expected a fifteen-year-old to find a middle aged couple like them interesting in the first place, but it didn't change the fact that they knew virtually nothing about the man their daughter worked for.

"We just don't want you getting hurt." Sarah said delicately.

"Why would I get hurt working for Harry?" Penny asked, baffled. Seeing her parents' awkward expressions made something click in her head though. "Wait...you think I'm sleeping with him?!"

"No, no." David was quick to reassure. "It's just that, well, you're a beautiful young woman and he doesn't seem to think much of bedding every woman he comes across."

Penny flushed in embarrassment, wishing that they hadn't brought this up. "It's not like that, I just work for him."

Sarah and David were still worried, but also unwilling to push any further. Penny was an adult now and they had already incurred her displeasure once when they tried to set her up with the son of some friends of theirs. They would just have to trust that she knew what she was doing.

XXXXX

"What?" Penny asked blankly.

"We wanted to know if every third day with Harry was okay with you and if you have any objection to extra female company." Bryanna repeated patiently.

"...What?" Penny was still not computing.

"Penny, you _are_ sleeping with Harry...aren't you?" Tiana asked, starting to get the feeling that they may have made a terrible mistake.

"No, I am not sleeping with Harry." Penny's calm reply was at odds with her tense expression.

"Oh. We just kind of figured...with you living with him and all." Bryanna said awkwardly, looking towards her equally awkward friend for help.

"Yeah, we thought that you were just holding back because your parents were here." Tiana said. Awkwardly.

"I'm not sleeping with Harry." Penny repeated very calmly.

"Yeah, sorry about that. We'll just...be going now."

The two women fled and left Penny standing there alone, still trying to process what had just happened.

It had barely been a day since her parents had gone home she'd already been asked about reserving days for having sex with Harry, as if he was some kind of popular ride in an amusement park. She'd known that he was sleeping with Fleur, Bryanna and Tiana, as well as whatever was going on with Luna, but this was ridiculous.

Has she become so desensitised to all the sex going on around her that she had stopped registering it? No wonder her parents had been worried.

Penny could privately admit to herself that she was curious about sex. She was nineteen years old and still a virgin, it would be hard to _not_ be curious. She could even admit to having a few dirty thoughts about her employer.

That was kind of problematic because it would be terribly awkward to give out any signals like that after working for him for a year now. It would make their relationship really weird.

And then there was the fact that she wasn't looking for just a quick roll in the hay, no matter how curious she was about it.

XXXXX

Tonks was oddly nervous as she followed Fleur to the secluded spot where Harry taught magic. She had wanted to learn from him too once, but that had fallen by the wayside with the end of their relationship. It had just been too awkward to ask if he'd still be willing to teach her and she'd stayed away.

She'd gone and mentioned that to her new friend and now she was being led along. Hopefully, Fleur was right and Harry wouldn't mind having her there. She knew how stingy he could get with information sometimes.

Harry and Luna were already there when they arrived.

"Oh, is Nymphadora joining us today?" Luna asked curiously.

Tonks muzzled her irritation at the use of her full name. Now was not the time and Luna seemed impervious to her displeasure on the topic anyway.

"Fleur invited me." She said, perhaps unnecessarily.

"I'll have to start you from the beginning then." Harry said, his brows furrowed thoughtfully but making no objection to her inclusion. "Fleur, you and Luna will need to practice by yourselves."

"We will manage." Fleur smiled and went to sit with the girl in question.

"Come with me." Harry said, drawing Tonks' curious gaze away from where the two blondes settled into a crosslegged position with Luna almost sitting in Fleur's lap.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"Somewhere a bit more private, I don't want my rambling to distract them." He answered.

The more private place turned out to be a small cliff that overlooked the ocean. It was a beautiful place, especially with the stars reflecting off the water.

"So...now what?" Tonks asked, idly kicking her legs from where they were hanging over the cliff.

"Well, first we're going to need to have a little philosophical debate." Harry said. He sounded amused.

"How is that going to help me learn about wandless magic?" Tonks asked skeptically.

Harry merely smiled and pointed towards the ocean. "Cast a spell for me, a stunner for example."

With a shrug, she did so. " _Stupefy._ "

"What color was the spell?"

"Red."

"Why was it red?"

That left Tonks stumped. Everyone knew that _Stupefy_ was red, but she'd never heard anyone ask why.

"It just is."

"That's not an answer." Harry still sounded amused. Tonks got the feeling that he'd had this conversation before. "Can you make it green?"

"I don't know how." There was no reason why it should be impossible, but why would anyone waste time figuring out how to do something so pointless? A stunner was a stunner whether it was red, green purple or pink.

"Try."

She still thought it was pointless, but did as he said anyway. The stunner still came out red.

"What color did you expect it to be?" Harry asked.

"I tried to make it green like you said."

"But what color did you _expect_ it to be?

"Red." Tonks mumbled, now seeing where he was going with this. She may have tried to make it green, but she had still expected it to be red. "Are you telling me that wandless magic is that simple? I expect to need a wand, so it doesn't work?"

"Oh no, it's not nearly that cut and dry." He chuckled. "Let's move on to something else, a hypothetical situation. You just had dinner and are left with a bunch of dirty dishes. What do you do?"

That situation wasn't all that hypothetical. "I clean them."

"How?"

"With magic."

"Why?"

Tonks looked at him funny. What kind of question was that? "Why not?"

"You have the power to alter reality and you use it on something as trivial as cleaning a plate. Why not wash it by hand?"

The way he asked made her sound terribly lazy, as if she was too good to do any work. But she figured that there was a trick in here somewhere like there had been with the stunner. "Because it's easier to do with magic."

"So it is." He agreed. "Do you know Percy Weasley?"

Tonks blinked at the abrupt change in topic. "Yeah, I know him." Irritating shit he was too. He'd been a snotty little brat back in her Hogwarts days as Charlie's little brother and had grown up into an even bigger pain as an adult.

"Can you imagine him without magic?"

She tried and found it to be surprisingly easy. Percy Weasley, just another faceless bureaucrat working for the muggle government. Even Percy himself probably wouldn't notice the difference. "Sure."

"Don't you find that odd? He's a wizard that might as well not be one."

"Not everyone can be like you or Dumbledore." Tonks shrugged.

"Since you mentioned me and Dumbledore, what do you think the main difference is between us and someone like Percy?"

Tonks gave it careful thought. She could say it was power, but that was too obvious. "You wash your plates by hand?"

Harry laughed. "No, but good one. I can already imagine Teeny's scandalised look."

"What is the difference then?"

"Percy...he takes his magic for granted. There's no wonder in it for him, no mystery. He has the power to alter reality, but pays it no mind, focusing instead on cauldron bottoms or whatever. People like him will go through their whole lives without once questioning where their abilities came from."

"No one has ever been able to find out where magic comes from, not even the Unspeakables. It just is." Tonks said.

"Or maybe nobody has shared that knowledge yet." Harry smiled.

"You talk like you've got it all figured out, oh mystical sage." She said jokingly.

"I have theories."

"Alright, this I have to hear."

"Like I said, they're just theories. I don't want to say anything until I'm sure."

"Oh come on, you can't tease me like that." She protested, pouting at him.

"You'll be among the first I tell when I have it figured out." He promised. "For now, answer me this, what would Penny's parents see if you cast a stunner in front of them?"

"Muggles can't see spells." It made the job of obliviators a lot easier. Strange things happening were easier to hide without streaks of multi-colored light added to it.

"Why can't they see spells?"

This one was easy enough.

"Because they don't have magic." It was also the reason why they couldn't see dementors, boggarts, lethifolds and any magical creature with even a token skill at concealment. It was the reason why spells of hiding were as effective as they were.

"And why don't they have magic?"

"I don't know, that's what you're supposed to be telling me." Tonks said peevishly, displeased by his circular talk.

"Putting aside the issue of magic, how are magi different from the mundane population?"

Now there was a loaded question. A question that had a war fought over it not that long ago.

"They aren't."

"Are you sure?"

Tonks had been sure before, now she wasn't. The smile on his face seemed to say that he knew some big secret.

"Can you tell me how Penny is different from her parents for example?"

Tonks considered it carefully, but could think of nothing aside from the obvious.

"I don't know."

"Did you know that I can't perform the Joining on muggle women? That they don't feel a veela's Allure?"

Tonks was startled by that. She'd figured that it would be more effective if anything. Most spells were. "Why not?"

"Think about it."

She was tired of thinking about it and just said the first thing that came to mind. "Because they need magic for it."

"Yes, that's correct."

"The next word out of your mouth had better not be 'why?'." Tonks warned.

Harry grinned, amused by her irritation. "Sorry, but you'll never learn how to use magic properly if I don't get you thinking."

"And here I was convinced that you were having fun by jerking me around." Tonks muttered.

"Well, I was also having fun by jerking you around." He admitted. "But I still have to ask you why you think magic in both parties would be a requirement for the Joining to take place. Think about what you know of it."

Tonks huffed and did as he said. She had to hand it to him, he had the cryptic wizard routine down pat.

"You told me that the Joining is a communion between two souls..."She started, encouraged by his nod. "Is magic a medium of some kind?"

Harry pursed his lips. "That's a massive oversimplification but essentially correct. You know about auras?"

"Of course, powerful enough wizards and witches sometimes manifest them when they feel strong emotions."

"No, all magi have auras that are active at all times, you just can't see or feel them most of the time. The aura is a tangible manifestation of one's soul. Think of it as kind of like gravity, an invisible force acting on everything around it. The more massive the object, the greater the gravity. The greater the soul, the stronger the aura."

"That's ridiculous!" Tonks protested. "By that logic, muggles don't even _have_ souls."

"Oh they have souls alright, but they're isolated, cut off, closed, mute. I think that's the reason why they can't do magic actually."

"So what makes our souls so different then?"

"Let me show you something." Harry said and closed his eyes.

She looked at him quizzically, wondering what he was talking about. Then she felt a sudden heavy dread creeping into her mind, making her stiffen with the bone deep certainty of a nearby threat. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as if there was some wild animal breathing down on it. Her head snapped towards Harry and then it was gone as suddenly as it had appeared.

"What the Hell was that?" She demanded.

"That was me projecting hostility in my aura. You felt it and reacted whereas a muggle would feel nothing. That's what I have Fleur and Luna working on now, learning how to become conscious of their auras and how to manipulate them."

Tonks was starting to get a headache from this conversation. No wonder Harry had never fit in with people his own age if this was the kind of shite he thought about all the time.

"Alright, but how does any of this connect to doing magic without a wand?"

"What _is_ a wand? What does it do?"

Tonks glowered at her ex-boyfriend.

"It's important." He defended.

"A wand is a magical focus that allows us to channel our magic." She said after taking a deep, calming breath.

"A wand is a shortcut." He said bluntly. "A shortcut that allows even people as dull as Percy Weasley to cast spells. You're probably wondering what the point was in me asking about dish washing earlier?"

Tonks nodded.

"It was to illustrate what wands have reduced magic to. A thing to make chores easier. I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with using magic to clean up after yourself, but you should always keep in mind what exactly it is you are doing."

"So you're saying that I have to respect magic more if I want to use it without a wand?" Tonks asked slowly, uncertainly.

"First you have to understand that magic done with a wand is barely scratching the surface. Any idiot can say some gibberish and wave a stick in certain pattern if he's told that it will clean up his plate. But the food stains don't disappear because you waved a wand over them, they disappeared because you wanted them to."

Her face scrunched in thought as she chewed over that sentence, trying to figure out whatever deeper meaning Harry was getting at. She herself didn't need incantations much anymore and could do plenty of spells without the proper wand motions, she had a few favorite spells that she was so good at that all she needed to do was point the wand and it would be cast. But take away her wand and she knew that she couldn't do anything.

"Children do magic without a wand all the time, why do you think that is?"

"Because they don't have control?" Tonks said uncertainly.

"Control of what?"

"Their magic?"

"That's true, but you don't have control of your magic either, Dora. You only have control of your wand. Children do magic without a wand because they act with their hearts instead of their brains, something that changes over time. Adults only act with that kind of pure purpose in circumstances where all falsehoods have been stripped away, when everything they hold dear is at stake, in the moment between life and death."

That brought to mind a particular event. "Your mother..."

"My mother knew what was coming. She created a ritual pact that Voldemort unknowingly agreed to when he killed her, her life for mine. She may not have been able to outfight him, but in that one moment she was more powerful than he could ever hope to be."

"A regular Obi-Wan Kenobi." Tonks regretted the thoughtless quip as soon at it flew off her tongue. "Sorry."

Fortunately, Harry was one of those rare weirdoes with a very cavalier view of death, even death that affected him personally. "Heh, I'd say she was a bit more succesful since Darth Voldemort actually got fried, unlike Vader."

"So, what do I have to do to learn wandless magic?" She asked after a few moments of silence.

"First you need to learn truth of spirit, young padawan, or relearn it as the case may be. For now, you should meditate on this conversation carefully and consider what we talked about. We'll get you started on some exercises next time. Be warned that it's going to involve a lot of sitting around and talking though."

Tonks grimaced but agreed. She had no idea what 'truth of spirit' was supposed to mean and wasn't generally one for this kind of philosophical instrospection, but the lure of learning how to do magic without a wand was too tempting. Hard work wasn't only physical and she hadn't been sorted into Hufflepuff for nothing.

XXXXX

"This was a fantastic idea." Sirius declared.

"Despite my initial reservations, I have to agree." Harry replied.

"I wonder which part of it you two like." Hestia muttered, looking over the sight before them.

"I like it too." Luna added her own two cents.

The sight in question was an impromptu volleyball tournament currently underway. Fleur had mentioned that a particular stretch of beach would be perfect for it, with Tonks agreeing immediately. Almost suspiciously so in fact.

Several people had never played or even heard of the game before and Harry had been reticent merely on the premise of it being a sport. Counter-suggestions had been made about setting up a quidditch pitch, but Harry liked that idea even less and the two of them had gotten their way in the end.

Transfiguring a net had been easy, the ball not so much. Turns out that modern balls were just a tad more complicated than they looked. Harry had ended up needing to make a short jump back to London to buy a couple.

They had separated into teams of two, the current players being Tonks and Fleur versus Bryanna and Tiana.

Bryanna and Tiana weren't bad for beginners, but Fleur and Tonks were clearly doing better. The veela and the Metamorphmagus had become fast friends over the course of the vacation and Harry suspected that they had pushed for volleyball with the intention of destroying the opposition.

"Look, even the gods approve." Sirius said dramatically, pointing at the sky.

They all peered at the passing clouds, trying to discern what exactly he was getting at.

"That one does look like a head." Luna agreed with Sirius' interpretation of events, pointing at a particular cloud.

Harry squinted at it and snorted. "Yeah, if the head had horns."

The cloud then tore in such a peculiar way that it looked as if its 'mouth' was bisected by a massive fanged grin.

"I think it's laughing at you." Luna observed.

"It could also be demonstrating approval of the way that Fleur just slapped Tonks on the arse." Sirius offered, staring at the women in question.

"I wonder if you're even registering that one of those girls you're currently ogling is your cousin." Harry said idly.

"I'm only ogling the other three." Sirius defended, somewhat unconvincingly to Harry's ears.

"Those are my women, Sirius. You've got yours right next to you."

"Don't be so damn stingy. I'll let you ogle mine if you let me ogle yours."

"How about you two alpha males not talk about us as if we're a herd of cattle?" Hestia interjected, starting to get genuinely offended.

Harry and Sirius exchanged glances, silently communicating a wealth of male exasperation with the woman that couldn't recognise a joke.

"But they weren't talking about you as if you were cattle, they were talking about you as if you were women." Luna said with a confused frown.

"It's just an expression, Luna." Harry explained without missing a beat, well used to his friend's occasionally too-literal understanding of things.

"Oh, is it because cows have udders?" Luna asked excitedly, face lighting up in realization.

"You know, she might actually be on to something here." Sirius noted conversationally.

"It's amazing how often that happens." Harry replied.

"It's not because cows have udders!" Hestia snapped, trying to inject some sense into the conversation. "It's because men sometimes talk about women like they're perusing meat at the market."

"What kind of meat?" Luna asked, head cocked quizzically.

"What does it matter what kind of meat?!" Hestia asked incredulously.

Harry and Sirius were making no effort at hiding their grins.

"Well I don't like pork much and I've always thought that chickens are too cute to eat, so I would prefer to be talked about like a piece of beef than either of those." Luna explained.

Hestia had to take a deep breath. "Fine, wouldn't you be bothered if someone talked about you like a side of beef?"

Luna frowned in confusion. "What does this have to do with Harry and Sirius enjoying the sight of some bouncing boobies? I know that Harry said it was just an expression, but you're really not making any sense."

"Argh!" Hestia said, looking a bit wild eyed. "It's just disrespectful, alright?!"

"Looking at something they enjoy is disrespectful?" Luna asked, her confused frown deepening further.

"Yes! I mean, no! The problem is that they were staring and how rude they were about it."

"But if it's rude to look at people you find attractive and make jokes, then why were you with the rest of us a few days ago when we were spying on Harry with omniculars? I thought your comments about his penis were really funny too."

Hestia could only stare speechlessly at the petite blonde that had just completely destroyed her. The worst part was that Luna only looked genuinely curious and not the slightest bit smug.

"I'd be happy to give you a closer look at my penis if you want." Harry offered, unable to help himself with such a beautiful opportunity present. His private skinny dip apparently hadn't been as private as he'd thought, but he really couldn't muster any irritation over it.

"Hey, who's poaching whose women now?" Sirius protested.

"It's not my fault if they want my meat sausage."

"Maybe I should go talk to your women then and find out if they want a better seasoned meat sausage."

"Honestly, Sirius, if I wanted my own comeback I would have wiped it off your girlfriend's chin."

Sirius grimaced. He'd have to remember that one for the future, as he couldn't think of anything to retort with that wouldn't sound petulant.

Fortunately he didn't have to as Hestia had by now recovered from getting owned by Luna and took renewed offense to their conversation.

"Are you going to let him talk about me like that?" She demanded, staring at her boyfriend.

"Calm down, Hestia, it's just a joke." Sirius said. A really crass joke admittedly, but still nothing to get so fired up about.

This was apparently the wrong thing to say as Hestia gave him a furious glare and stomped off.

"I think you just became single again." Harry commented.

"I think you're right." Sirius agreed and then a thought occured to him. "Crap, this means that we've just been disqualified from the volleyball tournament. And we were going to win it too."

Harry was about to shatter his godfather's delusions of victory when an enraged female yell resounded over the beach.

"HAVE FUN STARING AT HER THEN!"

Everyone stared after the retreating form of Isabel as she stomped away from her grumpy looking boyfriend, surprised but not _too_ surprised. Paul's weakness to the veela Allure was well known to everyone by now.

"I guess you aren't the only one who just became single." Harry observed calmly, vastly amused by all this jealous drama. Life was so much less aggravating when you didn't sweat the small stuff.

"It's a good thing I brought booze for the victory party, seems like we're going to need it." Sirius said.

XXXXX

Harry stepped quietly out of the master bedroom, making sure not to wake the girls still sleeping in his bed. The mildly sloshed Bryanna and Tiana had insisted on a consolation prize after losing the impomptu volleyball tournament. Luna had skipped along with a similar excuse, though she was obviously unconcerned about the loss.

His intention to go for a morning run and swim was forgotten as another room door opened. Wasn't that Isabel's room? Her boyfriend had asked to be sent home, along with Hestia just before the party that Sirius had insisted on had started.

And wouldn't you know, it was in fact Sirius coming out of the room. There was only one reason why a man would be sneaking out of a girl's room at the crack of dawn.

"You didn't." Harry said flatly.

"I did." Sirius admitted.

"Really, Sirius? A nineteen-year-old girl that had been drinking and just broke up with her boyfriend? Really?" Harry was not overly impressed with his godfather right now.

"I was just trying to tell her that her boyfriend looking at a veela wasn't an indication that he didn't love her." Sirius defended.

"And you somehow ended up sleeping with her?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I think Paul's fascination with Fleur's tush was the least of their problems." Sirius shrugged. "She said she wanted a quick fling and far be it from me to object."

"If you say so." Harry shrugged as well. Truthfully he didn't care too much. He'd never gotten along well with Isabel anyway.

Whatever Sirius might have said in response went unsaid as another door opened and another person snuck stealthily away.

"Fleur?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Oh, boy." Sirius muttered.

The veela had been backing into the hallway and hadn't expected anyone to be there, so she jumped in fright.

"'Arry!" She exclaimed, quickly regaining her composure.

"Isn't that Dora's room?" Harry asked.

" _Oui_." Fleur said with her spine as straight as an arrow. She was clearly not intending to apologise or make excuses.

"So, you and Dora...?" Harry probed. The two of them had been getting very friendly ever since they'd come to this island but he'd never thought they were sleeping together.

"We can talk about eet on ze beach." Fleur said and started walking.

Bemused, Harry followed.

"Can you get me a pensieve memory?" Sirius asked hopefully.

"As if I'd share a treasure like that." Harry snorted.

XXXXX

"So...you and Dora?" Harry prompted once they'd gotten settled into beach chairs.

"We 'ad been drinking." Fleur shrugged. "She eez easy to like and I got carried away."

"No plans to make her your mate then?" He would have to object to that. Strangers were one thing, but he hadn't told Dora about the Joining only for her to get wrapped around a veela's little finger, even this veela.

"I would not be opposed to it." Fleur admitted. "'Er ability makes makes 'er as good as a man in all ze ways zat matter and wiz all ze benefits of being a woman. She would be an excellent mate."

"I'm sensing a 'but'."

"But I know you would not like eet." Harry was still the greater prize. She would pursue Nymphadora as well if she thought he would allow it, but as appealing as the prospect of having them both was, she was not _that_ greedy. Or, to be more precise, not so willing to take the risk.

"You're right about that." He confirmed.

"I should get back to 'er. Zis will be complicated enough wizzout 'er waking up alone ze morning after."

"Alright." Harry nodded, knowing it was true. He had some concern about letting Fleur get into the same bed as Dora again, but he had the sense that she was sincere and wouldn't try to ply her charms on the Metamorphmagus behind his back. "A word of advice. I know how you veela are when it comes to the Joining, but I think you should tell her about it."

Fleur gave him a considering look. "I will think about eet."

XXXXX

Despite her choice of career, Tonks was an exceptionally deep sleeper and would happily snooze until noon if given the chance. On the first day of this vacation, she had taken advantage of the time delay and slept for twelve hours straight.

She was also very slow to wake if left undisturbed and would linger in that peculiar state of half-sleep for as long as possible.

The feminine fingers that trailed gently over her bare back sent a pleasant shiver up her spine, but did not wake her. Instead, it only caused her hair to blaze pink and her lips to turn into a smile as she dreamed of feathers caressing her.

Pleasant though it was, even Tonks couldn't stay in that state indefinitely.

Her eyes opened with a content sigh that quickly froze as full coherence returned.

She had been a quite tipsy last night, but not nearly enough to affect her memory. Just enough to have her inhibitions loosened.

And loose they had been. She remembered gloating with Fleur over their victory and being presented with a cup that had been transfigured from a rock. The small party had eventually died down and people drifted off to their various rooms. Bryanna and Tiana had dragged Harry off while she and Fleur had gone to her room to continue their talk.

There hadn't been much talking though, as the beautiful veela had kissed her almost as soon as the door was closed.

Tonks liked men better, but she wasn't averse to women. Having a constantly shifting body did strange things to one's hormones and a certain level of bi-curiousity was unavoidable.

And Fleur was so intoxicatingly beautiful. Tonks wasn't sure if that was the Allure doing a number on her brain, the alcohol, her own lack of bedroom action or some combination of the three. Either way, she hadn't put up much of a fight as she was manouvered towards the bed.

"Nymphadora, are you awake?" Fleur asked teasingly, pressing herself against the tense Metamorphmagus.

"Don't call me that." Tonks mumbled, mostly just to stall for time. Her hair turned a darker shade.

"Why not? Eet eez a beautiful name." Fleur purred, nibbling on whatever skin she could reach while her hands wandered.

Tonks let out a shuddering breath at the pleasant sensations and bit her lip. She was clearly the only one that felt a bit uncomfortable now that it was the morning after.

She turned around with a small grunt of effort until she was facing Fleur. The veela greeted her with a bright smile.

"Well, this is awkward." Tonks said after a long minute of failing to come up with anything to say.

"Eet doesn't 'ave to be." Fleur replied, still smiling.

"How can it be anything else?" The Metamorphmagus groaned. "I had sex with my ex-boyfriends girlfriend."

"So?" Fleur shrugged, looking amused. "'Arry and I do not 'ave zat kind of relationship."

"What kind of relationship do you have then?" Tonks asked. It was a question that she had been wanting to ask for a long while now, but politeness had stayed her tongue. Harry was clearly sleeping around all over the place and Fleur didn't seem to mind, but...

"Mostly, we are friends who 'ave sex."

"That's all?" Tonks asked in surprise. "But you're living in his house!"

"I am living in his 'ouse because 'e invited me to go with 'im when 'e travels and I accepted. 'Arry...I do not zink 'e eez ready for anuzzer commitment."

And that was the truth. Two months of regular sex with the Joining being performed pretty much every time had only served to tell her that Harry was comfortable with things as they were right now. He did care for her, that much was true, but as a good friend rather than as a lover. That was alright though. She would have honestly been surprised if he'd been ready for something more permanent at his age without magical coercion.

"Oh, you mean he's still...what, pining after me?" Tonks asked quietly, feeling a mixture of flattered and guilty. It was nice to hear that he still cared, but she didn't want to be a chain around his neck. Not when she had been the one to end it between them.

"I would not say _pining_ , 'e eez just...well you know 'ow he gets when somezzing vexes 'im. 'E turns eet over in 'is mind until 'e resolves eet. 'E eez not ready to let go."

Yes, Tonks did know that. "Right, so he won't care about this?"

" _Non._ " Fleur confirmed, and then smiled mischievously. "Besides, it would be quite silly to be upset about it wiz Luna insisting that we will be a _ménage à trois_."

Tonks gaped at her in surprise for a moment and then snorted. "Figures."

"We could make eet a _ménage à quatre_ if you wanted to join us." Fleur suggested with a lewd smile. "I was impressed wiz your performance."

Tonks flushed all the way to the tips of her hair. Yes, last night had been...interesting. She could now conclusively say that while there was definitely more potential pleasure on the girl side of things, she also understood why men were so enamoured with their willies. spearing a girl on one's cock and hearing her moan in response was an oddly satisfying experience.

"I think I'll give that one a miss." She said, stoically forcing the blood back below her neck and her hair to a less embarrassed shade of pink.

"Eet eez for ze best I suppose." Fleur sighed, making a decision. "At least until 'Arry teaches you enough to resist ze effects of ze Joining."

Tonks tensed. "He told you about that, did he?"

"'E did not 'ave to. All veela instinctively perform ze Joining during climax."

Tonks' expression hardened and she sat up, feeling strangely betrayed. "You...!"

"Zere eez no need to worry." Fleur cut her off, also sitting up. "Eet would take much more to leave any lasting effect.

Tonks wasn't sure what to say to that.

Fleur gave her a hug, ignoring how stiff and tense the Metamorphmagus was. "'Arry advised me to tell you about eet. I 'ope we can still be friends."

Tonks still said nothing, only watching in confusion as the veela quickly got dressed and left the room. Why did everything that happened around Harry have to be so bloody complicated? Even an alcohol induced one night stand.

XXXXX

"You want me to what?" Tonks asked, looking down at Harry skeptically.

"Come sit between my legs." Harry repeated patiently, patting the ground in front of him to put some emphasis on it.

"And why do I need to do that?"

"To learn magic."

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Tonks snarked.

Harry cracked at grin at her attitude. "I know what it looks like, but it really is about learning magic."

"Fine." Tonks sighed and settled herself between his legs. "Alright, now what?"

"Now I'm going to be poking at you with my magic while you try to sense it."

She craned her neck around to give him a dubius look. "And how am I supposed to do that?"

"Try not to think and just feel. Your body's instincts are reflected in the soul, it's only a matter of becoming conscious of them." He explained.

"I guess..."

They stayed like that for over an hour, with Harry making metaphysical pokes at her aura in the hopes that she would become aware of it. Tonks meditated and tried to keep her mind as quiet as possible.

"This isn't working." She sighed.

"Don't be so quick to give up, Padawan She-Hulk." Harry quipped. "Rome was not built in a day and other such trite sayings. Learning how to control the impulses of your spirit is no simple thing."

"How did you learn it then?"

"I was six when I figured out that the weirdness happening around me was magic, starting out is much easier at that age."

"Yeah well I was three, so how come I can't shoot fireballs from my hands?"

"I was in an orphanage getting bullied by all the other kids and magic was the road to salvation. You had your parents tell you not to worry because it was just magic. Just. Magic. They probably gave it about as much weight as they would to a bruise."

Tonks sulked, because that was pretty much exactly what happened. Sure, they'd been proud that she was a Metamorphmagus, but they'd still treated it with the same cavalier familiarity that one might indeed give to a bruise.

"Back to practice then?" She asked.

"You seem unsettled." Harry noted. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"Not really." Tonks grumbled.

"It's about Fleur isn't it?"

"What part of 'not really' do you not understand?"

"Sorry, but she's been moping for the past few days and I feel like I need to say something despite my desire to keep out of it." Harry said.

"Fine, say what you want to say then." Tonks grumbled some more.

"She's not like me you know, or like you for that matter." He said mildly. "Veela are creatures born of Sex Magic, they can't help being what they are. I'll teach you how to perform the Joining yourself so that you never have to fear it again, but please talk to Fleur before you leave. I don't know how to deal with depressed women."

Tonks couldn't help snorting at the end. Typical man.

"Fine, I'll talk to her." Fleur had become a good friend, but learning that she'd had another brush with that insidious bit of magic had shaken her. She had to go back to work in a few days though and it would be dumb to leave things unresolved.

XXXXX

There were only five people left on Black Island, the others having left for one reason or another.

After Penny's parents had needed to go back to work, Hestia and Paul had left due to the abrupt end of relationships.

Next had been Isabel and Jade. Upon waking up the morning after the party, Isabel had decided that she regretted sleeping with Sirius and blamed him for it. Jade, ever the short-tempered Gryffindor, supported her friend. That had been the cause of some very stupid drama, which Bryanna and Tiana had quickly put and end to by bustling their friends home.

Tonks had been the last to leave, her vacation time used up. She did patch things up with Fleur before she left though and the veela's mood had improved with the knowledge that she hadn't lost her new friend.

Harry was just happy that she wasn't moping anymore. Give him a complex magical problem over an upset female any day...

The rest of them would be leaving the next day, but for now they were sitting around a fire and roasting marshmallows for some reason. That was probably Luna's doing, or maybe Sirius.

Penny had just asked where Harry was thinking of going for his first trip out of Britain.

"Well my first trip out of Britain is going to be to Austria, but I don't really count that as part of my plans." Harry said, grumbling slightly.

"Why not?" Fleur asked curiously. She wouldn't mind seeing Austria, thought it wasn't as far afield as she had expected.

"Because it literally isn't my plan to go there." He grumbled some more. "It was Adrastia who told me that Malfoy was the one trying to kill me, and she demanded that I be her date to some kind of private party in Vienna on Christmas as payment."

Of course, Harry didn't for a moment believe that it was that simple. Adrastia had a habit of introducing new variables into his life every time she showed up and he didn't expect this to be any different. He might have chanced going on his first trip before Christmas if his promised date was with someone more benign.

"You didn't tell me about this." Sirius said, mildly accusing.

"Because you always make a fuss when Adrastia is mentioned." Harry retorted.

"I do not." Sirius protested. "I just don't trust her."

"You think I do?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Where are we going after that then?" Luna asked.

"I was thinking America, either South or North." Harry mused. "I really want to get a look at the remains of the Aztecs."

"I've always wanted to go to Vegas." Sirius chimed in.

"Of course you did." Harry didn't have much interest in gambling or strippers or whatever else happened there, but he could easily imagine Sirius going there.

"I would like to see eet too." Fleur said.

"See, we could go there to play a few games of Blackjack and you'll have the best arm candy in the place."

"Hmph, I would not go zere only to be arm candy." Fleur said with her nose in the air, though she didn't take much offense.

"I could be arm candy." Luna offered.

Everyone paused for a moment in consideration before Harry spoke. "You know, I forgot that Luna's age might actually be a problem here. Penny, do you know if Las Vegas has any magical oversight?"

"Not a clue."

"Something to look into then."

"Where else do you want to go?" Penny questioned. "I might as well take a closer look at all of those places so that you don't end up getting screwed over by some minor detail."

"Australia maybe, I'm not sure about that yet. Egypt definitely, though I'd want to speak both ancient and modern Egyptian before going." Bloody sphinx had set _that_ destination in stone.

"I think the Department of International Magical Cooperation offers a magical means of learning languages quickly, though the price for non-employees is pretty steep." Sirius said and then scowled. "That bastard Crouch supposedly speaks over a hundred and fity languages. He probably got those lessons for free since he was the head of that department."

"That's good to know." Harry said, dismissing the price as irrelevant, though he would still probably bully whoever was in charge of that into lowering it for him. No sense in paying more than you had to.

"Where else do you want to go?" Fleur prodded, very interested in hearing this. Egypt sounded like quite an adventure.

"India." Harry mused. "I know that our stupid ancestors did everything they could to ruin the country's magical heritage, but there has to be something left." That had been surprisingly difficult to learn.

India's magical side was modeled to closely resemble Britain these days, due to the fact that it was British wand-wavers that had gone there first and started enforcing the Statute of Secrecy on it. Based on his research India's magicals had probably been much more heavily integrated in the day to day life and religion of the society than the European ones. That sounded like something that would have given the weenies in the ICW a heart attack and caused them to start liberally applying memory charms and forcing the local wandless magicals to conform to their ways. Still, Harry was hoping that they had failed to destroy it completely and that some remnant yet remained. It would be pretty sad if a culture that was thousands of years old had been altered into some kind of pseudo-Britain.

"Can't you pick somewhere more fun to go to?" Sirius asked in exasperation.

"Well I'm also planning to buy a flying carpet from there if I can't get my hands on one before then. Is that fun enough for you?"

"Better, but only if there's belly dancers involved."

"You never know, there might be."

"I'm all for it then."

"Anything else?" Penny asked, fully recovered from the near centrifugal forces generated by her eyerolls at this conversation.

"Greece? I've always wanted to go to the top of Mount Olympus and throw a few lightning bolts around, confuse some people."

"Now we're talking." Sirius said enthusiastically, always up for a prank. "Err, _can_ you throw lightning bolts though?"

Harry brought his hands together, palms a few inches apart and put a look of concentration on his face. Arcs of electricity began to spark between them. Then it got out of control with a loud 'fzark' sound.

"Yow!" Harry yelped, shaking out his hands. "As you can see, it's a work in progress. Fucking lightning is even more wild than fire. A lot more."

"Maybe you should stop playing with it then?" Penny suggested.

Harry merely stared at her blankly. _Stop_ playing with lightning? Stop playing with _lightning_?

"Nevermind." She sighed at the look on his face. "How silly of me to suggest you stop playing with dangerous natural forces."

Damn right it was silly. The Sunlight Spear wasn't going to invent itself.

XXXXX

After leaving Black Island and her dog of an ex-boyfriend, Hestia Jones wasn't too surprised to receive a dinner invitation from Emmeline Vance. She'd been friends with the older witch for many years now and they got together fairly frequently.

She _was_ surprised however, when Albus Dumbledore showed up as well. While she had known that Emmeline was on good terms with her old headmaster, she hadn't really expected to have him show up for something so casual.

Still, it was nice to be in the presence of the powerful old wizard and listen to his rambling stories about what he'd been doing over the summer. She found herself sharing her own summer before she knew it.

Albus gently skimmed Hestia's mind while she talked about her holiday on Black Island, subtly directing her to talk about Harry as much as possible. He did not get as much as he would've wished since Hestia and Harry had not interacted much, but every bit helped.

Harry would always have to be watched for as long as the prophecy was in play and Voldemort was still alive.

XXXXX

 **Special credit to Milennial for sending me two PDF files, those being "Nymphology" and "The Book of Erotic Fantasy" from which I lifted those sex spells.**


	27. Chapter 27

**As always thanks go to Joe Lawyer for helping me polish things up.**

XXXXX

Narcissa recognised the Potter owl as it flew towards her. Some difficult to identify sensation made her insides quiver. Fear or anticipation? Both?

It was still August so Harry wasn't supposed to be back yet. Still, the familiar owl usually preceded another summons to Grimmauld Place, so it was likely that he had returned early and was sending for her. That squirming sensation got stronger.

As she had expected, it was indeed a summons and Narcissa went back inside to get ready. The letter said to come immediately, which was rude, but she wasn't in a position to complain and it wasn't like she had anything better to do these days. She'd been trying to keep the gardens around Malfoy Manor in some semblance of order, but they were large and she was no gardener.

A quick bath made sure that she was clean and then she was underway. She only stopped to tell Draco that she would be gone for a few hours.

The tightness of his expression revealed that he knew where she was going, not that it was hard to guess. He had become less volatile over the past month, but she still worried about him. The perpetually scowling teenager bore little resemblance to the boisterous child he had once been.

The door to Grimmauld Place was unlocked and she made her way inside without issue, focusing most of her attention on calming her conflicting feelings.

Harry was waiting for her in the foyer, tall and tanned and looking even more handsome than she remembered. His shoulders seemed broader and his pectorals more pronounced. The muggle shirt he was wearing showcased these features well.

"Narcissa." He greeted, giving her a small smile.

"My lord." She said back. A slight flush worked itself up her neck and she averted her gaze from those too-green eyes.

"We'll be going to Potter Manor today." He said and her eyes snapped back up towards his. Did he want to do it there? With his assistant and Cousin Sirius and whoever else lived there present?

"My lord?" Narcissa managed to keep the nervous tremor out of her voice.

"I'll need to introduce you to everyone if you're going to work for me." He explained.

Oh. Then they weren't going to...? Had he lost interest in her while he was on holiday?

"Something wrong?" Harry asked.

"No, of course not." Narcissa said promptly.

"Are you sure?" He sounded amused as he stepped closer, a hand reaching to stroke her cheek.

Narcissa' breath caught as heat pooled in her loins in response to the gesture. "Y-yes."

"You don't sound sure." Harry said musingly, stepping even closer, so close that there was barely any room between them. "Were you hoping for something else, Cissy?"

Narcissa closed her eyes. This was another one of his games, but she couldn't lie. He would know. "Yes."

His hand crept behind her back to take a firm grip of her hair. "I thought so." And then his lips were on hers, demanding and eager and every bit as good as she remembered.

XXXXX

 _Later._

The introduction to the residents of Potter Manor went well enough. They'd already known that Harry was paying her a stipend and that she would be working for him, so none of them were too surprised by her appearance. The most common emotion was ambivalence. Fleur and Luna simply didn't know her, while Sirius and Penny had past grievances with either Narcissa personally or the Malfoy family in general but weren't cruel enough to advocate leaving her to the wolves.

After that mostly painless experience, Harry, Narcissa and Penny retired to the room that the latter used as her office to discuss the former Mrs. Malfoy's duties.

"You'll be taking over the social aspects of my correspondence; fanmail, hatemail, invitations and anything else that Penny sees fit to pass on to you." Harry was saying, making Narcissa frown.

Harry saw her expression and elaborated. "Yes, you'll be getting most of your work from her. Your other set of duties will of course be to help me navigate Britain's political and social cess pit."

He didn't tell her that Penny would still be doing all of that work herself for a while longer. It would mean having the same work done twice, but he wasn't willing to trust Narcissa quite yet.

Narcissa cleared her expression and nodded her understanding. She didn't like this arrangement, essentially becoming an assistant to...someone so young and ill-suited to being the steward of a noble family. But she didn't like a lot of things in her life lately and would just have to deal with it.

"Then we should discuss your political aims." She said.

"Easy, I don't have any." Harry replied flippantly.

"I see." Narcissa said, not entirely surprised. It was odd for a family head to have no agenda, but not unheard of. Some were more interested in simple profit rather than politics.

"Is that a problem?" He asked.

"Not as such, though you will find yourself courted for support by everyone until your political leanings become known."

"She's right about that." Penny spoke up. "You've already received several dinner invitations while we've been away. They were probably pretty cranky about not getting an answer for so long too."

"They should have realised we weren't home when nobody replied." Harry said with a shrug. He certainly wasn't going to make an announcement in the _Prophet_ every time he was unavailable.

"Those dinner invitations were more likely attempts to curry favor with you, they may even have been hoping to entice you with any daughters they might have." Narcissa added, clearly remembering such events being organised for Bellatrix and Andromeda, though the latter had stormed out and never looked back when their parents had tried to arrange a marriage for her.

"It'll be your job to tell them that they can fuck off then." Harry said dryly.

"Very well." She nodded, unsurprised by his stance on the matter even if his delivery was a bit crude. Only the more traditionalist families still adhered to such practices after all.

"Right, do we have any other business to talk about?" Harry asked, clearly hoping that the answer was negative.

"Your appearance in the Wizengamot." Narcissa disappointed him.

"Do I _have_ to appear in the Wizengamot? I know that Sirius never did."

"Sirius was never the most...responsible of people." She replied carefully, not wanting to offend him.

She had nothing to worry about however, as Harry would certainly not take offense at that sort of accurate observation. "So, more teenage rebellion that he never grew out of?"

"That would be one way of looking at it." She admitted.

"You still haven't told me whether it's really necessarry for me to show up there though."

"It isn't _strictly_ necessary. There are a few cases where attendance is considered mandatory, but they are very rare. If a law is voted on and a member is not present, they are considered to have abstained. The same applies if a trial is conducted."

"And the downsides of not attending?"

"You would have no say in what laws were passed."

Yes, well, that was obvious enough. Harry didn't actually care too much about the law, nor did he care about the country in general. He wasn't sure if he could afford to ignore it though, not with Voldemort's wraith looming over the future like a bad smell. Even putting aside the Dark Lord's hit list that undoubtedly had his name at the very top, leaving Magical Britain lubed up and bent over for him seemed like a bad idea.

What to do about it though? Playing around at lawmaking was all well and good, but Voldemort had even less regard for the law than he did and would do whatever he wanted anyway. What he needed to do was chip away at Voldemort's support base so that he wouldn't be able to just pick up where he left off once he restored himself.

And Harry was pessimistic enough to know that Voldemort _would_ restore himself. He had no leads on the other Horcruxes, so unless Dumbledore managed to actually be useful he'd definitely be coming back eventually.

The more he thought about it, the more he realised just how difficult a task it would be to make the country hostile to Voldemort's ambitions. The laws themselves weren't openly discriminatory for the most part aside from the special privileges given to the nobility, it was the culture itself that was the problem and that wasn't easy to change by any stretch. It could be done, but there simply wasn't _time._ Voldemort would undoubtedly be back long before anything of note could be accomplished peacefully, even if Harry himself hadn't been planning to go gallivanting around the world.

Dumbledore could have done it. In the wake of Voldemort's defeat fourteen years ago, everything had been perfectly set. Dumbledore held all the important offices and was held in great respect. People would have been happy to lynch any corrupt politicians that got in the way of putting down all of Voldemort's followers that were still at large. He'd had all the time, power and opportunity in the world to make Magical Britain so poisonous to Voldemort's philosophy that the Dark Tosser would have thrown his hands up in frustration and left. Well, maybe not _that_ , but he certainly could have done more than twiddle his thumbs.

But Harry could already imagine what Dumbledore's excuse would be for not making that final push. _The country needed time to heal, Harry._

Sometimes he wondered if the old man even saw how diseased the country was. It would have been better to let it bleed a little more so that all the filth was drained out.

Now the opportunity was gone. People had gotten complacent again and the Death Eaters had once more established themselves as pillars of society. The only thing he could think of in the short term was to throw money at the DMLE and hope that they would have enough aurors to hold him off at least for a while.

"How would I go about getting the DMLE's funding increased?" He finally asked.

"Why would you want to do that?" Narcissa asked in surprise.

"Because of reasons." Harry answered unhelpfully.

She frowned at his response but answered anyway. "That is mostly at the discretion of the Minister of Magic, but Fudge has long been paranoid about Amelia Bones wanting to steal his position and will not be inclined to do so." That was something that Lucius had spent years cultivating.

"Hmm." Harry hummed, wondering if he could bully Fudge into it. The moron had no spine to speak of, but he was so terrified of losing his position that he might actually resist that. "What about just getting rid of Fudge an installing Bones as Minister of Magic?"

"Impossible, she's too inflexible. The Wizengamot would never vote her in, not unless the situation was truly dire." Narcissa shook her head.

"And by 'inflexible' I assume you mean 'unwilling to take bribes'?" Harry asked dryly.

"Yes."

"Finding a way to increase the DMLE's funding it is."

"You may have more luck convincing wealthy witches and wizards to make donations to the department." Narcissa suggested. "The Ministry sponsors a ball to commemorate the anniversary of the Dark Lord's defeat every year on Halloween, Lord Ogden will be hosting it this year."

"Ah yes, _that_." Harry said sourly. "Fudge has already implied none-too-subtly that he'd like it if I showed up. I suppose you think I should attend?"

"It would be an ideal venue to present yourself as a prominent member of Wizarding Britain's elite, which would in turn make your goals easier to achieve." She shrugged.

"Fine." He conceded grumpily. "What do I need to know about this stupid ball?"

"It will be quite similar to the Yule Ball you had at Hogwarts last year. Formal wear, dancing, a date. The only real difference will be the presence of the press and that there will be more focus on politicking than having fun."

"A date huh?" Harry said, scratching at his chin. "What would happen if I bring two dates? Fleur and Luna."

"The Lovegood girl would reflect poorly on you because she is not considered an adult yet." Narcissa paused for a moment, struggling to find the right words to explain why the sub-human veela was also a poor choice without offending him. "Ms. Delacour would work as a date, but there are many that would wonder at the closeness between you, the _Daily Prophet_ and _Witch Weekly_ included."

"Won't they wonder that no matter who I bring?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, but...they would wonder more if it was her." She tried to say as delicately as possible.

"Because she's a veela." It wasn't a question.

"...yes."

Harry was tempted to crack a joke about asking Adrastia to really give people something to talk about, but caution stayed his tongue. That was one association that might be better if it was kept as secret as possible.

Who to take as his date though? He didn't care much about the prejudices of the inbred mouth breathers, but this wasn't a fun occasion. Taking Fleur would not only bring him into inevitable conflict with said mouth breathers, but would also put her in a very uncomfortable situation as they all looked down their noses at her while simultaneously leering at her tits. He could handle a little scuffling and taking her would certainly make a statement, but she would not have a good time there.

Who did that leave?

Dora? Awkward.

Penny? Awkward.

Bryanna or Tiana? Possibly, and it could double as an opportunity to advertise for their store.

...

Harry shot Narcissa a speculative look. The blonde aristocrat still had a certain prestige despite her recent poor fortunes in life. She would work as an advertisement board far better than either Bryanna or Tiana, as well as being far more useful as an information source. Then there was the fact that he was currently supporting her, which would help build up his image if he was going to play this silly social game.

How absurd that the lessons learned from Robert and Katherine which he'd disdained for years were coming in handy just as he'd gotten clear of them.

"You've been to this kind of thing before, right?" He asked.

"Of course, a few have even been hosted in Malfoy Manor." Lucius had been meticulously careful to portray the image of a man glad to be out from under the Dark Lord's 'Imperius'.

"You'll be my date then, Narcissa." Harry said.

"As you wish, my lord." She said with a small smile, very pleased by the unexpected invitation, even if it was more of an order. The social isolation that she'd been suffering since Lucius' death had been starting to get to her and she would relish this chance to get out and about.

"You're not taking Fleur then?" Penny asked unhappily, disappointed that he would cave in to the bigotry pervading Magical Britain.

"She'd be miserable if I took her there." Harry explained with a shake of his head. "I'll take her on a nice date somewhere else. Shit, maybe I'll take her on a date to Paris so that she can spend the whole time gloating about how much better French cuisine is."

XXXXX

"My lord, why are we here?" Narcissa asked, glancing around at the muggle streets and muggle houses and muggle cars. She was also dressed in muggle trousers and a muggle shirt that made her look disgustingly muggle, but when the man that held your future in his hands puts muggle clothes into your hands and tells you to wear them, you didn't complain. At least they weren't uncomfortable, though she would have still prefered robes.

"You'll see." Was all Harry would say as they walked down the streets of Arundel.

They arrived in front of the correct house in short order and Harry rang the doorbell.

Harry had a good idea what kind of schedule the girls had and had timed it so that he would catch Bryanna and Tiana instead of the other two, so he was somewhat surprised when Isabel opened the door.

"Harry?" She questioned with a puzzled frown, looking over at him and the older blonde woman that looked vaguely familiar.

"Isabel." Harry said back, noting that she looked rather frumpy and figuring that it was probably because of her recent breakup. Or perhaps the thing with Sirius. "Are Bryanna and Tiana in?"

"Yeah, they're down in the basement." Isabel said and stood aside to let him enter, making her way back upstairs without another word.

"What a rude girl." Narcissa muttered.

"Nevermind her." Harry said dismissively and led the way towards the basement.

Narcissa looked around curiously as they entered the obviously magically expanded space. It was clearly the work area of a magical seamstress, though the clothing she saw looked more muggle than anything that a self-respecting magical seamstress would make.

"Girls, this is Narcissa Black, formerly Malfoy. I want you to make her something to wear for a formal Ministry sponsored ball." Harry said once they found Bryanna and Tiana.

Narcissa blinked in surprise. She'd been expecting to wear one of her old sets of formal robes, not getting something new made.

"We could do that, but won't you be expected to wear formal robes for an occasion like that?" Tiana said, looking at the blonde woman over with an assessing frown.

"Yes, but I don't like formal robes." He smirked.

"My lord?" Narcissa asked nervously. What exactly did he expect her to wear? Some of the things she was seeing here were a bit...lacking.

"Don't worry, you'll be in good hands here." Harry said.

"Aw, that's so sweet of you, Harry." Both girls cooed.

"Yeah, that's me. Nothing but sweetness." Harry remarked dryly, making them laugh.

"How much time do we have?" Bryanna asked professionally, getting serious. They had never made any formal wear, but the former Mrs. Malfoy would make for an excellent model. She was quite beautiful and had a good shape. Plus, blue-eyed blondes were easy to pick colors for.

"Until Halloween."

"Plenty of time then." Tiana said confidently and then looked at Harry. "What are you going to be wearing though? We need to know so that we don't put her into something that will clash with you."

"I haven't given myself too much thought yet." Harry replied, scratching at his chin. "I know that you girls are focusing on the female side of things, but could you make me a modified set of formal robes? Something similar to the basilisk hide coat maybe? Just stay away from anything overly colorful."

"We could give it a try, men's clothes are generally easier to work with anyway." Bryanna said thoughtfully.

"Good, and just think of all the free publicity this will get you for when you finally open your store." Harry smirked.

Both girls froze, their thoughts having been on the clothes themselves rather than on where they would be worn. They knew well enough to know that women always gossiped about the clothes they were wearing, so if they put Narcissa into something especially eyecatching, everyone would know who had made it before the night was out. That combined with Harry endorsing it would give them a massive leg-up on their business. It would let them muscle in on the high society market that they had abandoned as impenetrable years ago. They might even start a whole new fashion trend.

 _If_ they made it look good.

XXXXX

 _September 24th._

Harry stared at the large whiteboard in consternation. It had a diagram on it, with eight points arranged into a rough circle. Each of the points bore the name of a person that carried one of the ever so useful communication mirrors.

Truly, those things were a marvel of magic, the brainchild of James Potter and Sirius Black, with a large dash of Lily Potter's Charms brilliance thrown in to make it work like a video phone. If only the damn things could be made to work in more than _pairs_.

Harry figured that he could _maybe_ make a three-way set, but not easily. And it would be fairly moot anyway since there were now eight mirrors in play. Aside from the five residents of Potter Manor, there was also one for Dora, one for the girls in Arundel, most recently one for Narcissa to make summoning her easier and Fleur had just come back from France after visiting her family and requested another mirror for them.

In short, shit was getting complicated. Granted, the pair connecting Fleur to her parents and sister didn't need to be connected to the others, but that wasn't the point.

"I don't zink zis can be done, 'Arry." Fleur said, looking over a page of notes. "Ze spellwork becomes exponentially more complex wiz every new mirror."

She was pretty good at enchanting and Arithmancy, but knew when something was beyond her. Harry's project to make these mirrors more convenient was simply too ambitious.

Harry knew that she was right. With eight mirrors, every one of them would need seven inbound and outbound connections. The modified master-master Protean Charms would get all tangled up even if the mirrors themselves could support that level of enchantment. The diagram was a mess of vectors.

But he wasn't willing to give up on this just yet. Handheld instantaneus communication was simply too useful to abandon the idea, not to mention the potential profit.

It was as he was staring at the empty spot in the center of the diagram that inspiration struck.

"What about...this." He said, quickly erasing all the connections and making another big dot right in the middle. Then he drew two vectors between the center point and every dot representing a person with a mirror. The diagram was now a much more elegant thing

"Zat might actually work." Fleur said, quickly getting up and moving to stand beside him. "Each mirror would only need to carry ze standard enchantment zis way."

"And the central nexus could be made to block incoming connections if one is already active." That had been the other issue that got in the way of multi-mirror connections. If someone tried to establish a connection with a mirror that was already in use, things could get pretty strange.

"But ze enchantment on zis nexus as you call eet would still be very complex." Fleur warned, playing Devil's advocate.

"Especially if I want it to be capable of accepting new connections after it was first made." Harry agreed.

"'Arry..." Fleur was exasperated. They had only just figured out a possible solution to the multi-mirror problem and he was already piling on something else.

"That was always what I was going for." He shrugged. "This way, there won't be any need to link a new mirror with every individual one that was already active. Instead, we can just link it into the nexus and it'll become part of the communication network."

Harry was already dreaming of selling this kind of thing worldwide. Or better yet, renting it out. Best of all, it was a guaranteed success since the mundane world had already more than demonstrated the appeal of a portable communication device.

He would be so rich that the goblins would have a collective heart attack. He'd probably be able to start his own fucking bank if he was so inclined. Well not really since the fucking goblins had made that illegal, but theoretically. And it wouldn't just be galleons either. The Americans and anyone else that wasn't economically shackled to the goblins would want this just as much.

Potter Communications had a very pleasant ring to it.

XXXXX

 _Halloween._

"Harry Potter, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and the Noble House of Potter. His escort, Narcissa Black. "The herald announced, starting up a loud murmur as everyone's attention was brought to the new arrivals.

Quite a few people present were scandalised at what the former Mrs. Malfoy was wearing. A halter-neck style dress of dark red velvet that left her arms bare and clung to her tighly enough to leave little of her form to the imagination. The skirt was floor length but had a knee high slit on one side to allow a flash of leg to be seen as she walked. There would be even more scandalised looks when they saw that her back was almost entirely bare as well.

Harry's outfit was considerably less eyecatching, but still easily identifiable as having muggle roots. Simple black trousers and a subdued dark green shirt covered by something that could have passed as a modified formal robe or a somewhat eccentric looking black coat that was open in the front.

Narcissa kept her nervousness hidden behind an expressionless mask. She was an old hand at keeping up appearances and pretending that her current outfit didn't make her uncomfortable wasn't that hard.

It was a beautiful piece, she would admit. The material was comfortable, the spellwork kept it smooth and free of unsightly wrinkles, a subtle enchantment made the dark red velvet shimmer wonderfully whenever it caught the light, which was certainly a much better effect than the over-the-top magical additions that some people put on their clothes and another enchantment provided superior support to her bust than anything she'd ever worn. In pure workmanship, she would rate it was being very high quality.

It was however, a severe departure from tradition and left her feeling almost naked. She knew that a bold move like this would have been damaging to her reputation if she had done it on her own. Doing it on Harry Potter's arm would probably let her get away with it, but she was still nervous.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road." Harry murmured so that only she could hear. "You know what to do, so do it well and I'll help you get out of that dress after it's over."

Narcissa shivered slightly at the implied promise. They had met up several more times since he had come back from his vacation and he had left her aching in all the right places every time.

She knew what her job was tonight. Feed him information on the people present and speak only high praise for those girls he was sponsoring and their work. She would help him as best she could, not only because her own fortunes depended on it, but because she had grown to have genuine respect for Harry. And also because she wanted help taking her dress off later.

They made their way towards the host, the aging Lord Tiberius Ogden, to greet him as protocol dictated.

"Lord Ogden set his family in opposition to the Dark Lord during the war, but backed down when a cadet branch of his House was wiped out. He is a principled man, but will put his family above others if it comes to it." Narcissa informed him quietly.

Harry gave her hand a light squeeze to acknowledge her words as they reached the man and exchanged tedius, but necessary, pleasantries.

"I must admit that I was starting to wonder if Fudge was having me on when he said that Harry Potter himself would be attending this year." Ogden said once that was done.

"I underestimated how much time it would take me to prepare, I'm afraid." Harry lied. Narcissa had been the one to suggest that arriving so late would have more impact. She was right of course, though it was also more uncomfortable, but Harry was now a past master of submerging his mind in the peace of Dark to counter such troublesome emotions

"Ah, I see." Ogden nodded in understanding. "Well you're here now, so please enjoy yourselves. This celebration is after all held in honor of your victory over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-named."

"It wasn't much of a victory for me, though I will try to enjoy it in the hope that we don't see a resurgence of those times." Harry said.

Tiberius didn't have much to say in response, though his eyes did soften at the reminder that Harry had lost his parents that day. For some reason, he also felt a sudden swell of worry at the thought of those evil days coming around again.

"That was well done." Narcissa complimented as they walked away.

"We'll see." Harry muttered back. He'd cast a something like a reverse Calming Charm on the old wizard, a Dread Charm, in the hope that he'd be more malleable later. "Fudge is coming over here."

"He's breaching protocol." Narcissa hissed quietly from between her teeth, staring coldly at the approaching Minister. He was wearing snot green robes and looked as if he was about to wet himself.

"Harry, so glad you could make it." Fudge said a few decibels too loudly and sticking out his hand for a shake.

Narcissa's lips thinned at the further breach of protocol. Not only had he approached them before the first dance, but he was speaking too loudly and forcing Harry to let go of her so that he could return the handshake. The entire ballroom was openly staring at them, but Fudge seemed to have such severe tunnel vision that he didn't notice anything other than Harry.

"Cornelius." Harry smiled tersely, something that was naturally lost on Fudge. "You've already met Narcissa Black, I'm sure."

"I have, and might I say that you look stunning." Fudge blustered.

"Thank you." She said. Tersely.

"I must say that I'm surprised to see you two arriving together, especially after the...err, you know." The Minister commented tactlessly, flushing as he realised what he'd just mentioned.

"Lord Potter is now my Head of House and has graciously offered his support after the disgrace my former husband brought on me and my son." Narcissa replied so flintily that even Fudge grasped that he shouldn't mention it again. "Now if you'll excuse us, I believe the first dance is about to start."

She put her arm back into the crook of his elbow and they walked off, leaving the embarrassed politican to retreat to safety.

"I still find it hard to believe that man remembers how to breathe without someone advising him on it." Harry muttered irritably.

Narcissa cracked a brief smile.

XXXXX

 _Some time later._

Harry was sitting at his table and staring around the room with a calculating gaze.

Narcissa had pointed out everyone of importance to him while they had been dancing and he was considering the information.

There were a lot of problematic people here.

Nott, Avery, Parkinson, Flint, Bulstrode, Mulciber, Dolohov, Travers, Yaxley, Selwyn, Carrow, Rookwood, Rosier. All noble families that Narcissa had fingered as being openly supportive of Voldemort's ideals. Many of them currently had some Death Eater family members in Azkaban or in the grave, while others had managed to weasel out of it in one way or another. Only the Lestranges were all either dead or locked up.

There were plenty of others who weren't noble, but still openly supportive, such as Crabbe and Goyle, and that wasn't even counting the non-British magicals that Voldemort had recruited.

After them came the ones who, while not willing to put on a Death Eater mask, had not been particularly upset about what Voldie had been doing and had been politically obstructive to the resistance against him.

And after them came the fence sitters that had stayed pointedly neutral the last war, such as Greengrass and Davis.

Lastly were the ones who had openly opposed Voldemort to the end, such as the Potter, Longbottom, Bones and...not much else actually. Most of the anti-Voldemort resistance had come from non-nobles, with every other Noble House aside from those three having either kept their heads down from the start, capitulated after Voldemort turned his attention on them or been wiped out. And those three weren't doing so great as far as the number of living members were concerned.

No wonder the war against Voldemort had been going so poorly. The two main players had definitely been Dumbledore and Voldemort, but Voldemort had been far more proactive and able to rally support while Dumbledore had done his mysterious twinkly grandfather act and convened his bird club meetings instead of taking the fight to them.

In Narcissa's best educated guess, roughly half of the remaining Wizengamot families were a problem to one degree or another.

And now he'd inherited this mess because the old goat botherer thought that twiddling one's thumbs was an excellent way to prepare for the second coming of a crazy, pseudo-immortal Dark Lord.

Joy.

Well the most direct plan to make things difficult for Voldemort would be to murder all his followers before he could come back, something that Harry resolved to do if an opportunity presented itself. He wasn't interested in becoming a wanted man at this juncture, so he couldn't go on any reckless killing sprees, but disposing of a free roaming Death Eater if he had a chance wasn't something to be turned down given the circumstances.

The less direct plan was to funnel some money towards the DMLE and hope for the best.

And speaking of money, Harry spotted Lord Parkinson over yonder, apparently in conversation with some Ministry flunky or other.

Narcissa was currently engaged with a group of ladies that included the man's wife, who were no doubt interrogating his date on her dress and making private speculations about what else she was doing for him. If he wasn't mistaken, there was also a reporter from _Witch Weekly_ in there somewhere. Well that was part of the reason that he'd brought her, so she was doing her job.

He'd already been approached by a few reporters and other nosy people himself, but had generally been able to deflect them without any major issue. A few presumably single women were making cow eyes at him, obviously hoping to be invited to dance. Protocol said that the man had to ask for a dance, so they couldn't approach him themselves. Protocol finally being good for something, who would've thunk it?

This was a good a time as any to inform Parkinson that he didn't appreciate being stolen from.

XXXXX

Edward Parkinson, the current Lord Parkinson, started a little when Harry Potter sat down at his table, uninvited.

"Evening." The very young and very dangerous wizard greeted pleasantly.

"Good evening." Edward returned cautiously, not trusting the pleasantness. He shot a look at the Ministry official he'd been talking to.

The man was a lot more perceptive than Fudge and knew when it was time to go. "Excuse me, Lord Parkinson, I think I hear my wife calling me. Lord Potter."

There was no wife calling of course, but an excuse to leave need not be a good one.

"What can I do for you, Lord Potter? Or do you prefer Lord Black?" Edward asked.

"Potter will be fine. As for what you can do for me, well I've heard that you provided the wine for this ball and I came to compliment you on its quality."

Potter's tone was still pleasant, but Edward was now very nervous.

"Thank you, we strive to provide the best." He said.

"You know, I've always wanted to own a vineyard. Pity that the Potter family doesn't seem to have a source of income which would justify the expenditure of purchasing one." Even now, Potter's words were polite and pleasant, but there was suddenly a terrible, frigid mien about him.

In fact, Edward could swear that he saw condensation gathering on the wine glasses. He was reminded eerily of the presence of dementors from back during the war.

"I am sure that a wizard of your skill and stature will be able to turn around the fortunes of his House with little issue. I hear that you are financing the opening of a new clothes store, do you think you will be able to compete with such established businesses as Madam Malkin's and Twilfit and Tattings?" Edward said, trying to deflect the conversation to something less dangerous.

"I won't have to, it will be an altogether different type of clothing store."

Looking over at the escort that Potter brought, Edward couldn't disagree. That dress and what Potter was wearing was nothing like anything sold in either of those two stores. Had Narcissa worn something so bold in a different set of circumstances she would have been called a whore, but nobody was going to risk Potter's anger by calling her that out loud, even if Edward suspected it would have been an accurate appellation.

Narcissa had in fact come to him and his wife for help in the wake of Lucius' death and been turned away exactly because they hadn't wanted to bring Potter's attention to them. What a cruel irony that they had Potter's attention anyway, now with the addition of Narcissa whispering poison into his ear for turning her away. That was why his wife was now with the blonde witch that had been her friend not so long ago, gushing over the dress and being generally ingratiating.

"I wish you the best of luck in your venture." Edward said, though he didn't really mean it. He hated the muggleness of the clothing that was likely going to be sold there. Too bad that with Potter endorsing it, it was likely to be a success no matter what.

"Thank you, but getting back to the vineyard, I must ask how you acquired yours? Who knows, I might get one in a similar way."

Edward twitched at the powerful young wizard's persistence. That unnerving frigidness was still there and there was something disquieting in Potter's eye. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. He wanted to lie, say that it had been in his family for generations, but it was too easy to verify and he suspected that Potter already knew anyway. The questions were just a little too pointed.

"I bought it from another family during the war against You-Know-Who." He said, avoiding any mention of it being the Potter family.

"With all the trouble Voldemort was causing back then, it must have been quite the _steal_."

Edward flinched at the casual use of the Dark Lord's name, but he felt his blood freeze at the feel of the air. Potter was somehow still managing to project no threat in his voice or body language, but his presence was murderous, like a great black wyrm looming over him with jaws opened wide. It was like the old terror of kneeling before the Dark Lord and knowing that you had displeased him.

Edward once again lamented his foolishness in taking the Dark Mark. He'd been so young and full of outrage at the mudbloods polluting their world, so impatient to strike back at them. His idealistic view of the Dark Lord as a champion of the old ways had not survived long.

He also lamented this situation. It had seemed so perfect at the time. The Dark Lord was after the Potters, so they were sure to be dead soon. What was the harm in appropriating their business for himself, especially since that fool James Potter pushed all responsibility on his manager? Other Death Eaters had done much the same with other families. Lucius Malfoy had been especially crafty about it and enriched himself greatly on the misfortunes of his victims.

But Lucius was dead now, dead at the hand of the powerful young wizard that now smiled at him with eyes colder than the deepest winter. The wizard who had survived the Dark Lord instead of dying as he'd been supposed to.

The wizard that he had stolen from. It might be legal, but it had been theft. Lucius' death had also been legal, but everyone knew it had been murder.

"I did get it for much less than it was worh." Edward admitted with as much calm as he could muster.

"How _fortunate_ for you."

Finally, there was a threat in Potter's voice. Something that implied that something _unfortunate_ might happen to him soon. Was his breath misting as it exited his mouth?

Edward had a decision to make now. He could fight to keep what he'd stolen for himself or he could return it. The law was on his side, but he had no idea what Potter was capable of. This wasn't like dealing with Dumbledore, who could always be relied on to back down instead of starting a war. No, Potter was a different sort of beast.

Edward didn't want to risk it, didn't want to end up like Lucius. "Tell you what, Lord Potter, allow me to present you with a gift to celebrate you ascension to adulthood. I would give you my vineyard."

"Are you sure? That's quite the extravagant gift." Potter said. He sounded like he was trying to fake surprise, but his words were too cold. His eyes were too cold. His breath was too cold. Why was everything so bloody _cold_?

"I'm sure, it's the least I can do for the one who saved us from the Dark Lord."

"Well if you put it like that, then how could I refuse?"

The dementor-like chill slowly faded from the air and Edward relaxed a little bit, only to tense again as Potter rolled his neck and produced an almost cadaverous cracking sound, like old bones and stiff leather being moved after ages of inactivity. It was beyond creepy and Edward didn't relax until he was alone again.

He reached for the wine bottle with shaky hands, a bottle that had come from the vineyard he'd just given away in fact. It was too cold.

Edward Parkinson shivered. There was something deeply wrong about Potter.

XXXXX

Harry stalked out of the ballroom and onto the adjoining balcony, taking deep breaths as he fought to regain his balance.

Too much Dark and no Sun in the sky to counteract it. His lungs, kidneys, liver and intestines felt frozen inside his body, affected by his runes as they were. And the rest of him didn't feel especially warm either.

He needed to see the stars, needed to force back the chill grip of the Void. Parkinson had no idea how close he'd just come to dying there. Harry had gotten back what had been stolen from his family, but by the end of that conversation, he'd barely cared about it at all. What he'd really wanted to do was snuff out the spark of life and magic in front of him and make it one with the Dark.

He looked at the stars and pulled on their distant Light, feeling the chill recede. Not as strong as the Sun, but at least he felt alive again instead of like the walking dead.

He sensed a familiar presence nearby, one that he had ignored in his rush.

"I see I'm not the only one that needed a break from the festivities." She said.

"Madam Bones." Harry greeted, turning towards her. "I would have thought you'd be used to it after all these years of having to attend." As a high ranking Ministry official, her attendance was mandatory.

"Used to it?" Amelia grimaced. "Maybe, but I've always hated it."

Harry suspected that she hated all the Death Eaters walking around rather more than the actual party, though he would certainly understand if she hated both.

"I've never been much for parties either. I wouldn't even be here if Narcissa hadn't convinced me that I should attend." He admitted.

"I'm surprised that you would listen to her advice." Amelia could easily imagine a woman like Narcissa taking up with her husband's killer, but Potter actually accepting her seemed strange.

"She has her uses." Harry shrugged.

Amelia raised an eyebrow and looked back into the ballroom where the blonde witch was currently the focus of a great deal of attention.

"Such as promoting your business interests?"

"Among other things."

Amelia wondered about these other things. Dirt on certain people of interest? Death Eaters and their ilk were a clannish sort by necessity, but Narcissa might well be willing to sell them out to save her own hide. She'd seen Potter talking to Parkinson just now and noticed how tense the man was. She'd also noticed how suspiciously empty the area around them had been.

Or perhaps Potter meant more carnal uses. That seemed to be the prevailing opinion that everyone had, but which nobody would openly admit to. Kill a man and take his widow as a mistress...a lot of the people attending this party seemed to be impressed by the ruthlessness implied in that when they should be worried instead.

Odd that a barely fifteen-year-old wizard would have a reputation as something of a womanizer, but every rumor seemed to agree on that. Susan had written to her about it too, though Amelia knew how rumors could get inflated.

"Harry?" Fudge blundered in then, interrupting any further conversation.

"Cornelius." Harry said, trying not to sigh as he felt the almost palpable drop in IQ. Fudge had been going around all evening, seemingly trying to talk to as many people as possible and making a general nuisance of himself. Truly, the man was staying on as Minister of Magic solely on the merit of being easy to bribe.

"I thought I saw you coming out here...oh, Amelia." Fudge finally noticed the other person, looking as if he'd swallowed a lemon.

"I needed to get a breath of fresh air." Harry said. "Was there something you wanted?"

"Uh, no, I just wanted to make sure you were alright." Fudge said.

"I'm perfectly fine." Harry replied dismissively. "Madam Bones and I were just discussing her department."

Amelia raised an eyebrow at the blatant lie, but didn't contradict him.

"The DMLE is doing perfectly fine." Fudge blustered.

"All things considered it is indeed doing fine, but I'm worried about the lack of recruits for the aurors coming in. The Hogwarts Potions professor isn't the best of teachers and his strict demands for NEWT students are limiting the amount of people eligible for that career. I was just about to suggest to Madam Bones that she start offering remedial Potions lessons for prospective aurors to offset that difficulty."

Amelia would have done that, but she barely had enough of a budget to pay what aurors she did have. She'd already stripped as much funding as she could from all the less important sub-departments to achieve even that much.

"I'm afraid that the DMLE doesn't have the budget for something like that." She said, flicking her eyes over to the cause of that lack.

"The DMLE gets enough funding!" Fudge snapped, his paranoia acting up.

"Did Malfoy tell you that?" Harry asked mildly. "A criminal and a Death Eater not wanting law enforcement to be well funded, imagine that."

Fudge did an impression of a fish.

"If I were you, Cornelius, I would think carefully about any advice that Lucius Malfoy gave you in the past. After all, it reflects poorly on you as Minister of Magic to have the largest and most important department in the Ministry so poorly taken care of."

"I'll...I'll think about it." Fudge said and all but ran away.

"I think you broke him." Amelia commented.

"He's just a little confused and looking for a new master to hold his leash." Harry replied faux compassionately.

Amelia snorted in amusement, surprised that he'd say that so openly.

"Why are you trying to convince him to properly fund the DMLE?" She asked.

"I want it more than just properly funded, I want it to be overfunded. You'll find yourself getting something extra from me in the DMLE Gringotts vault as well." Harry had little compunction about redirecting some his wizarding money there. Not only would he now have a reliable income, but it was also hard to value it when it was all legally owned by the damn goblins. He wouldn't throw it away carelessly, but he wasn't overly attached to it either. The costs of living as a wizard were surprisingly low and he had plenty of regular money from selling off the Blacks antique furniture.

"Why? What do you get out of this?" Amelia demanded. This type of generosity was usually followed by a suggestion that would be both illegal and beneficial to the donator, but it had been a long time indeed since anyone had tried to bribe her.

"Because I have the feeling that there's trouble brewing and that I'll be expected to take care of it by myself if the DMLE doesn't have the manpower to do it." Harry said ominously.

"What kind of trouble?" Amelia asked suspiciously.

"An old evil stubbornly refusing to die. Train up as many aurors as you can and I'll consider it money well spent."

Amelia stared after him as he went back inside, frowning. What had that been about? She had a bad feeling about the future all of a sudden. Well at least it looked like she was finally going to get some proper funding and the Auror Office was never supposed to operate on the skeleton crew that it currently had anyway.

XXXXX

It was well after midnight when the ball was finally over and Harry had long since reached the end of his patience with people by then. He'd retreated to a quiet spot and left Narcissa to it for the most part, knowing that he couldn't just decide that they were leaving if he wanted to achieve what he wanted.

He was rather baffled by her enjoyment of this sort of thing, but then he'd always been baffled by it. She still had a bright smile on her face by the time they left.

"I had a good time tonight." Narcissa said once they were back at Malfoy Manor, Harry having escorted her back home.

"At least one of us did." He replied wryly.

"There's still time for you to have a good time." She said suggestively, cupping his crotch. "And you did promise to help me out of my dress."

"That I did."

XXXXX

 _December 2nd._

A raven landed on the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower and transformed into a man shortly afterwards.

Harry smiled as he looked around at what was arguably his favorite spot in Hogwarts, but there was no time for nostalgia. He quickly pulled the Cloak of Dark out of his Bag of Holding and wrapped it around himself, proceeding to glide unseen through the hallways on silence charmed feet.

It was time for the evening meal, so the hallways were empty and he made it to his destination undisturbed. The locking spell on the door presented no issue either. Now it was just a matter of waiting for his prey to arrive.

XXXXX

Septima made her way back to her quarters after the evening meal, wondering if she had the energy to look over a few homework assignments or if a bath and then bed beckoned. She probably should, or else they would just pile up.

All her plans for the evening went out the window almost as soon as she set foot into her room and she was grabbed from behind. Her terrified scream was muffled by the hand clamped over he mouth and the struggle that she could put up with her unimpressive physical stature were easily subdued by the much stronger man.

"Hello, Septima." A familiar voice purred and Septima became aware that the hand over her mouth didn't feel normal. It was covered in scar tissue.

"Miss me?" Harry asked.

Septima couldn't reply verbally on account of the hand still clamped over her mouth, but she did drive her elbow into his gut to demonstrate what she felt about this stunt of his. It didn't hurt him at all since she had neither the strength nor the leverage for it, but that wasn't the point. Her heart still felt as if it was trying to smash through her ribcage.

"Ooh, so feisty. Do you want to play a game?" He whispered into her ear.

Septima inhaled sharply through her nose as her body clenched with sudden arousal, the punding of her heart only excerbating the situation.

Harry was back and he wanted to play.

Septima found herself nodding before she could give it any more thought.

"Alright, let's play." He murmured and she felt him rummaging around in his pockets.

He seemed to find whatever he was searching for and removed his right hand from her mouth. Septima opened her mouth to ask how he'd managed to sneak into Hogwarts, only to have a rubber ball shoved into her mouth before she could say a word.

Shocked at the sudden gagging, she tried to bring her hands up to remove the obstruction only to have them seized.

"None of that now, the ballgag stays." Harry said. "We wouldn't want the whole school to hear you screaming after all."

Septima's breathing quickened as she realised that she couldn't force the ball out of her mouth with just her tongue. _Must be cursed_. It quickened further when Harry forced both her wrists to the small of her back and placed what felt like leather restraints on them.

A short struggled confirmed that her hands were now bound and Septima felt herself moistening with excitement.

The way he took a fistfull of her hair, marched her over to her desk and forced her to bend over it only increased her excitement.

 _This is it, he's going to hike up my robes and fuck me over my own desk while I'm tied up, gagged and helpless._ The thought had her whimpering into the gag. She had no idea why he'd come back, but she was glad.

To her shock, instead of hiking up her robes, he took two firm grips at hip level and then ripped them open. The unexpected violence of the action had her heart returning to its previous pounding rhythm.

"Oh my, no panties? You naughty girl." Harry said and Septima felt her face burn. Yes, she had been foregoing panties lately to make her day more exciting. The thought of getting caught...

"And I see you're making good use of my present." He said and pushed on it.

Septima's eyes widened even as she moaned in pleasure. She'd forgotten about the buttplug! She'd found that she enjoyed going around plugged so much that it had barely left her arsehole save to re-apply lubricant. The thought that someone might catch her wearing it might also have something to do with it, but it had become such a normal part of her life by now that she'd forgotten about it in the excitement.

"I wonder, did you ever find someone else to play with?"

The question had Septima flushing so much that she thought he must be seeing the effects all the way down to her rear end. She was too embarrassed to answer.

"I asked you a question." He punctuated the prompt with a smack across her bottom that had her yelping into the gag.

"Nuh-uh!" She gurgled quickly to avoid another.

"Chickened out, did you?" He chuckled and she flushed again. Yes, she had essentially chickened out. There were a few boys in sixth and seventh year that would have made an adequate enough replacement for Harry, at least in looks, but she hadn't been brave enough to make a move on them. She'd dropped some hints that they could have her, but either they weren't brave enough to act on them either or she'd been too subtle. Either way, there had been no playtime for Septima Vector this school term.

Another smack had her yelping again. "That was also a question."

"Uh-huh!"

"You're being a very bad girl, Septima." He scolded. "Do you even want to play?"

Her eyes widened again and she hastened to reassure him that she really, _really_ did. "Uh-huh!"

"Alright, but I think you need to be punished first. Do you think you need to be punished?"

Septima had no idea what kind of punishment he had in mind, but it had to be better than a premature end to the playtime. Besides, this was new and exciting and she wanted to see what he'd do. "Uh-huh."

"Get ready then." He said and she stiffened as she felt a broad, flat, wooden surface being laid across her buttocks. Was he seriously going to spank her? With a paddle?

The assumed paddle was removed and her breathing came in quick pants at the expected blow. _Any second now..._

When it finally came, she screamed around the ball in her mouth as the force of it shook her entire body. To her great surprise though, it didn't hurt nearly as much as she had expected. It still stung, but a blow that strong should have made her arse feel like it had been set on fire.

She was more prepared for the second blow, though it still made her grunt her discomfort into the ballgag. There had to be a cushioning charm or something on the paddle to keep it from doing any real harm, but the strength behind the blows still caused her whole body to shake.

By the third blow, she was becoming excruciatingly aware of how she clenched around the buttblug every time she was struck.

The paddling continued and Septima's yelps turned into moans. Streams of sexual juices ran down her legs from her neglected fanny, which was clenching around empty air as if jealous of the buttplug stuffing her bowels. The buttplug that was doing wonderful things to her with every jarring smack.

Several long minutes later, Septima tensed for another blow that never came. Her bottom stung painfully from the abuse, but her nether lips were soaked with arousal. The sudden lack of activity had her wiggling on the desk in an attempt to catch a glimpse of what he was going to do next, but she didn't attempt to actually get off the desk.

Then came the clink of a belt being undone and she tensed expectantly, spreading her legs a little bit to give him better access. She needn't have bothered however, as he decided to press on the buttplug again.

Septima moaned in response. With the amount of anal orgasms she'd given herself over the past few months, that was every bit as erogenous a zone as her vagina. In some ways even more because of how excitingly perverse it was. Then he pulled it out and she nearly orgasmed then and there from sheer excitement combined with the arousal of the spanking.

"What a lovely stretched hole you have. It'd be a shame to leave it unused." Harry said, applying a generous quantity of lubricant.

Septima started taking deep breaths as she felt him rub his crown into her anal opening, knowing that penetration was only seconds away.

When it finally came, it still took her by surprise. She'd expected him to gently slide in, but instead he rammed himself in so roughly that she screamed around the ball in her mouth. She could accomodate him easily with the amount of time she kept the buttplug in there, but her butt cheeks were still stinging from the paddling and that had hurt.

...but it also felt _so good_.

Her feelings on the matter were irrelevant in any case apparently, as Harry began a punishing tempo that had her crying out helplessly with every thrust until she was rubbing her cheek into a puddle of drool that had trickled out of her mouth due to the ballgag.

Not even a minute into this, he grabbed her hair and started pulling on it.

It was too much. Harry sneaking into her quarters and scaring her half to death, gagging and tying her, bending her over the desk and spanking her with a paddle, starting to fuck her arse without giving her a chance to say no and now pulling on her hair like this.

Septima came hard,wailing into the ballgag and reflexively squeezing his member in the throes of orgasm.

But Harry had only gotten started and wasn't even close to finishing yet. He also paid no attention to her climax and continued to pound into her.

Septima was too wrung out to have another orgasm, but she still enjoyed the feeling of her rectum used so commandingly. When Harry eventually discharged his hot load into her bowels, she clenched as tightly as possible, wanting to help him squeeze out every last drop.

"You are as delightful as ever, Septima." He sighed in pleasure as he pulled out, making her smile around the ball gag. Then he started undoing the bindings on her hands. "Come on, let's get cleaned up and then we can get to the _other_ reason that I came to see you."

Septima was intrigued. The surprise visit was already the highlight of her week, but this sounded promising. She smiled all the way to the bathroom despite needing Harry's help to get there.

XXXXX

"Fleur and I have been working on this for a few months now and we can't find any reason for it not to work, but it just doesn't." Harry was saying, gesturing at a stone cube and four mirrors.

"This is some impressive Arithmancy work." Septima praised, looking over the notes he'd brought with him.

"Do you think you can help us out?" Harry asked.

"I'll need some time to look it over...can you leave these with me and come back next week?"

Harry smirked at her. "No problem. Do you want me to bring a riding crop or a cat o' nine tails this time?"

Septima flushed, but she didn't look away. "Are those supposed to be a reward for success or a punishment for failure?"

"That'll be up to you."

XXXXX

 _December 9th._

"The arithmancy checks out, based on that alone your project should work. I think that your problem is in the material of the nexus."

Harry frowned thoughtfully. He and Fleur had been so focused on getting the enchantment right that they hadn't considered that.

Stone was good for anchoring wards, but it was true that it was rigid. Metal was completely self-contained. Cloth would never be able to hold the power. Wood funneled magic but was crap at holding it, which was what made it excellent for use as magic foci and utterly useless here.

"So you're saying that I need a material that can funnel magic like wood and hold it like stone?" He asked.

"That would be my best guess." Septima nodded, privately impressed that he had figured it out so quickly. "Unfortunately, I can't think of a single enchanted item that has ever needed something like that, so you'll have to experiment on your own. I'm not even sure if a material like that exists."

"Even if it doesn't, you've been very helpful."

"Helpful enough for a special reward?"

"Oh yes."

XXXXX

 _December 10th._

"Penny, I've got a special project for you."

Penny looked at her employer and wondered what it was going to be this time. A research project on the migratory patterns of magical species perhaps? "What kind of project?"

"I need you to acquire samples of various materials. Start with anything that has the characteristics of both wood and stone, but don't confine yourself to just that. I want samples of as many artificial materials that science has made possible as you can get as well as any exotic naturally occuring ones."

Penny simply stared at him. "Harry, there have to be _thousands_ of each."

"I know, it's going to be a bitch to find the right one."

XXXXX

 _Christmas, Vienna._

Harry sighed as he looked into the bathroom mirror and dried himself off. Adrastia had come to collect him quite a bit earlier than he had expected and told him to get ready while she fetched his clothes.

The large house in Vienna that she had brought him to was surprisingly ordinary. If not for the subtle enchantments that encouraged people not to pay attention ot it, he'd never have guessed that it belonged to a witch. Yet another question mark added to the riddle that was Adrastia Zabini.

Once he was completely dry and had forced his hair into submission through the use of the usual spellwork, he stepped out of the bathroom and into the room she had assigned him for the very short duration of his stay.

He blinked in surprise as the sight of the clothes laid out for him on the bed. Black pants, black suit jacket, white shirt, black tie. How utterly...mundane. He'd been expecting to be eye candy and a status symbol for Adrastia to brag with in front of her non-British aquintances or something like that, but now he was no longer sure. He wasn't a celebrity outside the magical world after all.

It had been a while since Harry had worn anything like this, but he slipped into it easily enough, even remembering how to properly tie a tie. The measurements were almost right and the minor mistakes easily taken care of by a small bit of transfiguration so that the suit looked tailor made.

Now to find Adrastia and maybe get some answers.

She was waiting for him in the foyer, dressed in a mid-thigh length Chinese silk dress of all things. It looked good on her though, black with red decorations. It was also somewhat modified, as it was missing a substantial amount of chest fabric so as to expose a good bit of cleavage. The ensemble was topped off with a pair of high heeled shoes and diamond earrings.

"You look so good in that suit that I'm tempted to just keep you to myself for the rest of the night." Adrasta said with a sultry smile when she caught sight of him.

"You don't look bad yourself." Harry replied dryly.

"What a stingy compliment." She chided.

"I didn't think you needed the ego boost." He riposted.

"It still would have been nice of you."

"I've been reliably informed that I'm not nice."

"Fine then, be that way." Adrastia pouted playfully. "I have the Portkey ready, so let's be off."

"You still haven't told me where we're going." Harry said as he stepped next to her and took hold of the simple bit of rope that glowed to his sight with the signature enchantment of a Portkey.

"You will see." She said with a mysterious smile.

XXXXX

The Portkey deposited them in yet another foyer, though this one was bigger than the one they had just left behind.

"Ah, Adrastia, right on time." A pleasant looking woman that had apparently been waiting for them greeted. She was brown-haired and brown-eyed, with pale skin and fine but not stunningly beautiful features.

"Hello, Zuzanna, it's so good to see you again." Adrastia said back and went to give their greeter a hug with every sign of genuine pleasure.

"And this must be the man you were bragging about so much." Zuzanna said, looking Harry over. "I see you weren't exaggerating. He looks _delicious._ "

Harry said nothing in reply, simply staring at the woman. Her name had a Slavic ring to it, but he barely registered that. She was dressed in a flattering black cocktail dress, but he didn't really notice that either. No, all his attention was consumed by her aura. It was hungry Dark.

Adrastia quickly moved back to his side and took hold of his right hand. "Calm down, Harry. There is no danger here."

Harry looked at her and realised that he had been prepared to lash out with lethal spells.

"I will go tell our host that you've arrived." Zuzanna said, apparently unperturbed.

"Where the fuck did you bring me?" Harry hissed at Adrastia once they were alone.

"A friendly gathering, as I said." She replied.

Harry took a deep breath to calm down. He hated surprises. "What was that woman?"

Adrastia saw that he wasn't in the mood for games and decided to be straightforward. "A vampire."

Harry stared back for a long few moments, thinking. Every book he'd ever read on vampires painted them as vicious, bloodthirsty monsters, but he'd long since learned not to trust the opinions of British, or indeed any, wizards. A sheep's opinion of a steak was often more accurate.

So if he disregarded everything he'd ever read on vampires, he was left with his own brief observations. this Zuzanna had shown no aggression and seemed to be on good terms with Adrastia, something that he realised was not necessarily reassuring. Still, his own aura had Dark in it and he managed not to be an indiscriminate killer despite feeling the urge whenever he drew too deeply on it.

He would give vampires as a whole the benefit of the doubt. Still, he regretted not making himself an emergency Portkey for this, a mistake he wouldn't be repeating again.

"Any other surprises I should be aware of?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"The host is also a vampire and there may be a couple of werewolves here, but other than that, no." Adrastia said cheerfully, glad of his acceptance. "Now come on."

Harry tried not to scowl too much as he allowed himself to be led away. At least there wasn't going to be any ridiculous heralds announcing their entrance this time.

True to Adrastia's words, there was nothing too shocking waiting for him. A few wizards and witches with racial backgrounds ranging from Asian to African, though their actual nationality was impossible to determine. A trio of werewolves whose inner wolves felt much stronger than Lupin's. There was even a couple of non-magicals.

All of them were wearing suits and dresses instead of robes. It might just be the fact that this wasn't Backwards Britain, but Harry somehow doubted it. He saw no sign of their supposedly vampiric host.

Harry let himself be led around and introduced to some of the people, but escaped into a corner at the first opportunity, covering himself in a mild aversion spell. Despite Adrastia's reassurance that there was no danger here, he felt on edge. He hated surprises.

He had the feeling that some of the people present weren't affected by his attempt to magically redirect their attention, notably the werewolves and vampiress, but they didn't approach him, for which he was duly grateful.

What was the point of bringing him here? And what the fuck was even going on? He knew that vampires and werewolves had it bad even in the more progressive magical countries in Europe, the ancient prejudices still holding on. Nobody wanted to be a werewolf and there were too few of them to make a difference. As for the vampires...well, they were known to exist but they didn't interact much with wizards and witches.

This one seemed to be downright genial though and the werewolves were odd as well. Lupin had looked so broken down and tired but these three looked anything but. Two men in suits and woman in a dress...Harry almost felt as if he should be calling them males and a female, all three of them nearly glowed with a sort of feral strength. He'd be tempted to try bedding the woman if he didn't know that Lycanthropy could be sexually transmitted. It was the only way to become a werewolf aside from being bitten by a transformed one in fact. Werewolves would have gone extinct centuries ago if they had to rely on their victims surviving an attack to propagate.

The mysterious host finally showed up after fifteen or so minutes. He was a big man, both taller and broader than Harry, though not by much. His skin was pale, his eyes blue and his short hair and neat beard a dull gold. His aura too was hungry Dark.

"My friends, I am glad that you could make it." The mysterious vampire said. "I will be with you soon, but first I do believe we have a newcomer among us."

Everyone looked right at Harry and he had to tamp down on the instinct to bristle threateningly. Adrastia quickly made her way back to him and then led him towards big vampire.

"Harry, this is Bjomolf." She introduced. "Bjomolf, this is Harry Potter."

"Good evening." Bjomolf greeted with a smile that showed perfectly normal human teeth. "I've heard many interesting things about you from Adrastia here, though I must admit that my favorite was the way you killed that Malfoy fellow. Forbidden Sun, heh."

Harry had the distinct feeling that this man...vampire knew exactly where he'd gotten the name from.

"And I've heard nothing at all about you." He said instead of commenting on that, throwing a glare at his date.

"This is a perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other then." The vampire said easily. "I'm sure Adrastia won't mind if we retire to my study for a while."

"Of course." She said and left Harry alone with what was presumably a very dangerous individual.

"Right this way, Lord Potter." Bjomolf said, gesturing for Harry to follow him.

 _At least he's not asking me to walk in front of him._ Harry consoled himself. He wasn't sure his nerves could have survived that experience.

They made it to the study without issue and Bjomolf gesture for him to sit in one of the chairs.

"Drink?" He offered, opening what was presumably a liqueur cabinet.

"No thanks." Harry said.

Bjomolf shrugged and poured himself something amber colored, then he sat in a chair opposite to Harry and smiled with inhumanly long, pointed canines.

Harry tensed.

"Merry Christmas, Bratan."

XXXXX

 **I dedicate the buttfucking scene with Septima to jwagne51, who was disappointed that I didn't describe it the last time. It would have been there anyway, but I never expected that I'd have an opportunity to dedicate an anal sex scene to someone xD. I hope you enjoyed it, man(or woman).**


	28. Chapter 28

**This chapter came a bit slower for several reasons, but mostly because I had to keep adjusting things. The next one should come faster.**

 **Joe Lawyer's beta services continue to be invaluable. Milennial, Elmoryakhan and anand891996 also get honorable mentions for help with some of the mythology I needed to consult for this one. I didn't end up actually _using_ a lot of the information they provided, but it was still very useful.**

XXXXX

 _"Merry Christmas, Bratan."_

Harry was far too stunned to reply or even notice that the vampire was grinning at him widely, obviously enjoying the effect of his words.

His mind was cast back to several years ago, when he had gotten bitched out for posting pieces of Arithmancy problems online. That conversation had nagged at him with many unanswered questions, but he'd never expected to actually have them answered.

"You..." He finally managed, not really sure where to begin or what to say.

"No, actually not me." Bjomolf admitted. "The one you spoke to was a subordinate, but I was informed of your conversation."

"And you've been, what? Keeping an eye on me all this time?" Harry demanded.

"Once again, no. I had no idea that it was you that my man spoke with and had in fact waved the event off as a precocious newblood thinking they were being clever. It wasn't until you reacted to the code phrase just now that I was able to confirm it."

Harry took a deep breath and used his hard won skill with Occlumency to master himself. He needed his wits about him here. "Code phrase?"

"Any time that one of us speaks to a person of interest a code phrase is inserted into the conversation. Something difficult to forget but also unobtrusive, which is why we are meeting on Christmas. The man you spoke to isn't even Russian."

"I see." Harry said, his mind working at a furious pace. He'd apparently stumbled into something big. Big and secret. Adrastia had no doubt been sharing what she knew about him as well, making it easier for these people to identify him. Her knowledge of his runes combined with the fragments that could be gleaned from the arithmancy equations he'd posted online would be enough. "You said 'us'?"

Bjomolf smiled at him. "As you may have surmised, we are a group of those who do not particularly fit in with either the magical world or the mundane one."

Hadn't Adrastia mentioned something like this once? "Like Adrastia?"

"Indeed."

"And she suggested that I would fit in with you?" There had certainly been enough hints on the topic that only now made sense.

"That's why you're here."

"And if I don't want to?"

"We will not try to kill you if that is your concern. You are both too high profile and too potentially useful for that."

Ah, so they weren't averse to killing people to maintain secrecy. Not really much of a surprise, but it didn't make Harry feel very safe either. He would like to say that he could fight his way out of this if he had to, but he was in enemy territory and surrounded by people whose abilities he didn't know, not a good situation for anyone.

"What does this group of yours even do?" He asked suspiciously.

Bjomolf gave a lopsided smirk. "Survive."

Harry blinked. "What?"

The vampire sighed and rose from his chair, walking over to the window overlooking the city.

"The world is a different place than it was when I was still human, so very different." He said wistfully.

"When was that anyway?" Harry interjected curiously.

Bjomolf turned around and grinned a bit, the almost sadly philosophical air around him dissipating for a moment. "I was a Viking raider when Eric Weatherhat was King at Uppsala."

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He'd figured something Norse due to the name, but that was a bit further back than he'd expected. Eric Weatherhat was known to be a wizard, though not in the modern sense of the word. He'd come across a few mentions of him while researching historical magic users that hadn't been trained in a school like Hogwarts. "Late 9th century Sweden?"

"Those were the days." Bjomolf said nostalgically. "I was technically royalty myself, you know? A grandson to King Björn Ironside through a bastard daughter."

"Never heard of you." Harry said bluntly.

The vampire deflated a bit even as he chuckled. "You wouldn't have, not after the ignoble end I had."

Harry raised an inquiring eyebrow.

Bjomolf seemed almost eager to share as he launched into the story. "It was my first raid. I was to lead an attack on a small coastal town to prove myself capable. My men and I decided to attack at night for maximum surprise and easily overwhelmed the understrength guards, the town was ours for the taking."

"What went wrong?" Harry asked when the vampire paused, seemingly lost in thought.

Bjomolf smiled wryly. "A vampiress happened to be living there at the time and didn't appreciate having her little feeding ground pillaged. My raiding party was hunted down to the last man before the Sun came up and I was taken captive. Let me tell you, there is nothing quite so humbling as being used as a portable blood bag for a few years."

Harry snorted in amusement. Yes, that did sound humbling.

"I tried to escape of course, but Larentia was much older and more clever than the hotheaded warrior I used to be. I eventually became so attached to her that I didn't even want to leave anymore, Stockholm Syndrome they would call it these days. Seven years into this, she offered to Turn me and I accepted."

Harry thought about that for a moment and wondered what was involved in the Turning of a wizard or witch into a vampire. He dismissed the notion that a non-magical could be Turned out of hand. Lycanthropy needed magic too and this aura couldn't come without innate magic.

He wanted to ask what the Turning entailed, but knew better than to think he would get an answer. There were other questions that he might get an answer too though.

"Can you still do magic?" The books said no, that vampires were magical creatures with their own set of abilities, but books were written by people and people were full of crap.

"I never even knew I had the potential for it when I was human." Bjomolf admitted.

"That wasn't what I asked."

"I know."

That probably meant that the answer was more complicated than a simple yes or no. Given what he knew about the Dark and the general working of magic...

"You regain it temporarily after drinking magical blood, don't you?" The Dark would drain the magic out of them over time, which also meant that vampires needed magical blood to survive.

Bjomolf gave him an appraising look. "You are a clever one, aren't you? But I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything else from a Brother in Darkness."

That rattled Harry's composure. "Brother in Darkness?"

"There is no need to hide it." Bjomolf smiled and for the first time, Harry glimpsed the dangerous thing hidden beneath the civilized and charismatic veneer. "I see the runes carved into your flesh and sense the Dark in your soul."

"Ah." Was all Harry could say. He'd never considered that _Arhain_ might be less than effective against a vampire.

"When I heard from Adrastia what you've done to yourself, I wasn't sure whether to be impressed by your determination, astounded by your recklessness or baffled by your survival. Everything I know tells me that you should be dead or worse."

"Why?"

"People have made offerings to Light and Dark for thousands of years, most often in the guise of religion. Always there were gods of light and darkness, or spirits and demons at least, with which ancient magi made pacts and drew power from. We know better now, we know that there are no gods, but Light and Dark are very real. To my knowledge, no one has ever made pacts with both and lived, especially not in the blind, blundering way that you did it. Either there is something very special about you , or you have the most absurd luck in existence."

Harry immediately thought back to the soul fragment that had been stuck in his head. He was reasonably sure that the dementors had attacked him that day on the train because of it. With the benefit of greater knowledge and retrospect, he knew that the killing of Pettigrew had counted as a sacrifice to the Dark and opened the metaphorical gates. What would have happened to him if he had been unable to dislodge that soul fragment and let the Dark have it?

Then again, it could actually have been sheer dumb luck that he'd survived. Harry supposed that he would never know for sure.

"I always wondered about those gods." He said instead of commenting on his unlikely survival. "A shame they got displaced, even if they're not real. At least they weren't completely useless like the Bible God."

"You think the rise of Christianity was happenstance?" Bjomolf laughed. "Silly cults just like it cropped up like weeds back in those days, practically every time that someone with magical potential figured out how to do a few tricks to impress the gullible. Most of them vanished without fanfare, so what made Christianity so special? Nothing at all...expect for the vampire agents that helped spread it and whispered a suggestion into Emperor Constantine's and later Emperor Theodosius' ears that maybe they should make it the official religion of the Roman Empire."

"But why?!" Harry burst out, genuinely angered by that juicy bit of information. The gods of the ancient world might not have been real, but the One God of the Abrahamic religions was utterly hollow and worthless.

Bjomolf didn't take offense at his tone and merely sat back down into the chair he'd vacated earlier.

"Because, Harry, the worshippers of the solar deities were a problem for us. Drunk on the power they drew from the Sun, they had no tolerance for any darkness and were dangerous to us. From the wizard-priests of Apollo and Ra to the warmages of Rome's Sol Invictus, the Order of the Unconquered Sun, they were our greatest enemies across all of history. A few tweaks to make Christianity villify magic and we had a good way to get rid of them, though I doubt anyone expected it to get as out of hand as it did."

Harry rubbed his forehead and let out an unhappy sigh. He understood the logic, but to think that the diverse mythology of yore had been replaced by cross-toting imbeciles because the vampires wanted to cripple their enemies...

"What about Judaism and Islam?" He asked.

"I don't know." Bjomolf admitted. "Much was lost over the centuries, I only know what I do because Larentia was a Roman involved in promoting Christianity. Judaism went through enough changes and contains enough suspect material that there might have been one or more of us manipulating things, but it's impossible to say one way or another. Islam was almost certainly free of direct vampiric manipulation though."

"Why's that?" Harry asked curiously.

"Because of its location. There hasn't been any vampire presence in the space between Egypt and India since long before Islam showed up."

"Why?"

"You sure do ask 'why?' a lot." Bjomolf noted with amusement.

"I don't like unanswered questions." Harry replied simply.

"Well the answer to this question is a bit of a history lesson. Would you like the short version or the long version?"

"Long version please."

"You're lucky that I enjoy telling stories." The vampire smirked. "You have a veela friend, yes?"

"Yes..." Harry nodded cautiously, already having a suspicion on where this was going.

"Do you know the origin of the species?"

"Lilith and her succubi daughters."

"Very good. Have you perhaps researched Lilith's mythological importance?"

Harry had indeed done that. He'd managed to pinpoint several deities and demons in the Mesopotamian area that _might_ have been references to Lilith, though the most prominent by far were the mentions of her in the Old Testament. Disregarding all the religious tripe and mentions of God, there were some very interesting mentions of her as a demonic seductress that killed men with sex. Shockingly accurate for a religious text, though he did wonder why they left out the 'killing women with sex' part. Ancient homophobia? Or maybe they just assumed that it only worked if there was penetration going on. Probably the latter. There was also something in there about her killing infants with sex, but Harry was dubious about that one. Stealing magical infants to kill them with sex once they grew up he could believe, but he was pretty sure that a succubus' 'life and magic drain through sex' thing wouldn't work on babies.

"I have, but what does this have to do with Islam being free of vampiric manipulation?"

"Lilith was not the only powerful magic user active in that time or place."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose as things started becoming clear to him. "Let me guess, the first vampire?"

"Yes, his name was Cain, or that's what he came to be known as at any rate."

Harry rolled his eyes with a snort. He wasn't even surprised that the progenitor of the vampires would end up a religious figure.

Bjomolf ignored his exasperation and continued. "We don't know if they were both still human at the same time period or what the nature of the relationship between them was, that was lost over the years, but we do know that Lilith was active in the Mesopotamian region for approximately one thousand years before her death at the hands of Gilgamesh. Cain was almost certainly born there somewhere in that time period as well."

"So Mesopotamia was now home to two different species of magical predator that both preyed on magical humans." Harry stated with a sigh.

"I see you grasp the problem. Vampires and succubi were enemies almost from the start, but too wary of each other to engage in more than the occasional one on one battle when they chose the same victim, the supply of which dwindled over time. Cain, Lilith and many of their children were killed but it was magical starvation that truly forced them to leave the area and spread out across the world. A lesson had been learned and both species adopted more restrained methods of hunting for prey after that, but the Middle East never truly recovered its magical population. The Jews and then the Muslims showing up with their intolerant views on magic made sure that it was nothing short of a miracle for the rare magic capable child to reach adulthood, but not enough of one to bring magic back to the area. And that is why Islam is almost certainly free of direct vampiric manipulation – we would have starved if we tried to operate there. It is entirely possible – likely even – that they absorbed a few of our additions from Christianity though."

"Well...that's just shit." Harry said after a long few moments. The thought of all that land being a magical dead zone was depressing to him in ways that few things could hope to be.

"It is." Bjomolf agreed. "Magic was said to have thrived in Sumer, Akkad, Babylonia and Assyria. Who knows how diffeent the world might have been if wizards and witches had not been hunted to extinction there? We've veered very far off topic though."

Harry actually had to rewind the conversation in his head to recall what exactly they had been talking about before they'd diverged into this interesting little history lesson. There had been that thing with the vampires using Christianity as a weapon, and the 'Brother in Darkness' bit before that, and Bjomolf being a thousand year old Viking vampire before that...ah, now he remembered.

"Right, you were going to tell me what you mean when you said that the goal of this secret club of yours is to survive."

"As I said, the world is different from what it once was. With our puppet religion in place and pushing out the Sun sorcerers that were causing us so much trouble and discouraging magic in general, life was good for us vampires in Christian held lands. Feeding on the untrained – or the rarer trained if one was feeling adveturous – magicals was simple enough. But then Hogwarts was built and other magic schools on its heels, leading to a dearth of easy prey. With the rise of the Ministries of Magic, we vampires suddenly found ourselves in a very difficult situation. The prey was no longer untrained and scattered, but had a full fledged society. We did not, do not and _cannot_ have the numbers to win an open conflict against an organised force, as the succubi learned to their detriment, so we had to resort to cunning. Just as wizards and witches hid their society from mundane eyes, so did we vampires hide our own from theirs, ironically within the mundane world that they came to shun. We approached wizards and witches in difficult situations and offered them deals, we would help them and they would agree to be fed upon. The whole thing has evolved a great deal since then of course, but the core idea is of cooperation for the sake of survival."

"I don't need you to survive though." Harry pointed out after chewing on that for a minute. He wondered how many muggleborns had been offered this bargain.

"There are other deals we might make, other benefits you might have from an association with us." Bjomolf said, undaunted.

"Such as?"

"The past century has been a great boon to us with its technological advancement. Our web spans the world now and you could call on allies almost anywhere if you needed them."

"And what would you want in return?"

"Nothing too onerous I assure you. Someone of your talents could help us with many things, but merely sharing your powerful blood would most likely be sufficient payment for just about anything. There are other ways you might help us if that makes you squeamish."

Harry considered it very carefully. He wasn't squeamish, so letting a vampire nibble on him in exchange for help seemed a small thing, as long as none of his blood was left lying around somewhere. He also wasn't blind to the fact that this was a rather similar arrangement to what he already had with Adrastia, which he now realised was probably a deliberate move on the manipulative woman's part to subtly influence him to accept what was being offered here.

And on that note... "Was this whole chat of ours designed to put me at ease so that I'd be more likely to accept?"

Bjomolf smiled at him widely. "Perhaps."

Harry had figured as much. For all that the vampire had told him many interesting things, all of them were entirely inconsequential to the here and now.

"Why are you trying so hard to get me on board? I don't imagine that you put in this much effort with just anyone."

"But you are not just anyone, Harry Potter." Bjomolf said with a small grin.

Harry supposed that was true.

"I understand your reluctance, this _has_ come out of nowhere for you after all." Bjomolf continued, getting up and walking over to the desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a small nondescript booklet. "Here, take this."

Harry did so and opened it, frowning at the empty booklet. "There's nothing in here."

"The Black Book contains contact information for all the master vampires in the world."

As soon as the words were spoken, the previously blank pages filled up with names, locations and contact instructions. Curiously, each was written in a different hand, as if every entry had been made by the vampire in question.

"Fidelius?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"Tricky bit of magic." A secret hidden inside the soul. Those who hadn't been told literally couldn't hold the information inside their minds. Even once told, the secret remained in a nebulous state of being known and unknown at the same time, preventing it from being shared any further. Only the Secret Keeper knew it completely. He hadn't known that a vampire could be a Secret Keeper.

"Very tricky." Bjomolf agreed.

"You'd just give me this, even without my agreement to join your secret club?" Harry asked skeptically.

"I can see that you are wary and I don't want you to think that I am trying to trap you into an unfavorable deal. As of yet, you don't know anything truly harmful to us and Adrastia has assured me that you can keep a secret. Take the Black Book and contact us if you ever find yourself in need of help."

Harry wasn't sure what to think of that. That he wasn't being told everything was a given, but Bjomolf seemed to be going out of his way to make him feel comfortable. He could literally just pretend that this never happened and have nothing more to do with the vampires and their shadowy organisation.

"Alright, thank you." He finally said, standing up.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Harry Potter." Bjomolf said with a fangy grin.

XXXXX

"How did it go?" Zuzanna asked her sire as soon as they were alone.

"He is sensibly suspicious of everything, but seems willing to keep an open mind." Bjomolf replied.

"I'm still not sure if it was wise to rush meeting him like this, despite Adrastia's assurances. You know that the others will be upset with you for going through with it over their objections. You were barely able to convince them to even consider someone so high profile."

"No doubt." The older vampire agreed. "But the opportunity was too good to pass up and we are running out of time to play it safe."

"But to give him a Black Book on the first meeting..." Zuzanna said worriedly.

"It is unorthodox, I know, but I could not treat him like an ordinary wizard and there is little risk of exposure given the amount of overlapping Fidelius Charms on it anyway. He is wary enough already and I do not want him deciding that we are more trouble than we are worth."

"But is _he_ worth it?"

"For good or ill and often regardless of their wishes, wizards like Harry Potter tend to impact the course of history. I would be deeply surprised if he is not the subject of a prophecy, but that doesn't matter. We have moved through the steps of this careful dance for a long time now, but every dance must end and I already hear the music fading. I would rather not have a sorcerer that powerful sowing chaos with every footstep if we might co-opt him instead."

XXXXX

"I hope you had an interesting time." Adrastia said as they appeared back in her home.

Harry made a non-committal grunt in response, his mind still fixed on the things he'd learned tonight.

Not the ancient history things, those were interesting but irrelevant. Rather, it was the possible motivations of the sneaky vampires that he mulled on. He could believe that they wanted to survive, but there surely had to be more to it.

Thanks to both _Da'Roir_ and his ceaseless Occlumency practice, his memory was exceptional and he could recall that long ago internet conversation in detail. Correlating it with what he had just heard from Bjomolf, Harry guessed that they must be worried about the threat of the garden variety non-magical humans. That would make sense, they must be well practiced at staying beneath the notice of the various Ministries of Magic, especially since those tended to ignore the mundane world for the most part, but it would be harder to stay completely unnoticed in the world that they actually lived in. Especially with how bureaucratically regulated everything was these days.

He could also guess that they were perhaps snatching away magical children from places like China and Russia since there were no magical communities there anymore. The guy he'd spoken to back then had said something about taking newbloods away from those areas, though there had been no mention of vampires of course.

"Come now, Harry, don't be like that." Adrastia chided, breaking him oout of his thoughts. "It took a lot of convincing on my part to get you a meeting with Bjomolf so quickly."

"And sharing things you agreed to keep secret?" Harry glowered.

"I told only Bjomolf and Zuzanna." She waved off.

"The agreement was that you wouldn't tell _anyone_."

"They would have sensed it either way." Adrastia gave him a mysterious smile. "Would you have prefered that they decide you were a threat to be removed?"

Harry blew air out of his nose with a grumble. She had an answer for everything, didn't she?

He wanted to point out that she could have just let them stay unaware of each other, but that would be silly. He would have encountered the vampires eventually even without her help, that was a near certainty.

"What do you get out of this?" He asked suspiciously.

"Well that's not really any of your business, now is it? Suffice to say that keeping an eye out for promising people is part of what I do."

"How did you get involved with them then?"

"I was approached soon after I gained my current reputation. It has been a most beneficial partnership."

"Right." Harry grunted, seeing the hint for what it was.

"You are welcome to stay the night if you wish." Adrastia offered, abruptly changing the subject. "I didn't think to tell my elves to prepare the fireplaces in any of the other rooms, but I'm sure we can both squeeze into my bed."

"I promised Fleur and Luna I'd come back as soon as I could." Harry replied blandly. It was true, but he wouldn't have accepted even without that. Adrastia was as beautiful as ever, but also seemed more dangerous now that he knew who she hung out with. The transient pleasure of fucking her wasn't worth the potential trouble it would get him into and he wasn't even in the mood anyway.

"A pity." She sighed. "I will see you some other day then."

Yes, Harry had the feeling that they would be seeing more of each other in the future. No doubt it would portend more trouble when it happened.

XXXXX

Harry had expected to find the manor dark and quiet when he came home considering the late hour. To his bemusement however, he found the warm orange glow of firelight spilling into the hallway from the sitting room.

The reason for this quickly became clear. Fleur and Luna were there, both fast asleep on the largest couch. Fleur was in what had to be an uncomfortably upright position with a book next to her and Luna's head in her lap. Both of them were dressed in their rarely used silk pajamas and had clearly been waiting for him to return.

Shaking his head in exasperation, he put the book on the closest table and went to wake his veela lover up with a kiss, knowing that she liked that.

Fleur sleepily returned the kiss at first, but then broke it off with a wince and a groan of pain, rubbing her sore neck.

"I told you not to wait for me." Harry said, amused by the stream of whispered French curses that issued from her lips. He had availed himself of that language learning magic that the Ministry offered for several languages already, French included. The new head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation had been so pleased that _the_ Harry Potter had come talk to him about it that he'd gotten that service for a pittance and there had been no need to hold back.

"Luna insisted and I did not want 'er to be alone." Fleur explained. Her accent had thinned considerably over the past few months, softening mostly into a background purr, though she did still have a little trouble with words that started with an 'H'.

"Ah." Harry nodded in understanding. Fleur had gone to spend a few hours with her parents in France and had taken Luna with her so that she wouldn't be alone in the manor, but he knew that the younger blonde had wanted to spend the day with him. Adrastia had showed up late in the afternoon, after sundown already, but it had still been a disruption to a day that he knew Luna considered to be for family. "Let's get up to bed then."

" _Oui._ "

Harry could have used magic to carry Luna to the master bedroom, but he elected not to. It wasn't like she was heavy and the way that she curled up into him was cute.

"'Ow was it?" Fleur asked once he had put Luna to bed and started undressing.

Harry let out a long sigh. How to answer that? "Not what I expected."

"Oh?"

"I'll tell you about it in the morning, you look like you're going to fall back asleep any second now." He chuckled. They'd be able to keep the vampire thing a secret, so he wasn't worried about telling them. He'd keep it from Penny and Sirius for now though.

Fleur was too tired to do anything but nod with a yawn and press her nude body up against his. Even feeling his manhood stirring at the physical contact wasn't sufficiently enticing to make her put sleep off any further.

Trapped between a sexy naked veela and a somewhat less sexy pajama-clad almost-fifteen-year-old, Harry sighed. Now he was horny and not really all that tired yet. It was a good thing that he'd taken up meditation years ago or this would have been a real problem.

XXXXX

 _January 6th._

To Harry's great surprise and pleasure, finding a suitable material for his communication mirror project did not take long at all. Petrified wood was apparently a thing and acquired easily enough in this day and age. Wizards didn't know of it because few if any ever bothered with geology and none had apparently bothered with the stuff even if they did know of it. Penny had been able to order multiple different samples of it online and it was delivered to her parents' doorstep without issue. His assistant had certainly been happy that the task had turned out to be so simple.

Of course, while Harry might have gotten his hands on the proper material to start working on, there were still problems. For one, it took him a couple of weeks to determine that the ones with high carbon content(conveniently also among the most common) were the best at holding an enchantment while still funneling the magic properly. He didn't quite know how that worked since petrified wood had no organic matter remaining, but he was eventually forced to guess that the wood-turned-stone retained an imprint of what it used to be. Or something.

Once that was done came the problematic task of making an enchantment stick to the stuff. It didn't take a good magic user to slap an amateurish enchantment on stone or metal. It would fade away in time, but it would stick long enough. Wood could be magically reshaped or have runes etched into it to control how it flowed, but would shrug off even the most skillfully applied enchantment within days. That was why brooms had metal bits attached to them, to hold the magic.

Petrified wood was predictably somewhere in the middle. It would not accept an amateurish enchantment and would eventually shrug off anything but a perfectly applied one.

This was a problem, because what Harry had in mind was very complex.

"Any day now, Harry." Sirius said, his jaw clenched, eyes and wand staying fixed on the slab of blackish fossil that had consumed his godson's attention recently.

"Shut up and focus." Harry said back, his own face tense and focused. "Just a little longer..."

With the benefit of his non-magical upbringing, he had noticed that higher level enchanting bore some superficial similarities to computer programming. That made a strange sort of sense to him since he was essentially programming an object to act in a certain way.

Of course, the difference was that the rules weren't always the same, he couldn't test to see if it worked and there was no way to edit once the enchantment was cast. By far the worst thing was that the whole thing had to be applied all at once though, Harry having determined over the course of several failures that the magic tended to mutate if one tried to apply it in chunks. Petrified wood was simply not as stable as stone or metal.

Fortunately, that was not a problem unique to this new material and a workaround for it had been discovered long ago. More than one person could do the enchanting by means of splitting complex enchantments into stable chunks and allowing the assisting magic users to hold them while the primary enchanter worked on the next part. That was why he currently had Sirius, Fleur, Luna and Penny here.

"Alright, I'm ready." Harry said. "Easy now..."

All five of them carefully brought the enchantment together into a cohesive whole and then warily stepped back. Their first attempt had been mildly explosive.

"So far so good." Sirius said jauntily.

"We'll see." Harry grunted cynically. They'd gotten to this point before. "Can you pass me the mirrors, Fleur."

The veela did so, handing him the four mirrors that had been chosen for this experiment.

Linking them to the newly made Nexus went off without a hitch. "Alright, let's try this out. Calling Luna."

His mirror showed the face of his friend.

"Hello, Harry." She said into it, smiling widely.

"Yes, hello." He replied dryly. "Alright, Fleur. Your turn."

"Calling Sirius." Fleur said and that was where things went wrong. The second magical connection intruded into the first and made the whole thing collapse.

"Damn." Harry muttered.

"At least the Nexus didn't explode this time." Penny offered. "Maybe you just need to refine the enchantment a little bit more?"

"No, I don't think that's it." Harry disagreed unhappily. "It's the enchantments on the mirrors, they're all the master side of the Proten Charm and keep trying to take priority. They're ignoring the secondary pathways worked into the Nexus enchantment."

"So it will not work?" Fleur asked, also unhappy.

"Not like this." Harry said with a shake of his head. "I do have an alternative idea, but..."

"But?" Everyone else prompted.

"But nothing just yet, I'll need to do some tests." He said dismissively and walked off.

Fleur, Luna, Penny and Sirius looked at each other and shrugged, also walking off. Harry was in one of his thoughtful moods again and would be unsociable for a while.

XXXXX

 _A week later._

After several attempts, dead ends and false starts, Harry had finally figured out a possible workaround to the Nexus enchantment problem.

Wood might be more or less useless from an enchanting standpoint, but it _could_ be carved with runes to direct how the magic would be funneled through it. From there it had been relatively simple to figure out how to make use small wooden sticks as distinct channels so that multiple mirror-mirror connections could be active simultaneously.

At this very moment, Harry was just finishing the rune carving of the last such channeling stick.

It really sucked that this had to be done by hand when there were so many options for precision carving available in the non-magical world. But alas, as Harry had long noted, magic was good for skipping small inconveniences but crap at large scale projects. Automation was simply not a thing with magic. There was no such thing as enchanting an item to make more enchanted items.

A magic user unconsciously imbued some of their power into most everything they did, from potion brewing to something as simple as writing a letter. If a person without magic tried to brew a potion, all they'd get was toxic sludge. A wizard signing his name stamped a bit of his identity onto the parchment or paper or whatever medium they used, something that more people would be well advised to be wary of.

Similarly, runes were powerless decoration unless they were handmade by a witch or wizard, which was the whole reason why he even needed employees for his idea to work instead of simply paying an engraving business in the mundane world to do it for him.

But that was a problem for the future, one of many. For now, he just had to make this much smaller scale Nexus work so that he had a proof of concept and so that he wouldn't have to carry half a dozen mirrors with him all the time.

Harry slid the newly created channeling stick into the opening he'd prepared in the block of petrified wood, nodding approvingly to himself when he felt the connection snap into place.

The Nexus was now a thick slab with twenty holes in it, only three of which were currently filled.

Next, he connected a set of mirrors marked from one to six to the Nexus, once again nodding approvingly to himself when no problems appeared.

Now for the part where things always went awry in the past.

First, he grabbed the mirror marked 'one'. "Two."

The number two mirror vibrated, signaling an incoming call. So far so good.

After answering it, he grabbed the mirror marked 'three'. "Four."

This was the part where things usually failed in past attempts, but the number four mirror vibrated just like number two had.

Harry answered it and was able to see his grinning face reflected in all four mirrors. Success!

Just to be sure, he did it again with the five and six mirrors, getting the same result. Then he deactivated all six and tried various combinations of it just to make sure that there weren't any hidden problems, but everything seemed to be working perfectly. Perfect.

This was actually even better than if the Nexus alone could support the whole enchantment. This way, every stick represented a mirror's incoming connection. Not only would it prevent multiple people attempting to connect to a single mirror, but he could also easily disconnect a mirror from the network if the buyer didn't pay their monthly fee.

He wasn't sure if he was going to stay with the sticks or change it to something easier to carve on(picking round, wand-like sticks had been a bad idea in retrospect), such as small wood plank or something so that it more resembled a blade server design that he'd seen while cruising the internet for ideas, but the important part was that it worked. Figuring out the specifics and streamlining it could wait until he was ready to start hiring people, for now he was going enjoy the feeling of accomplishment.

Harry was still sitting in the lord's study twenty minutes later, feeling inordinately pleased with himself, when Fleur walked through the door.

"Why are you grinning like that?" The French veela asked.

"Because I've done it." Harry said simply, gesturing at the Nexus.

"Really? It works?" She asked eagerly, moving closer and plopping herself in his lap. "Show me."

So he did, and an excited Fleur pronounced that it was 'magnifique' and attempted to shove her tongue down his throat.

"You are intending to make a business out of this when we come back from America, _non_?" She asked, ignoring the heat in her loins for now.

The question was rhetorical, but it got Harry thinking anyway. The idea of Potter Communications had been mostly theoretical up to this point, but now it was just a workforce away from realisation and there were things to consider.

Namely, distribution of profits. He was naturally keeping the lion's share for himself, but he hadn't been the only one working on this. Everyone living in Potter Manor had chipped in to some degree, some minor and some more major.

Luna's was as good as family anyway so anything he made would be available to her as well, not that she needed much.

Sirius had abdicated the position of Lord Black to him, but retained vault access and was not hurting for money, nor did he really use it much. Unlike his family, the white sheep of the Black family had learned the wisdom of careful spending in spite of his generally reckless nature. Plus, Harry was utterly certain that his godfather would refuse to take a share. Whatever his faults, Sirius could not be accused of being greedy or not loving his godson. Harry would still offer him a share, but fully expected to have it rejected.

Penny was already on his payroll and her involvement in this project had been minor outside of providing the materials, which was already something that he was paying her for. Still, he'd increase her salary a bit anyway. Nothing wrong with showing appreciation to people that made one's life easier.

Fleur was the real sticking point. She had helped him the most and was also financially dependent on him at the moment, which was something that he knew was starting to bother her. Many veela could – somewhat rightfully – be considered gold diggers that used their charms to coast through life on easy mode, but Fleur wasn't one of them. He suspected that she had been so eager to help him make this project work at least partly because she didn't want to feel like a freeloader.

He nodded with a humm. "How would you feel about having a share in said business?"

Fleur sat upright and looked at him in surprise. "'Arry, you did most of the work yourself!"

"But you helped quite a bit. It would've taken me longer without you." He pointed out.

"I did not do it for money." She said quietly.

"I know, but you still deserve some of it, perhaps especially because you didn't do it for the money."

Fleur worried at her lower lip for a long while before she resolved her feelings on the issue and nodded. "Very well, but I will take no more than 5%."

Harry had been thinking closer to 10%, but 5% of what he expected to make with this was still quite a lot. "Alright, 5% it is, Partner." They'd figure out the exact legalities later, but he wasn't worried. He knew that Fleur was trustworthy.

"I like the sound of that, _Partner_." Fleur purred and moved around so that she was straddling him, extremely glad that she had worn a skirt today. Riding him on this very chair was sounding like a fantastic idea just now.

Harry might have meant business partner, but she was more inclined to see him as a romantic one. She hadn't told him that she'd fallen in love with him yet, but knew that he must be able to feel it whenever they Joined. He was slower to love, but this gesture of giving her a share in his future business would bind them closer and that was more important than the considerable amount of money it would no doubt earn her.

XXXXX

 _January 16th._

Narcissa let out a deep sigh as she rested her head on Harry's chest, feeling intensely satisfied with the pleasant ache and seeping warmth between her legs. Her lord and lover had delivered more than his usual load today.

She had learned to cherish these quiet moments after one of their meetings. She would never be more than a mistress to Harry, but she could be happy with that. Happier than she had ever been during her marriage to Lucius. It certainly wasn't how she had expected things to go, but she had no complaints.

"You ready for tomorrow?" Harry asked.

"Of course." The clothing store that she had helped advertise was finally being opened and Narcissa was very eager for it. She had been heavily involved in that venture ever since escorting Harry to the ball on Halloween. People had approached her with questions long after that day and she had been the one to help the girls place adverts in _Witch Weekly, Teen Witch Weekly_ and other publications. She had been the one to keep interest high even months after the ball.

Working with witches that were one step up from muggleborns had been hard at first and she had struggled with her prejudices, but she'd known that Harry would be deeply unhappy with her if she showed it, so she had sucked it up and gotten on with it. Associating with those of lower birth had ceased to be shameful somewhere along the way.

"Good, I'll be counting on you."

"I won't let you down." Narcissa replied with a content smile. Even as just a mistress, this arrangement had more substance to it than her marriage to Lucius ever did and Harry was a much better man than her former husband had been in almost every way. She was a respected public figure again and was trusted to act in her lord's name. That was much better than the minor prestige of being associated with a powerful figure that she had expected and vastly better than the shame of being reduced to poverty.

She may have become Harry's mistress desperate and backed into a corner, but now she felt more free than she ever had. Lucius' death had turned out to be one of the best things to ever happen to her.

XXXXX

 _January 17th._

"I didn't expect this kind of turnout right from the start." Bryanna's voice was quietly awed and more than a bit nervous as she observed the sizable crowd gathered outside the doors of their soon-to-be-opened store.

It was situatied in Diagon Alley, a bit further down the line from the busiest part of it but still in a good location. Harry had bought out the building and had it remodeled to suit its new purpose. It now looked quite reminiscent to a mundane clothing store, albeit with space expansion charms. Harry had also considered attempting a magical escalator, but decided against it in the end. No need to prop up peoples' laziness any more than magic already did.

"I'm a bit surprised by the turnout myself." Narcissa admitted, also looking outside. "I know that our marketing campaign was well received, but there must have been more demand for muggle style clothing than I thought."

"Good clothes are always in demand." Fleur said with authority. She had modeled for Bryanna and Tiana a few times and wanted to be present for the grand opening. They'd no doubt have had group sex with Harry back on Black Island if he hadn't nixed that idea because of the Allure.

"That bit about helping wizards and witches dress like proper muggles when they need to might have helped with that too." Tiana added.

Everyone present nodded in agreement. That had been a particular weakness of British magicals that all four girls had been looking to exploit since the start, long before Bryanna had approached Harry the first time.

"Maybe they're just looking for snorkacks." Luna pondered, making her first mystery creature reference in a long while.

"She's got a point, they could just be curious. I actually wonder how many of these gawkers are here to bother me rather than shop?" Harry wondered cynically, automatically translating Luna's statement in his head, a skill one tended to acquire around her.

He had to be here since it was his name and money promoting the store, but he would've rather been at home. He would also have to stick around while Fleur and Luna got to leave at any time.

"The reporters for certain." Narcissa chuckled awkwardly, deciding to ignore the strange Lovegood girl. She was wearing a fine white silk blouse and black skirt instead of formal robes, all the better to promote this business. It was no longer uncomfortable for her to wear things other than robes.

"Well, it's time." Bryanna said nervously. "Let's open it."

XXXXX

Several hours later, Harry was escaping to the break room to get some peace from the barrage of mostly idiotic questions. Just as Narcissa had said, there were indeed reporters there and they were as annoying as ever. Fleur and Luna had already left, irritated by the pushy crowds. He'd have to tell Dora that she hadn't missed anything of importance.

As he made his way to the employee only area in the back, he became aware of a tiny, muted presence hovering at the edge of his senses. It would have been impossible to sense in the crowd he'd just left, but here it buzzed in the back of his mind like an irritating fly.

He took a seat in the break room without letting on that he knew something was up, merely closing his eyes and trying to pinpoint the origin of the feeling. It was familiar, kind of like Sirius when he was Padfoot, but even more muted.

His focus was disrupted when Bryanna's familiar presence entered the range of his detection.

"I can't believe how successful we are!" She gushed happily as she entered the room. "We'll have to hire more people if this keeps up."

"I doubt it will." Harry said dismissively. "People are curious now since it's something new and has to do with me, but it should level out soon."

Bryanna bit her lip for a moment and then dropped herself into his lap, hugging him tightly. "Thank you."

"What for?" Harry asked curiously.

"For helping us. We never would have gotten our idea off the ground without you." She elaborated.

"Well it's not like I'm doing it for free." He pointed out, knowing that he was taking in 60% of their profits until they paid off the loan he gave them.

"I could give you a quick repayment right now." Bryanna whispered hotly into his ear.

"i'd love to, but I'm not into exhibitionism."

"What?" Bryanna asked, baffled.

"There's an Animagus in the room with us." Harry explained, keeping his eyes peeled for any movement when he felt the panicked flare of magic from the skulking presence.

A blue beetle fluttered from behind a tea cup and Harry swiftly summoned it into his hand before it could escape.

"Is that...?" Bryanna asked uncertainly, still seated in Harry's lap and staring at the clearly terrified bug he was holding.

Harry didn't answer, taking the time to cast the Animagus-Reversal Spell instead.

A familiar woman smacked into the floor arse first, blonde hair and tacky glasses askew.

"Hello, Rita." Harry said mildly and without surprise. He'd guessed that it might be her.

"Lord Potter, fancy meeting you here." Rita tittered nervously. "I was just..."

"Snooping for a juicy story." Harry finished when she failed to come up with a plausible excuse. "Would I have been reading about how I was using my fame and position to take advantage of vulnerable young women in the _Prophet_ tomorrow if I hadn't noticed you? Figures that you'd be the first to scrounge up the balls to start talking shite about me again."

"I would never say something like that about you!" Rita protested quickly and unconvincingly.

"Oh, well that's alright then." Harry said cheerfully, gaining queer looks from both the reporter and the furious Bryanna.

"I'll just be going then?" Rita nervously asked more than said, getting on her feet and dusting herself off.

"Go right ahead." He nodded.

"Harry!" Bryanna hissed at him.

"It was, uh, nice talking to you again." Rita began to shuffle towards the exit, starting to think that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be alright.

"Make sure to stay available though, Amelia Bones will definitely want to have a nice long chat with you about being an unregistered Animagus and trespassing and who knows what else."

Rita's shoulders slumped and she turned back to him with a resigned look on her face. She knew that Bones hated her and wouldn't miss out on the chance to charge her with everything she possibly could. "What do you want?"

"I would've liked to live my life without bitter old hags causing me trouble because they're bored, but I guess that was too much to ask." Skeeter was only a few years older than Narcissa or Septima and might pass for attractive if she ditched the hideous nails and glasses that she was so fond of, but Harry wasn't going to let facts get in the way of a solid hit to the reporter's self-esteem.

Rita didn't quite succeed at holding back a scowl at the insult. "What is it going to take for you to keep quiet?"

Harry gave her an almost pitying look. "Rita, you obviously work for me now. Permanently."

He'd been intending to leave the toxic reporter alone since she wasn't really worth the bother, but that was clearly not an option. Fine then, if Skeeter wanted to be a trouble stirrer then she could be, but he wouldn't tolerate her doing it to him. Harry didn't really know what use he could put her to just yet, but something would probably come up.

Rita did not like that at all. She'd spent all her life puncturing people's bloated egos, so being a pet reporter for someone as high profile as Potter was exactly what she didn't want to do. But with the alternative being Azkaban...

"Fine!" She snapped with a glower.

"You can go now. I'll get in touch if I need you for anything."

Skeeter barely acknowledged the dismissal as she transformed back into her beetle form and angrily buzzed off.

"Harry, I think seeing you handle that annoying cunt might be just about the sexiest thing I've ever seen." Bryanna said throatily. "I need you to take me right now."

"Only if you promise to keep this little altercation to yourself." Harry said, giving her hip a squeeze. "And that you won't try to blackmail Skeeter yourself."

"I promise." She said without hesitation. She wasn't much of a blackmailer anyway and it wasn't worth upsetting Harry. "Now let's hurry before someone else walks in here."

XXXXX

 _January 28th._

Business was going well. His reclaimed vineyard had suffered a bit from the abrupt change in ownership but things were back on track now.

Harry knew that Parkinson had also taken the Potters' pottery business from which their name had originated, but he also knew that it wasn't an especially profitable business. The Potters had kept it going as a nod to their heritage rather than the gold it was bringing it.

Harry simply wasn't sentimental enough to care about that and Parkinson had already sold it to someone else years ago anyway. It wasn't worth the effort of getting it back.

The girls' store was also doing impressively well for a newly established business that dared defy tradition. They had all expected to suffer a net loss in profit for some time before things picked up, but all the advertisement seemed to have done the trick.

Perhaps this bout of smooth operation was why Harry was utterly unsurprised when he received a mirror call from a visibly upset Bryanna, telling him that he should come to Diagon Alley because someone had vandalised their newly opened store. You'd think that people would be smarter than that, but they really weren't.

Businesses in Diagon Alley didn't open until around 9 AM, so he'd been awake for hours already, but Harry was still annoyed at the disruption to his day. More so when he apparated there and found it to be full of curious gawkers. At least they got out of his way in a hurry when they saw him.

He found Bryanna and the other girls easily enough, currently being questioned in an out of the way spot by a member of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, newly restored to usefulness by a recent increase in funding to the DMLE as a whole.

He made his way towards them while looking at what had been done to the front of the store. Some uncreative soul had written 'mudblood whores', 'go back to your holes' and similar classy slogans everywhere in what appeared to be magical paint, the type that resisted easy removal. There was even a spelling mistake in one of them. At least the display windows weren't broken, though that was probably because they were enchanted for extra durability.

"Morning." Harry greeted dryly as he stepped up to the four girls.

"Lord Potter." The MLEP officer said after the subdued greetings had been returned. "Do you have any inkling as to who might have done this?"

Harry did like this one. He got right to the point. "I can think of several dozen blood purists off the top of my head that might have their panties in wad over what's being sold in this store, but not anyone specific."

"I was afraid you'd say that." The man sighed. "They didn't seem to have used any spells, so there are no spell traces and there were no eye-witnesses either."

"So, stupid enough to do this, but not completely retarded." Harry nodded in understanding. Diagon Alley wasn't a residential area after all and nobody lived here except for perhaps a couple of people renting rooms in the Leaky Cauldron. It would have been abandoned in the dead of night when this was presumably done.

The wizard ignored his summation. "We'll check to see if anyone has bought any spell-paint recently, but I have to warn you that we don't expect to find whoever did this."

"I understand."

The MLEP officer asked a few more general questions before moving off, leaving Harry and the four girls alone.

"I can't believe someone would do this." Isabel scowled.

"I can." Harry said dryly.

"How can you be so calm?!" Jade demanded, as stereotypically Gryffindorish in her temperament as ever.

"Easily, I'm phlegmatic like that." He replied drolly and waved his hand towards the vandalised wall. The spell-paint might be resistant to magical removal, but it could still be done and Harry was more than up to the task. "There, problem solved."

"Thanks, Harry." Bryanna said, still a bit upset about the vandalism but better now that it had been undone so quickly.

"They'll probably just do it again." Tiana said cynically.

"Probably." Harry agreed, looking over at the now dispersing crowd. Some of them were wearing things bought in this very store and he could easily imagine some puffed up pureblood getting all offended about the 'filthy mudbloods corrupting their culture'.

But this had the feel of petulant thuggishness rather than the attack of a business rival, though one might be a cover for the other. Still, if he was right, the perpetrator or perpetrators likely would be stupid enough to do it again as Tiana said.

"So, rotating night's watch?" Bryanna asked in resignation, already mourning the lost sleep. There were alarm spells that would go off when someone trespassed, but they weren't particularly reliable and wouldn't be of any use if the caster was asleep anyway.

The notion of asking the DMLE to do this for them wasn't even considered. They all knew that it wouldn't expend the manpower on what could very well be a one-off event.

"No need, just let me handle this."

That got all four of them curious. "How?"

"I have my ways."

XXXXX

Things had progressed since the first time that corvid birds had started appearing around Potter Manor. The most notable was that Harry had decided to have a wall removed between two empty rooms on the top floor and turn the resulting(also magically expanded) space into a ravenry.

There were more than just ravens nesting there now, but it was still called that. Penny sometimes complained about the expense of feeding so many birds, but Harry suspected that it had more to do with being creeped out by all the beady eyes staring at her.

Those beady eyes all turned to him as Harry entered the ravenry, but he wasn't perturbed by them, instead making his way leasurely towards two particular ravens.

" _Hello, Huginn. Hello, Muninn._ " He croaked in a way that was actually anatomically impossible for a human to do, but magic allowed for many things.

The two ravens croaked back a greeting of their own, their intelligent eyes waiting for him to continue. These two were his favorites, named after the mythical ravens that scoured the world for information and brought it back to Odin, the Sky-Father of the Norse pantheon.

" _I have a task for you._ " Harry said.

" _What would you have of us?_ " Huginn asked.

Just like a wizard or witch imbued a bit of their power into their written word, so too did they do it with the spoken one. It was so little that it wasn't even noteworthy in most cases as anything but a curiousity, and Harry remained firmly convinced that even spell incantations were little more than a placebo effect, but magical languages were a different kettle of fish. They were powerfully, though subtly, magical and had a powerful, though subtle, effect.

Complex conversation required considerable intellect, well above what most animals were capable of, and a witch or wizard speaking to them in a magical language should really not be getting anything worthwhile out of it. Snakes certainly weren't smart enough for Parseltongue to be particularly useful, at least the mundane species.

But magic made things happen that shouldn't happen. A witch or wizard speaking to an animal in a magical language as if they could actually converse on a human level quickly enhanced an animal's intelligence to make it possible.

And ravens were already in the upper tiers of animal intelligence.

" _I need you to guard a place for me._ " Harry said, using his nascent Legilimency to project an image of Diagon Alley into the minds of the two ravens.

It had taken him a long time to get a start on the other half of the Mind Arts, but that was mostly his own stubbornness at play. He had disdained the use of the formalised Legilimency spell, which was really just a crude battering ram into another's mind. He knew that Dumbledore was capable of a more subtle form of it that required no spell and was determined to learn that instead.

Oddly enough, his prior experience with the Joining had actually been a hindrance towards learning Legilimency. He'd had trouble reaching for the mind instead of the soul, though that might also be because he had wanted to disprove the necessity of eye contact, which he had ultimately failed at.

" _It will be done_." Munnin acknowledged.

Even without the intelligence boost that Harry speaking to them had imparted, ravens frequently formed partnerships with animals such as wolves, acting as scouts in exchange for scraps. A nest safe from all predators and an unlimited supply of food was a much better deal and they were happy to do their part.

XXXXX

 _Two days later, Diagon Alley._

Marcus Flint and Lucian Bole were two very dissatisfied young wizards. Both recently graduated Slytherin purebloods, they had expected to play professional quidditch after they got out of Hogwarts.

Those dreams had shattered like glass when they had been all but thrown out of the tryouts, the tactics employed by the Slytherin house team being utterly unacceptable on the professional level. The fact that their Gryffindor rival Oliver Wood _had_ made it onto a professional team only made it sting worse.

Neither was really the type to accept blame for their own shortcomings, so it was of course all the fault of those filthy mudbloods and halfbloods.

From a certain point of view they were even technically correct.

Quidditch was simply not something where you could do well solely because you were a pureblood or even cover up your incompetence. It had certainly been tried, but even bigotry eventually bowed under the desire to win and there were only so many pureblood quidditch players, especially good ones, which neither Flint nor Bole were.

After their abject failure to take the pro quidditch scene by storm, the two had stewed resentfully and done little besides develop the beginnings of a lovely alcoholic habit while muttering imprecations against mudbloods.

Then came news that one of their former housemates, Tiana Day, was opening her own business under the aegis of the Potter family.

Day had been Flint's yearmate for seven of his eight years in Hogwarts. She had been a pretty piece of arse even if she was as good as a mudblood and Flint had been of the opinion that she should have been flattered by his attention.

That was another of Flint's beliefs that proved to be false. The rumors of her fucking Potter while he was still a third year, alongside her Ravenclaw friend no less, did nothing to soften the brutal rejection he'd received from her.

Both Flint and Bole had been present for Lucius Malfoy's fiery demise, but they were young, cocksure and not all that bright. The terror of the moment quickly faded from their minds.

Seeing an increasing number of people wearing muggle style clothes was the last straw. Flint had already been nursing quite a grudge against both Potter and Day, then had his dreams of being a pro quidditch player stolen from him by mudbloods, now he had to watch as his world was taken over by that filth. No, this was too much to tolerate.

Add in some Firewhiskey and it wasn't much of a surprise that trashing the newly opened clothing store seemed like a good idea to him. Bole didn't have the same personal resentment going for him, but he was still more than game to spread his own misery to someone else.

The ease with which their first attempt was undone only made them more angry and they came back better prepared. This time they had some Zonko's Dungbombs that would make sure that nobody would come near the building until it stopped stinking, at which point they'd do it again and again until the mudbloods learned their place.

The two Slytherin graduates crept through the dark and empty magical shopping district, intent on their self-assigned crusade.

"This'll show them." Bole said gleefully, taking a couple of Dungbombs out of a bag with a gloved hand.

Flint merely grunted in agreement, taking a pair of stinky surprises for himself.

And from the rooftops, Huginn and Munnin watched.

XXXXX

 _Early morning._

Harry withdrew from the minds of his ravens with a thoughtful expression.

Lucian Bole and Marcus Flint, huh? He honestly hadn't expected to recognise whoever was vandalising the girls' store right away, but he was familiar with these two particularly unimpressive specimens of the human race, having dropped in on quite a few of their classes back in Hogwarts. They weren't good for much besides wasting oxygen.

He'd have to think of an appropriate retaliation, but for now he needed to go clean up the mess they made. Maybe get Tiana's opinion on Dumb and Dumber while he was there too.

XXXXX

With how late Diagon Alley's business day started, Harry was able to remove the Dungbomb stink before anyone besides a few early strollers even noticed it.

Today, Tiana was working along with Isabel, and she was as grateful for that as she was furious that it had been necessary.

"Do you know who did it?" She demanded.

Harry nodded as he replied. "Lucian Bole and Marcus Flint."

" _What?_ " She seethed. "Those two useless twats?! I'll fucking kill them!"

"Easy there, Tiger. I'll take care of it."

But Tiana wasn't listening, instead continuing to rage like Gryffindor. "Seven years I've had to put up with Flint's stupid ugly mug and now he pulls this shite?! I bet it was because I hurt his precious pureblood pride when I told him I'd rather fuck Hagrid's dog than touch him."

"He made a move on you?" Harry asked with a frown. He was terribly amused by the harsh put-down, but now was not the time.

Tiana snorted derisively. "Calling it that is being a bit generous. He swaggered up to me like he was king of the world and told me that I was going to Hogsmeade with him, but it was obvious what he really wanted. If he wasn't a total blockhead and Snape didn't keep such a close eye on the Slytherin dorms, I would've been seriously worried about being raped. I still made sure to never go anywhere alone though."

Harry frowned some more. He'd be the first to sneer at the 'Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain' bullshit, but he hadn't ever gotten the feeling that rape was one of the dangers there. Then again, he _was_ a guy and automatically in far less danger of having that happen to him even if magic was the ultimate force equaliser.

"Did that kind of thing happen often?" He asked.

Tiana hesitated. "I'm not really sure. Like I said, Snape kept a close eye on the dorms and with all the stupid House rivalry going on outside it, we had to present a united front in public. With so many of the worst purebloods going there though, Slytherin was always a breeding ground for the worst kind of social climbing and I've heard some things about sexual favors being used or sometimes extorted. I managed to keep well out of it until Flint's idiotic proposition. Me shooting him down like that for everyone in the common room to hear hurt him badly and I didn't like the looks he gave me for the rest of the year. I don't know if he's ever actually done anything, but there have been...rumors."

"Rumors?" Harry prompted.

"Not about Flint specifically, but he always struck me as the type." She admitted. "It's a big castle. Lots of empty rooms and secret passages and we have spells to make people forget inconvenient memories. I'm not sure if there's any truth to it, but there was talk about people losing a few hours from their memory sometimes. I'm not sure how it is in the other Houses, but we Slytherins were a suspicious lot and there were...rumors."

Harry hadn't been sure how severe to make his retaliation, even with Narcissa fingering the Flints as Voldemort supporters, but this cleared up things nicely. True, he hadn't heard anything specifically damning, but it was enough to tell him that he didn't need to waste his limited supply of kindness on Flint. He didn't even really care if these rumors were accurate or not to be perfectly honest.

Oddly enough, Tiana's words also raised his opinion of Snape a little bit.

"What about Bole?"

"He was a year behind me, so I don't know him as well, but he's friends with Flint so he's probably about the same."

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"You said you'd take care of it. How?" Tiana asked when he didn't say anything.

"I think it might be better if you don't know. Plausible deniability and all that." He said, amused.

"At least tell me if it'll hurt?"

That made Harry scoff. "Of course it's going to hurt. If they were smart enough to be taught by anything other than pain, they wouldn't have done this in the first place."

"Good." Tiana smiled viciously.

XXXXX

 _Now if I was a petty idiot taking my inadequecies out on those better than me, would I be stupid enough to come watch the results of my handywork?_ Harry pondered as he watched the crowds of Diagon Alley pass by, leaning on a wall and covered by a spell that made the eyes of anyone looking at him slide past him without recognition. The spell was made many-fold more effective because nobody expected him to be here and were busy with their errands. Very soon, he spotted the angrily disappointed faces of Lucian Bole and Marcus Flint glaring at the store front. _Yes, I would be that stupid._

Flint and Bole turned around and stomped off. Harry pushed off his wall and followed after them.

To his surprise, they opened the 'secret' wall that led to the Leaky Cauldron. They must be getting an early start on a drinking problem if they needed a stiff drink at this hour.

Harry quickened his step so that he could pass through before the passage closed. There was a small, secluded space between Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron and this was not an opportunity to be missed.

Bole and Flint heard his approach as the passage closed behind him and turned their heads to look at him, eyes briefly furrowing in confusion before they widened in shock as the direct attention caused his spell to fail. They went for their wands.

A useless gesture. They couldn't hope to cast anything so close to him, not when they were so weak.

A costly gesture too, because Harry was not so hindered and sent them both crumpling to the ground with a wide area stunner. He followed it immediately with a powerful locking spell on the door to the Leaky Cauldron and another to make the bricked over passage to Diagon Alley unresponsive.

Looking at the two unconscious morons, he was briefly seized by the barbaric idea of drawing his kukri from where it was sheathed in his boot and cutting an ear from each of them. He had nearly asked his ravens to bring him their ears instead of just observing. Only a desire to keep his rapport with the carrion birds hidden for as long as possible had stopped him.

But no, strangely tempting as that was, he had prepared something else. There were two syringes in his pocket, one labeled 'Bole' and the other 'Flint'. Cutting ears could always be Plan B.

Harry wasn't a nurse of any kind and didn't really know the best spots to draw blood from, but he figured that you can't go wrong with the neck. He was almost disappointed to discover that he was right.

As a finishing touch, he hacked off a few locks of hair from each.

XXXXX

 _Four days later, the Shrieking Shack._

"Why would he want to meet us here of all places?" Bole bit out angrily, shifting awkwardly where he stood.

"How the fuck should I know?" Flint growled back, also shifting awkwardly.

They had woken up alone right where they'd been stunned, seemingly no worse for the wear. Both had been baffled as to why Potter would stun them and do nothing else, since he must have known that it was them vandalising his store.

Their bafflement hadn't lasted long. Mere hours later, painful boils had started appearing all over their genitals. It was agonizing, but almost worse was the embarrassment of needing to wear diapers soaked in Boil Cure Potion when they discovered that the boils and sores would just reappear as soon as the potion wore off.

Clearly, Potter had cursed them. They'd been thinking of ways to fix the situation when the letter came. 'February 3rd, 10:00 at the Shrieking Shack' was all it said.

They could have refused to show up, but they obviously liked having uncursed cocks and balls too much for that.

So here they were, in the Shrieking Shack.

"Maybe this is where he fucked those sluts?" Bole suggested with a leer.

"Give me some more credit, will you?"

Flint and Bole jumped nearly a foot into the air, making a little 180° spin and staring with wide eyes and pointed wands at the back wall, on which Harry was indolently leaning as if he'd been there for hours already.

"Put those away before you hurt yourselves." He said snidely, gesturing to their wands.

"When did you get here?" Flint demanded, but lowered his wand all the same.

"I've been here longer than you." Harry snorted and then smirked at them. "How have you been enjoying my curse? I hope it wasn't too uncomfortable."

Both Flint and Bole very much wanted to know how Potter could have been here longer than them since they hadn't seen anything when coming in, but wrote it off as invisibility in the end. What really mattered was getting the curses removed.

"Of course it's fucking uncomfortable!" Bole growled. "Take them off!"

"Why should I?" Harry demanded back. "You attacked my business and insulted people under my protection. I should leave those curses active for the rest of your lives and make you thank me for being lenient."

Flint _really_ wanted to say that they were just mudbloods, but even he could tell that would be a bad idea. "We didn't mean it..."

Flint hated begging, but there wasn't much else to do. Potter didn't seem in a forgiving mood and they had nothing to threaten or bribe him him.

"Sure you didn't." Harry snorted again, shaking his head. "Look, here's how it's going to be. You two are going to swear Unbreakable Vows to obey my commands and I'll release the curses I placed on you. Deal?"

Flint and Bole went pale white and then red with anger. A Vow like that...it was a death sentence. Just a few careless words that contradicted each other would be enough to kill them. And even if it didn't, Potter could order them to hand over everything they owned and they could only choose between doing so or death. Not even the Dark Lord had ever demanded such a thing.

"Do you have any idea what you're asking?!" Bole shouted.

"Yes." Harry replied simply. "Don't give me those looks, if all goes well we won't ever see each other again. I would've left you alone if you had left me and mine alone, but you didn't and here we are. I have to warn you though, if you _don't_ make the vow, I'm going to make you both...disappear."

Flint and Bole brought their wands up at the threat, but Harry had been prepared for it and a spell wrenched them away before they were halfway up.

"None of that now." He said mildly, but his eyes were hard and the air was getting cold. "You know a bit much to be allowed to leave here unbound. For all I know you might decide that Amelia Bones would be able to help you and that would really be quite troublesome."

The two former Slytherins were pale and terrified now, feeling trapped between two impossible choices.

"So what's it going to be?" Harry asked when they didn't say anything for a minute. "The Vow or freedom from all earthly concerns?"

The grim humor of the last sentence didn't make them feel any better. They were being harshly reminded of the fact that this wizard who was younger than them was already a killer.

The two former Slytherins deliberated for a while longer and then, with great reluctance, swore the Unbreakable Vows that Harry had demanded.

XXXXX

 _Grimmauld Place_.

Harry destroyed the hair and blood samples that he had bound the curses on Flint and Bole to, as per their agreement. It didn't really matter. He had more in case he needed them, carefully placed in a freezer by an awestruck Kreacher.

This little episode had also brought about a bit of worry to his mind. What if someone cursed him like this? Laying hands on his blood would be difficult, but it might happen. His hair would be much easier. People shed hair all the time. Not as good as blood for cursing, but still potentially problematic.

Maybe it was time to start performing that little ritual every day? The one that severed all previous magical connections to him? It would be inconvenient, but not as inconvenient as getting cursed.

Probably just unfounded paranoia, but still...

At least this issue was over with, even if Unbreakable Vows really weren't that good a method for controlling people. The one he had forced Dumb and Dumber to swear was incredibly dangerous and posed a very high risk of killing them.

He hadn't had much of a choice though. He couldn't do the same to them as he had to Narcissa, obviously. Not only was he not into dudes, but he suspected that he wouldn't want to touch either of them even if he was.

Even if he never spoke to them again, he had at least denied Voldemort two idiots that would almost certainly have joined up with him if given half a chance. It was something. And on the off chance that they _were_ stupid enough to join, he'd have spies.


	29. Chapter 29

**Onlooker: Commentary on the US elections? Well I really have one comment on that topic...*laughs in European*.**

 **Much credit goes to Joe Lawyer, without whom this chapter would be much less polished.**

XXXXX

 _February 7th._

Meetings with Penny and Narcissa had become a regular occurrence over time, one kept him informed of his finances and anything related to them while the other made sure that the public view of him didn't become problematic. It was a good arrangement and Harry made sure to listen to both women even if he sometimes wanted to fall asleep.

At the moment, Penny was telling him about the steady profits being made, but Harry's mind was elsewhere.

The planned trip to North America was coming up very soon now and his concern over Voldemort was nagging at him. He had no intention of putting his life on hold because of the Dark Lord, but he really did not want the bastard resurrecting himself while he was abroad. Or at all preferably.

Fucking Horcruxes.

"Harry, are you listening to me?" Penny asked, sounding quite exasperated.

"Sorry, I've got something else on my mind." He apologised. "Can we do this a bit later? I need to talk to Narcissa about something."

Penny frowned but nodded, leaving the room to give him and the older witch some privacy.

"What did you want to talk about?" Narcissa asked curiously.

Over the past few days, Harry had run through everything he knew about Voldemort, his Horcuxes and the Death Eaters forwards and backwards in an attempt to see if there were any loose ends in his knowledge that could lead to finding another soul anchor.

There was one little loose end that he'd never received an answer for. It was a bit of a long shot, but it couldn't hurt to ask.

"Does the name 'Dobby' mean anything to you?"

Narcissa gaped at him and Harry knew that he had struck gold.

"He used to be the Malfoy house-elf. How do you know about him?" She asked, very shocked.

"I see." That meant that Lucius was the most likely culprit for the diary being in Hogwarts back during his second year. Interesting. "What happened to him?"

"Lucius killed him for some reason, he never told me why."

Ah, his oh-so-clever plan for the house-elf to get himself free had backfired then. That actually did make him feel a little bit guilty. He remembered how hopeful the abused elf had been when Harry had shared his idea.

"Harry, how do you know about Dobby?" Narcissa asked again.

"I met him a few years ago, he helped me out with something." And it was the truth. Without Dobby, he wouldn't have been able to confirm that Voldemort had entrusted a Horcux to at least one of his servants. And if he had done it once, he might have done it again.

"What could he have possibly helped you out with?" The blonde witch asked incredulously.

He gave her an intense stare that made her flush all the way down to her neck. A look like that almost inevitably preceded a hard fucking and they had never done it in Potter Manor before.

But Harry didn't have sex in mind this time. Rather, he was thinking of how deeply he had bent Narcissa to his will.

She had been a vile woman at the beginning. Her mask of politeness had been impeccable, but there had been a rot on the inside. Only the rush of dominating her had kept him at it instead of washing his hands of her.

Once her fear and desperation had been replaced by genuine respect and affection for him, other things had followed. She could no longer despise things that he liked, nor could she glorify things that he held in contempt. She was still a woman born into privilege and possessed of a certain snobbery because of it, but Harry actually found himself liking her these days.

Now he could be sure that she was truly loyal to him rather than merely seeing him as the least terrible option.

"Narcissa, are there any reasonably high ranked Death Eaters in Britain that nobody would miss too much?"

The blonde woman's eyes widened at the question before settling into calculation. She could tell that this was no idle question and that whoever she named may mysteriously vanish. Rather than frightening her, the trust that this gesture demonstrated made her back straighten with pride.

And she had just the man in mind, someone that she had always hated. "There is someone, but I don't know exactly where he lives..."

"That's alright. As long as you know the general area, I'll find him."

XXXXX

 _A few days later._

Harry, Fleur and Luna were taking a walk in the forest near Potter Manor when a raven unexpectedly decided to perch on Harry's shoulder.

"What does it want?" Fleur huffed. The black birds listened to Harry and didn't shit all over the house, but she still didn't like them much. They were creepy.

The raven croaked something that only Harry understood.

"He just wanted to tell me about a juicy bit of carrion he found." Harry said, smiling at his private joke.

"Oh, that's so wonderful for him!" Luna exclaimed happily, clapping her hands. "And so nice that he wants to share with you."

Fleur merely shuddered in disgust at _that_ mental image.

XXXXX

Walden Macnair was a simple wizard. A pureblood though not a noble one, he liked to kill things and had become a Death Eater for that purpose, with the occasional episode of rape helping to spice things up. When the Dark Lord had fallen, he'd become the Ministry's executioner on the Comittee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. It wasn't a bad job, though a bit slow.

Macnair actually didn't care too much about mudbloods, though he did consider himself superior to them. Mostly, he just liked killing them for the sake of killing rather than because of any more sophisticated reason.

He lived alone in a cottage in the hills and spent most of his free time hunting in the surrounding forests. Sometimes, he treated himself to hunting a muggle that he'd kidnapped off the streets. Those were good days.

Walden Macnair was also really starting to fucking hate ravens, crows and every bird that looked like them.

He hadn't noticed it at first, but the bloody birds had been showing up around him a lot lately. It had been only a few at first, but their numbers had suddenly multiplied until it seemed like there was no end to them.

It wasn't like they were a strange sight to him. They were carrion eaters after all and had picked up on the fact that a lot of corpses turned up around him. Thing was, they generally stayed with his kills instead of around him. The change was unnerving.

Today was especially bad. There were hundreds of ravens around his house now, all of them staring at him in creepy silence.

Macnair's nerves could only take so much of this before he snapped, and snap he did, screaming at the birds in an effort to scare them off.

They weren't scared. In fact, they didn't budge at all. They stayed quiet except for a few soft croaks.

Macnair pulled out his wand, intent of firing a blasting curse at the nearest grouping of them.

He never got the chance. Something hard crashed into the back of his head and sent him spiralling into unconsciousness.

XXXXX

Harry put away the heavy oaken club he'd made earlier, ignoring the small bloodstain on it. A stunner would have been simpler, but he didn't want to leave any magical traces behind. Heh, maybe he should give the club a name?

The Muggle Stunner, legendary club, +5 vs. Death Eaters, special ability: Concussive Blow.

He left the Death Eater lying in the snow and went to the man's cottage, trusting that he would stay unconscious.

Harry was almost disappointed with what he found inside. Given the picture Narcissa had painted of Macnair, he'd half-expected to find shelves filled with the bleached skulls of his victims in the basement or something. Maybe a set of Death Eater robes at least. Instead of that he found a fairly non-descript living space, though there were some large axes hanging on the walls that he'd been told the man was fond of.

Ah well, he supposed it _would_ be stupid to keep something like that around. Time to go then.

XXXXX

 _Grimmauld Place basement._

Harry finished securing Macnair to a chair with sturdy ropes and then drew his kukri, slicing upen the man's left sleeve.

The Dark Mark was there as expected, but it was a faint outline instead of the black tattoo-like thing it was supposed to be. It looked like yet another variation of the Protean Charm, a type that could apparently be applied to people. Interesting adaptation. The magic in it was as faded as the color though, so Voldemort's current weakness must be reflected in his mark. That was also kind of interesting.

Having nothing better to do while he waited for his captive to wake up, Harry took the man's wand and sat at a table he'd had Kreacher bring down here a couple of days ago. Then he carefully cracked it open and began studying it.

For all his distaste of them, Harry had to admit that wands were incredibly sophisticated items. The core was somehow connected to the wood, which was what gave the wand its ability to tap into the user's magic. Exactly how this was done, Harry had no idea, nor did he have any clue why wood type was important or how different ways of waving it around could help in spellcasting.

Something had been done to the wood obviously, since the dragon heartstring core in Macnair's wand didn't seem tampered with. Miniature runes? Some kind of super secret invisible wandmaker technique that only they knew? Snorkacks? It could be anything and his Magesight wasn't of any help. It certainly wasn't a mystery that he would be able to unravel in ten minutes.

But that wasn't the mystery he was here to unravel. That one was currently waking up with a pained groan.

"Welcome back to the land of the conscious." Harry greeted.

Macnair squinted until the blur reshaped itself into something recognisable. "Potter?"

"The one and only."

Macnair noticed the state of his wand at that point and growled low in his throat. "What the fuck did you do to my wand?!"

"I was studying it." Harry answered conversationally. "Fascinating things really, even if I don't like them. Kind of amazing how refined they've become, the greatest achievement of our kind...and also the worst."

That didn't make the bound wizard any happier. "When I get out of here I'm going to skin you alive."

"When you get out of here?" Harry echoed, darkly amused. "What makes you think you're getting out of here?"

The words pierced through Macnair's concussed mind like a spear of pure ice and he swallowed thickly, suddenly afraid. For a minute there, he had forgotten that Potter was actually nothing at all like those silly stories of him.

"What do you want?" He asked, hating the feeling of helplessness.

"Information." Harry said, stood up from the desk and circled around until he was standing behind the bound man, hands on his shoulders.

"What kind of information?" Macnair asked warily, even more unnderved now that he couldn't see his captor. He noticed the distinctive scratching sounds of a dictation quill somewhere to the side for the first time...this really was an interrogation.

"Did Voldemort ever entrust you with an important object?" Harry asked.

"No." _Confusion, but no lie._

"Do you know if Voldemort ever entrusted someone else with such an object?"

"No." _Still no lie_.

"If Voldemort were to entrust such an object to someone, who would it be? Name both the living and those that died after him."

Macnair hesitated. _Confusion, unwillingness to betray, fear of retribution._

Harry drew his enchanted kukri and placed it against the death eater's right ear. "Do I really have to start cutting pieces off you?"

Walden Macnair was not a brave man by any means, but he was a pureblood with certain preconceptions. To him, torture was done with magic, not with knives, which meant that this was a bluff. So he sneered. "You don't have the guts."

In different circumstances, He might even have been right. Harry didn't really have the right temperament for torture, brief urge to cut an ear off from Bole and Flint aside. But he did have a need for information and the soul deep chill of the Dark that stole away all emotion.

Macnair's brief confidence faltered when he felt the cold. It was like a great black abyss had opened up behind him, eager to swallow him whole. And then came the slash of the knife that took his ear off and made him howl in pain.

Harry waited patiently for his captive to settle down before he started speaking, his voice now cold, flat and filled with a terrible inevitability. "I don't have the disposition required to cast the Cruciatus. Legilimency is clumsy and imprecise. I don't know if you can fight off Veritaserum. You will tell me what I want to know or I will keep cutting pieces off you until there's nothing left to cut and I will know if you lie."

And Macnair believed it. Potter really would keep carving until there was nothing left of him. He had been on the wrong end of the Dark Lord's Cruciatus once and it had hurt far worse than losing an ear, but at least it left you whole. So he talked.

"Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, Augustus Rookwood, Evan Rosier."

Harry hummed thoughtfully. Nothing really new there, just a confirmation of some very well educated guesses. Those were all Inner Circle Death Eaters, Voldemort's favorites, of which only Evan Rosier and Malfoy were dead and the rest were in Azkaban. There were others that Harry knew of or at least suspected, but Macnair may not necessarily be aware of them. The Dark Mark on his arm indicated that he was one of Voldemort's more favored minions, but clearly not _that_ favored. Useless, in other words.

"Give me the names of every Death Eater you know."

"I don't really know of any others for certain...we operated in secrecy and only the Dark Lord knew all of us."

"Then make some educated guesses."

Macnair struggled with himself for a few moments, a sense of indebtedness warring with fear and self-preservation. Self-preservation won. "Robert Mulciber Sr., Maxwell Avery Sr., Thaddeus Nott."

The lords of their Houses. Narcissa had already informed him of where their sympathies lay, not that it was hard to guess since Mulciber and Avery had sons that were 'Imperiused', but he hadn't thought they'd be reckless enough to pledge themselves to a Dark Lord directly. "How certain are you that they're Death Eaters?"

"Nott, Mulciber, Avery and Malfoy vouched on my behalf after the Dark Lord fell to keep me out of Azkaban and hinted at old friendships later, so I'm pretty sure."

Ah, so they'd kept Macnair out of Azkaban and used that debt to control him, though why they would want control of the Ministry's executioner he couldn't fathom. Maybe they were just being thorough.

More to the point, Macnair thought he was being clever by naming those that had him by the balls. Perhaps hoping that he'd get rid of them for him?

"Who else?"

"Nobody, those are the only ones I know." _Lie._

"Do you want to lose the other ear that badly?"

Macnair was a solitary man that didn't really have friends, but he remembered a few raids where he and a pair of curiously synchronised Death Eaters had some fun together with the mudbloods or muggles they had targeted. Still, that wasn't enough for him to endure maiming at Potter's hands and he was deeply frightened by his inability to sneak even this small attempt at deception past him. "Alecto and Amycus Carrow. They're twins that do everything together."

Another family sympathetic to Voldemort, but Narcissa hadn't been able to give him any names. "And you knew a pair of Death Eaters that did everything together?" Harry guessed.

"Yes."

"Interesting. Alecto and Amycus are only cousins to the main line Carrows if I recall correctly. Do they live in the family manor?"

"No, they have their own place somewhere in the Scottish Highlands, I don't know where exactly." Macnair admitted in defeat, knowing that the Carrow twins would likely end up in the same position as him before long.

"Friends of yours?" Harry asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

Macnair didn't rise to the bait.

"Moving on, tell me how Voldemort acts, how he leads, how are raids organised, how he got his funds, where in the Ministry he had supporters and are they still in place, where did you conduct your meetings..." Harry asked all of this and more.

To Macnair, it sounded like Potter was planning to fight a war that was already over. He didn't want to talk, but the threat of further maiming gave him no choice. He didn't have answers for every question, but he spilled the beans everything he did know.

"Did Voldemort have any noteworthy non-Death Eater allies?"

"A few giants, the dementors, Fenrir Greyback's werewolf pack."

All of which would be problematic if he ever returned, but would almost certainly not be entrusted with a piece of his soul to guard.

"Where is Greyback right now?"

"I don't know."

"Very well, I have no more questions." Harry said and walked back to face his captive.

Macnair licked his lips nervously, trying to ignore the wetness on the right side of his head and the continuing throb of pain from his shorn ear. "Now what?"

Harry didn't answer at first, choosing instead to walk back to his chair and sit down. The knife was still in his hand and he stared at the bloodstains on it contemplatively for a while before speaking. "You're a pureblood, yes?"

Macnair was utterly baffled, but saw no reason to lie. "Yes."

"And I'm a halfblood?"

Macnair was still baffled, but also becoming wary. "Yes."

"And my mother was a mudblood?"

Macnair now swallowed nervously, feeling as if he was standing on very thin ice. Still, the question had been framed in such a way that there wasn't much he could do besides agree. "Yes?"

"Such a curious thing, blood." Harry said musingly, still turning the knife over. "I completely understand where the belief in blood purity comes from. The idea of legacy has been floating around humanity's collective consciousness since the dawn of our species, the notion that some blood is purer than others is a natural evolution of that. It's terribly dumb, but then so are people."

"Where are you going with this?" Macnair asked.

"I've heard it said that Voldemort and his Death Eaters championed the 'old ways'. Is that true?"

"Yes..."

"Old ways, the established order of things, carrying a weight of history and tradition. It has a certain prestigious ring to it, doesn't it?"

"I guess?" Macnair said uncertainly.

"Did you know that the first magics all dealt with blood? Blood oaths, blood sacrifices, blood this and blood that. It was all about the blood and little wonder, without _this_ " Harry said, pointing the kukri at the ruined wand that was still on the table. "bloodletting was one of the few ways magic could be performed that didn't require decades and decades of training. Volatile, dangerous magic, often backfiring on the user, but magic all the same. Those were the good old days, weren't they? The times when mighty wizards built their power on the blood and bones of their enemies. The _real o_ ld ways."

Macnair had been growing steadily paler as the monologue went on, but that last sentence had him trying to struggle out of his bonds. "No!"

"Don't fret, I'm not going to use you in some kind of blood ritual." Harry said with a scoff.

Macnair sighed in relief.

"I'm still going to kill you though."

"But I told you everything you wanted to know!" Macnair yelled furiously.

"And I told you that you wouldn't be leaving here." Harry pointed out reasonably, standing up and moving to the side to pick up a bit of leftover rope, firmly gripping the ends and pulling it taut a few times.

"Wait! I can help you!" Macnair said desperately.

"You _have_ helped me, not as much as I'd hoped, but some. Your usefulness is at an end though."

"But you'll need servants, won't you?"

"What for?" Harry asked, honestly perplexed.

"Aren't you looking to become a Dark Lord and take the country for yourself like Voldemort?" Macnair knew full well that Potter had a different set of ideals than Voldemort and seemed fond of mudbloods, but that didn't matter to him much. He was a killer and killing was killing. He'd gladly switch allegiances if he got to kill again. Plus, he really didn't want to die.

The question broke through the emotionless cold Harry had submerged himself in and made him laugh.

"That's a good one." Harry said with a final chuckle. "I mean, I understand how you could think that, but it's still ridiculous. Not only is taking over a country the last thing I'd want, but you and Voldemort and all the other morons parading around in masks don't know anything about True Dark. All you are is a liability and I have no use for you."

Seeing his would-be executioner moving towards him with grim intent had Macnair panicking. "No! Stop!"

"This is my first time murdering someone like this, so please excuse any clumsiness." Harry said as he moved behind the man, feeling very cold inside.

A few minutes later, he felt the Void snatch away Macnair's soul and he let go of the rope with a deep exhale. A knife would have been simpler, but he didn't want a bloody mess all over the floor.

Harry felt no prickles of a guilty conscience over what he'd just done, just like he hadn't felt any for killing Malfoy. How could he, when the Void's hunger for life was part of him? Or maybe it was because both men had been pretty evil even from an objective standpoint. It was hard to tell sometimes with the way his humanity had become a balancing scale between Light and Dark, neither of which really lent themselves to such tender emotions as guilt or regret.

He had contemplated using Macnair's death for a particular purpose, but then the man had mentioned the Carrow twins. The whole thing would require some adjustment, but he could do that while his ravens scoured the Scottish highlands for the Carrows. It would be cutting things a bit close since they were scheduled to leave for America at the end of February, but there should be time. It would be much more powerful too...

He tried to cast a Vanishing Spell on Macnair's body, scowling when the lingering magic in the corpse resisted it. He hadn't been aware that there was a waiting period before it could be disposed of. How inconvenient, yet also interesting.

"Kreacher."

The old elf appeared, took in the scene and pinned Harry with eyes full of admiration.

"Does Master want Kreacher to dispose of the body?" He asked hopefully.

"I was going to tell you to just clean up the blood and that ear... You've disposed of bodies before?"

"Kreacher has." The old elf said proudly.

"Why am I not surprised?" Harry said wryly.

"If Master wishes, Kreacher could feed the body to Master's birds." Kreacher offered.

Harry opened his mouth to refuse, only to close it and seriously consider the idea instead. The thought of having Macnair's body butchered and turned into bird food elicited no emotional reaction whatsoever and it had been only reflex that had made refusal his initial impulse. Besides various nuts, seeds and whatnot, he was currently feeding them pork and beef. Macnair was already dead and had certainly been far less congenial than a cow or pig. Why not?

Well he'd be thought of as a monster by anyone that learned of it(except Luna), because the world was full of sentimental wimps.

Fuck it. Nobody aside from him, Luna and the house-elves went up to the ravenry anyway. "Go ahead, just don't let anyone see you and remember to get rid of the bones once you're done." The magic in the remains should fade soon enough and the house-elf would be able to Vanish them easily enough once that happened.

Kreacher eagerly popped away with Macnair's body, leaving Harry alone to contemplate his own blasé attitude to what he'd just done.

While he didn't feel guilty about it and knew that it was better to start killing now than when Voldie came back, the ever growing issue was going to be the people close to him. How was he supposed to tell his playful godfather that he was planning a murder spree? Sirius might have been born into the Black family, but he had a rather large amount of scruples. Still, Harry was fairly confident he could convince Sirius that it was necessary if it came down to it.

But what about Penny? Kind, helpful and oh-so-sheltered Penny. She'd been unsettled for weeks after he'd killed Lucius and that had been both pretty justified and someone she'd hated. Well maybe not hated, but definitely resented. Convincing her that preemptively murdering Voldemort's support base was the best thing to do was just not going to happen. Even if he told her about the Horcruxes. Penny hadn't lived through the last war and wasn't cynical enough to really understand how bad things could and would get if the Dark Lord came back with things as they were now.

If only they were more like Luna...Luna would understand. Or at least not care

Fleur was different issue. She had already seen him kill more than once and the Joining would tell her that he was not exactly Mahatma Gandhi. She was a harder person than her beauty would make one think and the feelings she had for him should sway her, but he still worried about her reaction. He'd become very fond of her and didn't want her to leave.

XXXXX

Macnair may have been useless as far as the Horcruxes were concerned, but it had lodged a couple of ideas in Harry's mind all the same. One of them he was currently getting a start on.

"Narcissa, I'm giving you a project to work on while I'm in North America."

"What kind of project?" Narcissa didn't look too surprised. Penny must have told her that he liked to hand out assignments.

"I want you to draft a new werewolf legislation for me to propose in the Wizengamot. Something more sensible than what we have in place now."

"More sensible?" She repeated, brows furrowed. "The only thing more that we could do would be to round them up and kill them, but Dumbledore and his supporters have blocked that in the past."

Harry shook his head. Narcissa was coming along, but she was still casually bigoted in many ways. "By 'more sensible' I meant more lenient. The werewolf laws are ridiculous right now and are practically designed to turn them into a problem. Draft a proposal to provide free Wolfsbane so that they don't go on rampages every month or something. Work with Penny on it and I'll have Sirius get in touch with Remus Lupin so that you can get the input of an actual werewolf."

Harry may not like the self-pitying attitude of the man, but he would make use of him all the same.

"But-" Narcissa protested, clearly not wanting to have anything to do with making the lives of werewolves easier.

"Do you trust me, Cissy?" He cut her off.

"Of course." She answered without hesitation.

"Then trust me when I tell you that this is important. I need you to do this for me."

Narcissa visibly put aside her distaste for werewolves and looked at him shrewdly. "Does it have anything to do with our talk from the other day and the sudden disappearance of Walden Macnair?"

"It does."

That seemed to be enough for her and she nodded. "Alright then, I will do my best, but you know that the Wizengamot won't be eager to give werewolves more rights."

"That doesn't actually matter too much." Harry smirked. "What matters is that I'm seen to support a peaceful werewolf integration into the rest of magical society."

Given the type of man he'd heard Greyback was, the notion of peaceful werewolves should get him frothing and draw him into the open. The vicious werewolf might not have any political power or even be a marked Death Eater, but he was a weapon of terror for Voldemort and provided other werewolves as fighters for him. He needed to die in the event of the Dark Lord's resurrection.

XXXXX

 _February 12th._

"Come on, Remus, lighten up." Sirius said as they approached Potter Manor on foot after having apparated in some distance away.

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one Harry has a grudge against." Remus muttered.

Sirius had come to fetch him from the German countryside where he'd been living, saying that Harry had a job for him if he wanted it. Remus would have thought it was charity if he was on better terms with Harry. Still, he couldn't have refused even if there wasn't some much needed money involved. He'd screwed up badly after James and Lily were killed and didn't feel like he had any right to refuse a request from their son.

"Harry isn't holding a grudge against you." Sirius replied, exasperated. "He's just a bit...prickly. Besides, he's cooled off quite a bit since you last saw him. Must be Fleur's doing."

Ah yes, Harry's veela paramour. Remus had kept in touch with Sirius and knew about that development. James would be so proud.

"Luna's too."

And there was the other girl that Harry was sleeping with, the very young one. Lily would have been _very_ displeased. Actually, Lily would have been very displeased that her fifteen-year-old son was sexually active at all. More so that he had been since he was thirteen.

"Hells, for all I know he's fucking Narcissa too. I wouldn't put it past the bugger even if he denies it."

Remus nearly tripped over his own feet. Harry and Narcissa Malfoy, or Black as the case may be? He couldn't picture it even if he knew that Lucius' widow now worked for the new Lord Black, who was coincidentally also the one that had widowed her.

"You can't be serius?!" He said incredulously.

"I'm always Sirius."

Remus merely sighed. He'd walked right into that one. Best to just change the subject instead of encouraging his old friend. "Lots of ravens around here, crows too."

"You can blame Harry for that." Sirius said with an odd little grin.

"What do you mean?"

"He's got a thing for these birds. Creeps the shite out of everyone besides him and Luna though, which probably just encourages him now that I think about it."

Remus wasn't sure what to make of that, but he did agree that the great mass of birds turning the manor and everything around it black with their feathers was damned creepy.

The two Marauders made their way into the manor and then into the sitting room where Harry and Narcissa were waiting for them.

Remus had only seen Narcissa up close a few times when she had come to sneer at Sirius about how much of a disgrace he was to the Black family, and that had been when they were still in Hogwarts. She was older and more refined now, but she still had that cold beauty that she had once been known for.

Harry was the bigger surprise. Tall, with thick black hair held in a neat ponytail that reached down to his shoulder blades, eyes that were somehow even more vibrant than Remus remembered Lily's being, a face that was at once so much like James' yet also had many hints of his mother in it and looked sharper without the glasses, a lean sort of muscle definition that was almost unheard of in a wizard...Fifteen years old and he looked like a full grown man. When he'd last seen him, Remus had thought his early blooming would slow down. Apparently not.

"Lupin." Even his voice sounded adult, with none of the awkward cracking that puberty should have given it.

"Harry, It's good to see you again." Remus replied warmly, shaking the offered hand. So far so good. There was certainly less tension between them than there had been at their last meeting. Maybe Sirius had been right.

"You know Narcissa?" Harry asked, gesturing to the elegantly robed blonde witch.

"We've met." Said blonde witch said stiffly. She did not offer her hand for him to shake, but Remus hadn't expected her to. Known werewolves generally didn't get that courtesy, if they got any at all.

While Remus had accepted the slight with familiar resignation, Harry didn't seem willing to do so. The look he gave Narcissa put a visible crack into her composed air before she stiffly offered her hand.

Remus shook it, wondering what had gotten his inner wolf's hackles up just then.

"Let's get to the point then." Harry said, obviously ignoring what had just occured. "Lupin, I asked Sirius to get you because Narcissa will be putting together a revised werewolf legislation for me to propose in the Wizengamot and I figured that having the opinion of an actual werewolf would be for the best. You will of course be compensated for your time."

"There's no need for that." Remus said, despite knowing with painful clarity how little money he actually had. He was still a wizard and didn't need much to make do.

"Remus." Sirius hissed at him with clear exasperation.

"Do you make a habit of working for free?" Harry asked sardonically.

"Well, no." Remus was forced to admit.

"Then stop being difficult. I need a reasonably intelligent werewolf and I figured you were one since you managed to teach at Hogwarts."

What had Sirius called Harry? Prickly? Yes, prickly was a good word to describe James and Lily's son. Not so much in the 'easily offended' way, but rather in a terse, abrupt way.

"Alright." Remus conceded. He still felt uncomfortable being paid to do something that he would gladly do for free, but Harry seemed determined to keep their interaction professional. Saddening, but not really surprising.

"Good." Harry said with a decisive nod. "Sirius, Luna, Fleur and I will be going to America soon, but we can get started on the outline now so that you and Narcissa will be able to work out the specifics while we're gone."

And so they did.

It was a bit of an odd discussion, with Sirius occasionally having something to add but mostly just interjecting the occasional joke, Narcissa's stiff demeanor and his own slight awkwardness.

Harry was the biggest oddity though. While he was unmistakably the one whose presence was keeping Narcissa compliant, he was also obviously wishing to be somewhere else. It wasn't long after they started that he wandlessly conjured up a small ball of flame and started moving it around. After a while he progressed to two flames and then three.

It was distracting to have that impressive display happening right in front of him, but Sirius had warned him that Harry could get like this. Whenever he wasn't focused on something else, he would practice his magic. That actually made Harry's sudden decision to support werewolf rights more than a bit strange. If Sirius was to be believed, Harry was mostly indifferent to the world and would barely leave his room if it wasn't for the women in his life. Remus hoped he would get to meet this veela that Harry had taken a shine to.

As it turned out, he _did_ get to meet her, though not quite in the way he expected. Then again, the instigator of that meeting had always been unpredictable.

The conversation about the new werewolf legislation had been going on for about an hour when his most baffling former student skipped into the room, made a beeline for Harry, pushed him into an armchair and plopped herself into his lap with a wiggle.

"Hello, Professor Lupin." Luna Lovegood chirped.

"Hello, Ms. Lovegood." Remus said back, bemused. He wasn't even going to ask why she was wearing a hamster themed onesie. And were those...? Yes, those were socks with individual toes, each a different color.

"Nice outfit." Sirius commented, grinning like a loon.

"Thank you!" Luna beamed. "Now Boo won't be so lonely."

"Boo?" Remus asked.

"My miniature giant space hamster."

Remus blinked. What in the world was a miniature giant space hamster?

He was given no time to puzzle it out as a vision of beauty walked into the room. The silver-blonde hair and unnaturally flawless face betrayed her nature as a veela. Oh yes, James would be proud.

"Luna, I told you not to bother 'Arry right now." What he presumed was Fleur Delacour scolded with exasperation.

"It's alright, Fleur, we were just finishing up anyway." Harry said, poking his fingers into Luna's sides and making her jump out of his lap with a squeal. "Did you have fun with your shopping trip?"

" _Oui_ , it may not be up to French standards, but we made do." Fleur answered.

"Fleur was showing me how to crush the spirits of annoying men who think they're good with women." Luna piped up again.

Fleur preened proudly.

Sirius snickered and Remus felt a smile pulling at his own lips. He could easily imagine a woman as beautiful as Fleur being constantly approached by hopeful men and boys. He could also imagine her destroying their egos.

"Good for you, Luna." Harry said indulgently. "Right, introductions. Fleur, Remus Lupin. Lupin, Fleur Delacour."

"Ah, the _loup-garou_ you mentioned. _Enchanté_." Fleur said, offering her hand without hesitation.

"My pleasure." And Remus meant it too. He had been prepared for a negative reaction when she had opened up with his werewolf status, but was pleasantly surprised by her frank acceptance. Harry had chosen well.

The beautiful veela then turned back to Harry. "Come up to the bedroom when you finish 'ere. I 'ave something to show you."

If the blatant promise in her tone wasn't enough indication of what she had to show him, then the steamy kiss that had Remus feeling like a dirty voyeur certainly did the trick. Harry had _definitely_ chosen well.

"Will do." Harry said with a smirk. Remus had no idea how he could even think straight after a kiss like that.

Luna took that opportunity to jump into Harry's arms and extract a kiss of her own, skipping off after the veela with a giggle immediately after. What a strange pair they made.

"Right, I'll let you two arrange your schedules between yourselves." Harry said, looking between Remus and Narcissa. "I've already arranged for your pay and a supply of Wolfsbane with Penny, but don't hesitate to talk to her if you need additional spending money for this project. I want it done by the time we get back from America, understand?"

The former was aimed more at Remus and he was both grateful for the care and embarrassed that it was coming from someone that should by all rights still be taken care of himself. The latter was aimed at Narcissa and had the beast within getting agitated again for some reason.

They both murmured their agreement and Harry left, leaving just him, Sirius and Narcissa in the room.

Remus looked at the blonde witch with a strained smile. "So, how do you want to do this?"

Judging by the look in her eyes, she didn't want to do it at all, but was going to anyway because Harry had ordered it. Remus never thought he'd see the day that proud, haughty Narcissa Black would take orders from a halfblood, yet here it was.

XXXXX

 _February 19th._

Harry weaved a subtle enchantment over Fleur and Luna, ensuring that they wouldn't wake up as he extricated himself from the bed. They probably wouldn't have anyway as he had quite deliberately exhausted them earlier and then made sure that they went to bed in such a way that he was spooning Fleur and Fleur was spooning Luna to make it easier to get away, but no point in taking chances. He had places to be.

Huginn and Muninn had reported that they'd finally found the Carrow twins. The Scottish highlands were not exactly a small area and tracking them down had been a pain even for birds.

After quickly getting dressed and flying out a short distance from the manor in his raven form, Harry transformed back into a human, apparated to Scotland and resumed his flight.

The Sun had long since set and it was the New Moon, leaving the dark highlands illuminated only by the stars. It was so beautiful that Harry was momentarily tempted to abandon his plans and just spend a few hours flying aimlessly over the countryside. But no, he hadn't gotten everything ready just to abandon his plans in a fit of whimsy.

He had apparated in quite far, so it took him just under an hour to reach the house that Amycus and Alecto Carrow had built for themselves.

It was a well built but rather modest-looking construction of stone. The only wards on it were the ones that kept muggles away. No surprise there, only the old family manors tended to have serious wards installed.

Harry walked up to the door and let himself in. It wasn't even locked.

The house was predictably bigger on the inside. The furniture was comfortable and good quality, very cozy. Maybe he could send Kreacher to steal it all later and make it look like they'd simply moved off without telling anyone? House-elf magic was very 'quiet' and hard to detect...

Harry had chosen this late hour with the intention of snatching the Carrows from their beds. That's when he beheld something that made a wry grin grow on his face.

There was only one bed, with both Alecto and Amycus sleeping in it. Naked.

Incest, there was a shocker. Not.

It had been one possible explanation for why brother and sister would choose to live alone in the arse end of nowhere. Harry didn't really have anything against incest he supposed, except if it produced...results. There were too many bacon sniffing sycophants in the world already.

Other than that, he was actually happy about this development. It would make what came later that much more potent.

Harry Kept his magic tightly leashed as he took two very thin hypodermic needles filled with a powerful sleeping potion from where they were holstered on his belt. Ironically, sleeping wizards and witches were more likely to detect a foreign presence than awake ones. No conscious mind to get in the way of what they were sensing.

Injecting both of the Carrows at once would be a bit tricky, but there was no help for it. He could hardly just club them over the head like he'd done to Macnair, nor could he make them drink the potion.

Luckily, the potion worked even faster when injected directly into the bloodstream and neither of the Carrows even woke up before they fell into the potion induced slumber.

That done, Harry took a shrunken trunk from his pocket and unshrunk it, unceremoniously stuffing the two sleeping beauties into it. Since that bit of magic was in the trunk itself, it wouldn't leave any traces for the Aurors to find. Probably an unnecessary precaution since their disappearance might not even be noted before all the traces faded.

XXXXX

Amycus Carrow woke up feeling cold and uncomfortable, which was certainly not normal.

Waking up with his arms and legs bound spread eagle in stone shackles that looked to be growing out of the floor was even less normal.

Catching sight of his sister tied to a chair off to the side, just as naked as him, was downright alarming.

Noting that there seemed to be a ritual circle inscribed in blood around his bound form and a bone-handled dagger hovering in the air a few feet above his heart was good cause for panic.

"Alecto!" He hissed, wanting to scream yet also wanting to whisper, as if that would keep the attention of whoever had done this away. "Alecto, wake up!"

To his surprise, she actually did.

"Amycus?" She said groggily. "Where are we? What's going on?"

Amycus would have liked to know that himself. "I don't know, I just woke up."

"Good morning." A third voice said, sending a chill of fear up Amycus' spine.

He couldn't see who it was from his position, but Alecto could. "Potter?!"

"Potter?!" Amycus echoed his twin sister's incredulity.

"The one and only." The bastard sounded amused.

Amycus exchanged an uneasy glance with his sister, not sure how to react or what to say. Their current situation didn't portend anything good.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here." Potter said after a moment. "Firstly, you're here to answer a few questions."

"What kind of questions?" Alecto asked, trying to be strong, but Amycus could hear the fear in her voice. He was pretty afraid himself actually. It was hard to be anything else when you were naked and restrained, especially with that knife hanging ominously above his chest...

Potter stepped behind Alecto and gripped her shoulders. Amycus could see the way his sister stiffened and felt a surge of protective jealousy rise up inside him.

"Keep your hands off her!" He snarled.

"Or else what? You'll pelt me with harsh language?" The bastard taunted.

"I'll kill you!" Amycus swore and he meant it. As soon as he got free, he would kill Potter. Nobody touched his sister except him, nobody.

"Amycus!" Alecto hissed warningly.

"Well that tells me who the brains is between the two of you." Potter smirked. "And you don't have to worry your tiny little brain over it. Amusing as it would be to fuck your sister and make you watch, she's far too ugly for me, even if it would be poetic justice given the taint I can sense on your souls."

Amycus wasn't sure whether to be relieved or infuriated by that. Yes, he knew that neither he nor his sister were classically good looking. Their noses were somewhat flat and their eyes too far apart, which had earned them more than a few unflattering comparisons to pigs when they were growing up. They were also shorter than the norm, with stooped shoulders and unattractive body shapes.

Was it any wonder that they'd found comfort in each other?

"Taint?" Alecto asked nervously.

"Oh yes, didn't you know? Every action committed leaves a mark on one's soul for good or ill, the more impactful the action, the greater the mark. It took me a long time before I was able to make some sense of it and much of it still eludes me, but some things are easy enough to puzzle out. I can tell that both of you are sadists, murderers and rapists."

Amycus didn't know about this soul sensing business...it all sounded like some twaddle that Dumbledore might say. Still, Potter was right. Both he and his sister were all of that and more, you had to be to make it as part of the Dark Lord's Inner Circle.

And it had felt so good to show the damn mudbloods what being a pureblood meant and where they could stuff their lectures on the dangers of inbreeding. As if the sub-human scum could know better than a pureblood.

"You two are even worse than Macnair in fact. He at least was more interested in killing than torture."

"Macnair?" Amycus repeated numbly. Hadn't he gone missing about a week ago?

"What did you do to him?" Alecto asked fearfully.

Potter took out a strange, inward curving knife with a broad, almost axe-like tip and placed it on behind his sister's ear. "The same thing I'll do to you if you don't answer my questions honestly."

He wasn't smirking or taunting now. He wasn't amused anymore. There was only a grim determination in his face and that was somehow even more chilling than the amusement.

"You bastard, let her go!" Amycus shouted.

"I wonder how many people said that to you?" Potter said musingly, seeming almost academic about it. "Well no matter, I guess you get to experience the other side of things this time. Aren't you happy that I'm willing to stoop to your level and broaden your horizons?"

"Alright, I'll tell you whatever you want, just don't hurt her." Amycus pleaded.

Potter nodded, set up a dictation quill and started asking his questions. Strange questions, about Voldemort and whether they knew anyone he had entrusted with an object to guard. Amycus had no idea what Potter was after, but he answered honestly that he didn't know anything about that.

"Well that was a bust." Potter muttered, but didn't seem surprised or upset. "I suppose if I ask you who would be entrusted to guard something of his, you'd tell me it would be Bellatrix, Lucius Malfoy or Antonin Dolohov?"

"Yes..." Amycus said slowly. Those were known to be some of the Dark Lord's highest ranked Death Eaters, so if anyone was entrusted with something to guard it would be them.

"Alright, let's move on then. Give me the names of every Death Eater you know."

Amycus tensed and he could see his sister doing the same. Betraying fellow Death Eaters was never a good idea. They tended to take exception to that.

But Potter took exception to their silence and sliced down with the knife, making his sister shriek in pain as her ear was severed.

Amycus struggled furiously in his stone bonds and shouted abuse, but Potter looked neither impressed nor threatened. For the first time, he truly understood how hard it was to watch someone you loved suffer, much harder than suffering yourself. He didn't appreciate the lesson.

"Names, or we see if Alecto's droopy tits look any better without nipples." The bastard Potter said over his sister's pained whimpers once Amycus had exhausted himself with his ineffectual struggles.

Amycus glared furiously, but started talking at Potter's raised eyebrow, not wanting Alecto to suffer any more. He gave every name he knew or suspected; Avery, Nott, Mulciber, Crabbe, Goyle, Rowle, Jugson, Gibbon. At the end of it, Potter merely nodded thoughtfully and moved on to a new subject.

"You know more than Macnair did, good." Potter said, sounding grimly satisfied. "Now let's talk about Voldemort..."

Amycus had no idea why Potter wanted to know what the Dark Lord was like as a man and how he led, nor did he know why he wanted to know about the organisation of the Death Eaters and how they had interacted with the Ministry during the war and a dozen other things. Still, he talked to keep his sister from being maimed any further. Alecto also contributed sometimes, but mostly just tried to keep her pained whimpers quiet.

Finally, that line of questioning ended and Potter moved on to something else.

"What of Lord Alexius Carrow, did he know about you two being Death Eaters? Did he approve?"

Amycus hesitated again, causing Potter to sigh and move the blade towards his sister's nipples.

"Yes! He knew!" Amycus quickly shouted. "He was proud of us for taking up such a noble cause."

"Was he now? We've already established that he paid a tribute to the Dark Lord, but did he give _you_ anything since he was so proud? Rare books? Magical artifacts?"

"No." Amycus spat.

"You are lying to me." Potter said coldly, ignoring Amycus' shouted protestations, threats and pleas as he cut off Alecto's remaining ear.

"He didn't give us anything!" Amycus screamed at their captor, enraged by his sister's pain. "All he did was give us access to some of the books that only the main line Carrows are supposed to see. We didn't even get much use out of them."

Potter snorted in disgust at that. Why, Amycus had no idea, nor was he in the mood to care.

"Why are you doing this?" Alecto sobbed, blood now trickling down her body from both sides of her head. "We never did anything to you!"

"You never did anything to me?" Potter echoed, something dangerous in his tone. "You think that matters? I would have been happy to keep to myself, but Lucius Malfoy showed me how that wasn't an option. I would have left the country and let Britain drown in its own juices, but Voldemort will never leave me alone because of that fucking prophecy. I won't wait for him to come back before I start acting. I won't wait for you to be ready to restart the war. I won't have him or you or any of the other sneering, inbred monsters infesting this country killing my family like you killed so many others, even if I have to personally put every last one of you into the ground."

Amycus didn't have time to think about this prophecy or about the implication that the Dark Lord still lived or even to appreciate what a right bastard Potter was before Alecto's hair was pulled on harshly and the knife placed on her throat.

"NO!" He screamed over her terrified and pained shriek.

Then Potter opened up her throat and his sweet sister's blood sprayed from the massive wound, drenching him in red.

Amycus snapped and roared unintelligibly with grief and rage and hate. His sister had been the only person in the world that mattered to him, the only one that had really loved him and seeing her murdered like this was more than he could take.

The ritual circle glowed and the bone-handled dagger that he'd tried to ignore shivered in the air. Amycus' magic slipped away from his control and shook the room.

Then the dagger shot downward like a crossbow bolt, slipped throught his ribs and impaled him through the heart.

Amycus' last thought was not even a thought, but rather an all-consuming hatred.

XXXXX

Harry stood on his bedroom's balcony, looking towards the still dark eastern horizon.

He looked down at the sheathed bone-handled dagger in his hands and drew it. The ten inches of once bright steel was now blackened, but the feel of it was blacker still.

Amycus Carrow's last moments lived on in the dagger, his hate and his rage and his _need_ to kill to avenge the murder of his sister. The wounds caused by it would never heal and even a small cut would be a dire wound because of the poisonous hatred it carried.

It was a weapon of surpassing enchantment against which there was no defense.

It was a dark artifact of the highest order, the mere possesion of which would get a person into eyeballs deep shit with the Ministry. For its creation, the shit was so deep that even a submarine wouldn't be able to reach the bottom.

It was an older form of enchantment, one that the Ministries of Magic all over the world had tried hard to stamp out, with admittedly good reason. No Arithmancy or runework here, just blood and sacrifice.

It had been a huge, bloody mess. Kreacher had looked at him like he was some kind of blood drenched god when he'd been called for the clean up, the silly bugger.

"I'll call you Blackrazor." Harry muttered to his new weapon and sheathed it again.

The ritual circle had been drawn in his blood and the dagger bound into his service before he'd even gone to fetch the Carrows. He alone could safely handle Blackrazor, he alone was safe from its hate. Ironic, since it was him that the hate was aimed at most of all.

He knew it was an evil thing and something that he would have to be extremely careful with, but it might come in handy. Plus, he'd really wanted to try out this kind of ritual and the world would not mourn the loss of the Carrow twins.

But he really needed to find somewhere other than Grimmauld Place for this kind of thing. The old residence of the Black family might be abandoned at the moment, but it was still a bit too well known for his tastes. It had good containment and masking wards to prevent magical leakage from being detected, that was true, but those could be set up elsewhere just as well.

Harry continued to stand there for some time, staring towards the slowly brightening east. Wherever this theoretical hidden sanctum would be, it would need a proper wizard's tower. Or maybe it could be all tower. A balcony or a porch just didn't have the same gravitas and his inner raven liked high places.

The Sun rose and Harry breathed in deep, filling himself with its power. The familiar burn and restless agitation was as uncomfortable as ever, but it chased away the last vestiges of the clinging Dark, which was always especially bad during the nights of the New Moon.

The Dark was terribly useful for silencing emotional reluctance in order to do what needed doing, but Harry did not allow himself to forget that the soothing sense of peace was dangerous. The balance was more important.

He felt another miniature sunrise happening behind him as well and smiled slightly. Fleur could put a rooster to shame with her morning routine. Right now, she would be smiling slightly, then frowning when she realised he wasn't there, looking around, noticing him on the balcony, getting out of bed, putting on her favorite fuzzy blue robe and slippers, walking towards him and...

"'Arry?"

"Good morning." He greeted without turning around.

"How long 'ave you been up?" She asked as she stepped to his side. He could hear the slight pout in her voice.

"Twenty-four hours." Harry replied honestly. It was time to come clean on a few things and see what came of it. He wouldn't be able to hide what he was doing for long either way.

"But you went to bed with us! Are you telling me that you slipped away after Luna and I fell asleep?"

"Yes."

"I must be a failure as a veela if you still felt the need to visit another woman's bed after last night." Fleur joked. He did like that about her, this lack of jealousy. It made life much less stressful.

"Your sexual prowess is beyond reproach, _ma chérie._ It was not more sex I was after." He told her with a grin, deliberately using her native French to butter her up a bit more.

"What was it then?"

Here it was, the moment of truth.

"I made this." He said and drew Blackrazor from its sheath.

Fleur recoiled from the dagger as if it was a rattlesnake, undoubtedly able to sense its foul magic.

"'Arry..." She began, swallowing nervously. "Why? And 'ow?"

"Mostly to see if I could." He admitted honestly, resheathing the blade. "As for the how...I kidnapped two people from their bed and used their murder to power a blood ritual."

Fleur inhaled sharply and Harry could see that she was visibly struggling put this new information into the context of what she knew.

"Explain." She ordered curtly.

Harry was happy to do so. He told her everything about his recent actions, including Macnair.

"Good riddance then." Fleur declared unsympathetically once she learned they had been Death Eaters. Veela had a bad history with people like that. "But I don't understand, why are you 'unting them now?"

"Voldemort isn't quite dead yet." He sighed.

"What?" She exclaimed in shock. "' _Ow_?"

"Long story, I'll tell you when Luna wakes up. She needs to hear this too. For now, I just want you to realise that I'm going to keep killing his followers and that being around me will get very dangerous in the future."

Fleur gave him a look that was pure exasperation'. "What is that supposed to be? A chance for me to leave?"

"I hear it's the noble thing to do before bringing danger upon one's loved ones." Harry replied with a cheeky grin.

"You should 'ave done it before I fell in love with you then, stupid man."

"Well I didn't want you to _actually_ leave."

"Hmph, I should 'ave expected this to be the extent of English nobility."

"What are you talking about? I am the perfect English noble! I kept up the appearance of decency while actually being a hypocritical arsehole."

"Well I suppose you are at least a passable lover even if the rest of you is disgustingly English." Fleur said in a tone of resignation. "I might even be able to teach you to be a proper Frenchman after a few years of work."

That demanded retribution and Harry used his day's worth of scratchy stubble to enact it, making the veela shriek protests about unshaved barbarians and delicate skin.

That woke up Luna and all three of them moved their fun into the shower.

XXXXX

 _February 24th._

Tonks watched with envious eyes as Luna and Fleur stared at the black feathers floating in front of them, a material that was plentiful around Potter Manor these days given Harry's strange fondness for croaking corvids.

Luna's feather shook, dipped and often fell, but she could float it without a wand. Fleur's magic had a tilt towards the incendiary and she frequently set her feathers on fire, but she could float them without a wand.

Tonks could stare at feathers all day and they wouldn't budge.

An irritating finger snap pulled her attention away from her fellow students in wandless magic, or real magic as Harry called it.

"Come on, Dora." The man himself said. "Stop pouting and pay attention."

"I'm not pouting." Tonks pouted.

"Sure." Harry didn't sound like he agreed with her. In fact, he sounded amused. The bastard. "Don't worry, you'll get there too."

"I know, it's just..." Tonks trailed off, struggling to find the right words to convey her frustration without sounding ungrateful for the time he was investing in teaching her. She knew that there were people who would kill to be in her shoes, but it was hard not to feel at least a little mopey after several months of no visible improvement.

"I understand. Tell you what, why don't we have a duel?"

"You want to duel? Now?" Tonks asked incredulously. Harry didn't allow any disruptions when he was teaching, certainly not duels.

"Sort of." Harry sounded amused again. "Stunners only."

Tonks could do stunners only. She'd give him a proper pasting too. Powerful he may be, but he wasn't unbeatable.

They took positions, she with a wand and he empty-handed and smirking like he knew some funny secret.

Fleur took a break from her own practice to act as a referee and do the countdown. When she reached zero, Tonks flung herself to the side, throwing a stunner at her ex-boyfriend/teacher.

Harry didn't move. He stood there and let the stunner hit him center-mass. It splashed across his chest and did absolutely nothing.

"What the fuck?!" Tonks demanded, mouth hanging open in pure shock. Fleur giggled at her expression and went back to her own practice.

"What's wrong, Grasshopper?"

"Why are you not unconscious?!" She ignored the Kung Fu reference. If Harry was immune to stunners now, Tonks was pretty sure that she was going to slap him simply for being too fucking bullshit.

"Because I don't want to be."

That didn't explain a damn thing.

"Why does it matter what you want? It's a stunner, it's supposed to stun you!"

"You finally ask the right questions, Grasshopper. Why _does_ it matter what I want?"

Tonks should have figured he was up to something when he proposed that they duel.

"You can't be telling me that you could ignore my spell just because you didn't want it to affect you." That would be, as previously noted, bullshit.

Harry adopted a particular expression, the very same one that always made her think that he needed to grow some wispy white facial hair and squint his eyes to complete the image of a kooky Chinese mystic.

"Describe a rock to me."

Aaaand there it was. Kooky Chinese mystic mode.

"What kind of rock?" She asked with a sigh.

"Any kind."

"Hard, grey, um, cold? Stony?" Who knew that describing a rock would be so difficult?

"So the rock is hard, how would you make it soft?"

"I'd transfigure it into a cushion or something."

"And why would the rock change according to your whims? It's existed in the same state for millions of years, why should the rock give a single fuck about what you want?"

"It's a _rock_." Tonks said slowly, trying not to let her exasperation show. "It doesn't want anything."

"True, the rock is at your mercy if you decide that you need a cushion for your pretty arse, but what if there is no rock? What if there is only me and you are in desperate need of butt padding? Could you transfigure me into a cushion?"

"That's different!" She huffed. "Human transfiguration is really hard and you're way too powerful for me to transfigure."

"Is that so?" He said with a grin. "Step closer."

She did so, looking at him quizzically.

"Now punch me in the gut."

"What?" Tonks goggled.

"Punch me in the gut."

With a shrug and a grin, she punched her ex-boyfriend in the gut. He was tensed for it and only grunted slightly at the hit.

"Did you put your all into that punch?" He asked.

"Of course not." Tonks scoffed. He knew damn well that she could morph herself into a hugely muscled amazon or even a guy if she wanted too. "You'd be puking your guts out if I did that."

"Did you put your all into the stunner?"

That made her pause. "No, I expected you to dodge."

Harry smiled. "Your spell had no conviction."

Ah, so he had been prepared and her spell had been weak because she had expected it to miss.

Without letting on to her thoughts, Tonks punched Harry in the gut again. He wasn't ready this time and bent over with an 'oomph'.

"Your gut has no conviction." She said smugly.

"Cute, but at least you get the idea." He said dryly, rubbing his abdomen. "Now cast another stunner at me."

Tonks stepped back so that she was at optimum spell range and cast the most powerful stunner she could muster at him, pouring all her desire to knock him out into it.

Harry didn't dodge like she half-expected him to and instead allowed himself to be hit. Her spell drove him to his knees and he looked like he was barely clinging to consciousness.

"You okay?" She asked after a minute of seeing him struggle shake it off. She was still a bit miffed that he wasn't out cold, but also very impressed. That stunner had been no joke.

"Yeah, I'm good." He huffed, electing to sit crosslegged on the floor instead of getting back up. "Now put the wand away and sit your butt back down."

Tonks very deliberately did not groan or pout as she did so. She had been hoping for something a little more active than usual.

"So, was there a point to that?" She asked instead.

"No, I just love tanking full power spells."

"You should've told me sooner then, because I love casting full power spells at people."

"Great, I'll keep it in mind."

Tonks grinned at the sarcastic banter, but sobered up quickly. "I suppose you want me to explain to you what just happened here?"

"You suppose correctly." Harry nodded.

"Well the punches were obviously metaphors for the stunners." She began.

"For any spell." He corrected "Your body is easier to control than your magic, but a punch and a spell are not that different in their basic nature. Both are an action taken, spells just happen to be far more complex."

"Right. And you're implying that I could force a transfiguration on you if I caught you by surprise?"

"Any spell is easier if the victim is taken by surprise."

"Uh huh, and you resisted my stunners by, uh, tensing your magic?"

"Not exactly. Why do most magical creatures have some level of magic resistance?"

Tonks blinked at the abrupt subject change. Damnit, she really should be used to him doing this by now. "I don't know, they just do."

Harry gave her an admonishing look and Tonks found herself ducking her head, knowing how he disliked that answer.

"Their magic is fully invested into their bodies. It gives them all sorts of strange properties that are in defiance of the laws of physics. It's also what gives them their magic resistance and makes them useful as potion ingredients. Do you know why human blood or body parts are almost never used in potions?"

"Because it's incredibly illegal?"

"The law is irrelevant. Human potion ingredients are rarely used because they generally don't have much effect in the case of muggles, or have very unpredictable effects in the case of wizards and witches. Our magic isn't really invested in our bodies you see, but our minds. That's why we can cast spells and a dragon can't."

"But our blood _is_ magical, and so is the rest of us. That's a known fact." As a Metamorphmagus, Tonks knew that better than most.

"True, but that's a consequence of us inhabiting these bodies rather than our bodies being innately magical. It also makes our base 'magical properties' highly variable from one person to the next."

"What?"

"Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter."

Tonks burst into surprised laughter. "If you say so, Master Yoda."

"Mock me you will not." Harry said sternly and cast a Stinging Hex at her arm.

"Hey!" She yelped in protest, giving him a pouty sort of glare. It barely even stung, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Joking aside, there is a lot of truth in that quote. Our flesh and blood registers as magical but that fades soon after we die, something that doesn't happen with magical creatures. Why do you think ghosts are possible? Or Legilimency or any other example of mind over matter? Why do you think casting within the aura-space of other magi is a chancy proposition? Our thoughts are not confined to our skulls like a non-magical person's or a magical creature's, they intrude on the world around us-"

"Wait a second!" Tonks interrupted, a thought occuring to her. "How do you explain squibs then? We know they're magical."

Harry pursed his lips, looking quite irritated, though she felt it was by the topic rather than her interruption. "An anomaly I haven't really figured out yet. They have magic in their bodies but can't consciously use it. Using the Ministry's altogether terrible classification system, squibs are closer to magical creatures than mages or any other life form capable of conscious magic use. They could either be the result of some kind of birth defect or a rare, secondary expression of magic in the human race that causes the magic to be invested into the squibs' bodies rather than their minds. I don't have any evidence to suggest one over the other."

"Does that mean that squibs would make good potion ingredients?" The morbid question slipped out of Tonks' mouth before she could think better of it.

Harry seemed pleased though, if the way he grinned at her was any indication. "They do actually. Pelagius Black, a branch member of the Black family back in the 13th century did an extensive study on the topic and discovered that squib parts can be used to make highly effective healing potions and salves, as welll as equally effective poisons. Obviously, the Blacks kept this to themselves."

"Obviously." Tonks muttered in agreement. That kind of thing was of course extremely illegal. There may not have been a Ministry of Magic in the 13th century and the 'magical community' may have been more of a loose collection of families, but she was pretty sure that using people as potions ingredients would be frowned upon by others, even if it was just to avoid setting some very dangerous precedents.

"Right, now as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted – the thoughts of wizards and witches intrude on the world around us, attempting to change it to suit our perceptions when those perceptions clash with reality. The effect is negligible in most cases...a freshly painted wall obviously isn't going to automatically dry itself just because we expect it to be dry for example. Spells are mental constructs however, and far more vulnerable to the intruding thoughts of others."

"Wouldn't that mean that spells shouldn't work at all on other magicals?"

Harry frowned. "I didn't explain that properly. Think of it like this...an unfinished spell is like molten steel, soft and malleable. But you can't shape a sword any further once the steel is cooled. The analogy isn't perfect of course, some spells, such as the ubiquitous _Accio,_ are of a _soft_ type that tend to fail when it reaches another's aura-space. Only in cases of an extreme power mismatch – and by extreme I mean Dumbledore versus your average first year or something like that – can one wizard outright ignore the spells of another."

"How did you ignore my first stunner then? Because I'm pretty sure we aren't _that_ far apart power-wise."

"I didn't ignore it, I was ready for it. A witch or wizard's aura is in a neutral state most of the time and provides only minimal protection against incoming spells. The aura of someone in combat is high-strung and agitated, but still doesn't offer much protection. I've learned to manipulate my aura and prepared myself to resist your stunner. If we go back to the sword analogy from earlier, your first spell was like a blade of glass, its power easily shattered. The second one was steel and took everything I had to stay conscious."

"Seriously?"

That was fucking bullshit.

"Don't give me that look, it's not as if it's combat useful since shielding spells are both far more versatile, efficient and easier to use. Mostly it's just a good mental exercise and a trick to look cool."

"It's still bullshit." Tonks grumbled.

"You want to learn it?"

"Fuck yes I want to learn it."

"Then get to meditating."

This time Tonks did groan. She had done so much meditating since she started learning from Harry that there was a real danger of converting to Buddhism by accident. Still, she was persistent if nothing else and didn't complain more than that.

If nothing else, it was improving her Occlumency.

Harry moved further away and started talking as soon as she was settled in.

"Remember what we talked about just now and what you've learned before this. Your soul is anchored to your body, but not truly part of it. Your mind is a function of your brain, but not restricted to it. Your magic exists in the intersection of mind, body and soul, that is the crux of our existence and the seat of our power. As a Metamorphmagus, you more than anyone are not shackled by the limitations of your flesh. Shut out physical input and turn your focus inward. Blind your eyes, deafen your ears and numb your nerves, they are only distractions and won't help you here. Magic can't be heard, can't be seen, touched, tasted or smelled, it can only be _known_."

"You want me to turn myself into a vegetable?" Tonks asked incredulously.

"More like a brain in a jar." He said with an infuriating smirk.

"I'm not really comfortable with that."

"That which takes us far is never comfortable."

"And turning myself into a pickled brain is going to take me far, is it?"

"Hopefully."

"Fine, but if I'm doing that, then I'm lying down." Tonks huffed.

"Sure."

XXXXX

Harry watched the still body of his ex-girlfriend where it was lying on a comfortable couch. Fleur and Luna had long since left.

Dora was doing well, had been doing well for some time. Getting her to stop taking magic for granted had taken a while, but he had managed it and her presence had been steadily gaining strength since then.

It was an odd thing, what magic did to people, how it moved them away from conventional humanity. Most wizards and witches were weak, thinking nothing of their gifts and would not be overly inconvenienced by the loss of them if they knew how to live like normal people.

The powerful were different. It was subtle, but it could be seen if you knew what to look for.

Like he had told Dora. The thoughts of magi are not confined to their skulls and pressed against the world around them. Their auras were constantly seeking to change their immediate area of influence.

Harry had already noted that he could now cause electronics to fail by flaring his aura, which he hadn't been able to do before. The magic versus electricity issue had interested him since he'd first heard of it, but the British had predictably not put much effort into finding out the specifics. Harry theorised that it happened because electronics relied on a very precise application of the laws of physics to work and since he didn't know the minute details of how they worked, his aura ruined them if he flared it. Hogwarts and other magic heavy areas were a bit harder figure out, but he figured that the thick magic concentrations warped the laws of phsysics as well. It was the best explanation he had.

But that was not the most interesting side-effect. No, that distinction belonged to their interaction with other magicals. As he had told Dora months ago, the ordinary, non-magical part of humanity was self-contained and deaf to magic. Even the weakest wizard had enough magical awareness to see spells, but they did not.

But this obliviousness to magic had advantages too. For one thing, they were immune to the effects of raw magic.

The souls of the powerful were weighty things, pulling on those weaker than them like a star's gravity pulled on the planets orbiting it. The Joining was a more refined, focused version of this, one that also bypassed the usual barriers that people put up, but every witch or wizard had an aura of influence. The exceptionally powerful had one strong enough to affect others. It had negligible effects on those that didn't already look up to the one doing the influencing, the aforementioned barriers blocking the worst of it, but it was something to be noted.

Voldemort had done it to his followers, Harry saw that in the way that Parkinson's aura had cowered like a beaten dog when he'd pushed his own against it. Macnair and the Carrows had been similar. The Death Eaters were used to being bullied by someone vastly more powerful than them.

For all the effort he expended to project the ultimate good guy image, Dumbledore did it too, that could be seen in the way his followers trusted him blindly. Harry had seen it himself in McGonagall and gotten second-hand accounts of that kind of behavior from Sirius. Dumbledore wanted people to fall in line with his plans, and the suckers that believed him to be the greatest thing since sliced bread got pulled in even deeper by the old man's aura.

Harry wondered sometimes if they did it on purpose like him as well as passively. Probably both, they were certainly powerful enough that they couldn't fail to be capable of it. He also wondered if this was the root cause of Dumbledore's attempts to present himself as a mentor. Had he wanted Harry to be pulled into his orbit as it were? Or did he simply not think anyone but him was wise enough to have that kind of power? Did he trust even himself with it? Was that the reason why he was so limp-wristed? Or was the truth more sinister, with the Headmaster using Hogwarts to influence every magical child that passed through its halls?

Harry figured he'd probably never know, not with the way Dumbledore hoarded knowledge. Not that he had much room to talk on that score. He was just glad that his grandparents' portraits had instilled a deep distrust of the old man in him. That would have done the trick to keep him from being drawn in while he was still weak.

Dora would soon be able to sense magic. It was the first step in learning how to use it without the crutch of a wand and she was nearly there. It had been a struggle teaching her how to do this without employing the Joining as a tool the way he'd done with Luna and Fleur, but he had finally come upon the idea of using her Metamorph ability to induce physical sensory deprivation and leave her with nothing but her spiritual senses. It might have taken months more or even years without that ability and decades without his teaching.

Was it any wonder that the wizards and witches of old had been grey before they achieved any appreciable power?

Harry became more aware of just how badly he had cheated on this score every day. Bjomolf had spoken the truth, he _should_ be dead or worse. He had gone over his well hidden notes on the rune carving rituals with a more experienced and knowledgeable eye since that meeting and knew that the vampire had been right. He _should_ be dead. Or worse.

The Norse set of runes wasn't a problem. Sometimes inconvenient with the way it messed with his hormone production, but nothing unmanageable once he got used to it. Well worth it to speed his maturation and ensure that his body grew tall and strong. A small inconvenience for a small gain.

The Kanji set was also not a problem. Sometimes inconvenient with the way it flushed even beneficial 'poisons' and foreign magic from his body, but nothing to really complain about. Well worth it to keep him at peak efficiency at all times. Also a small inconvenience for a small gain.

The two Avariel sets though...either one should have killed him. One should have hollowed him out until he was only an empty husk and the other should have burned him from the inside out. Only the most unimaginably absurd luck of circumstance and timing had conspired to keep him alive and mostly whole.

Only luck had kept the true nature of _Arhain_ dormant until he inadvertently sacrificed Pettigrew to the Void and awoke it.

Only luck had kept the hungry Dark focused on the piece of Voldemort's less firmly anchored soul instead of his own.

Only luck saw to it that he had already finished most of his preparation for the next ritual and that it only required minor alteration. More luck that he'd managed to get it right in the little time he'd had to think.

Only luck that his final ritual had allowed him to perceive the soul shard and force it out.

Only luck that it had left enough of a metaphorical hole in his soul that the Sun's burning power had an exit and didn't fry him and more luck that that very same power prevented the Void from consuming the rest of him.

Harry wouldn't soon forget the cold sweat he'd broken into when he'd realised just how thin the razor's edge had been. He would dearly love to know the specifics of the vampire and succubi magics that allowed them to survive making the Dark and Light part of their being, because his method had been nothing short of suicidal.

Valuable, oh so valuable. There were not enough riches or women in the world to entice him into giving up what those runes had given him, but it had still been monumentally stupid to carve them in the first place. Harry doubted there had been a more reckless action done in the entire history of recklessness. A survived reckless action at least, as the graveyard of reckless idiots less lucky than him would probably stretch from horizon to horizon.

Harry wiped a hand down his face to snap himself out of his wool-gathering and focused back on his ex-girlfriend.

Her aura had a more watchful feel to it, so he figured that she had achieved what he had hoped without her physical senses getting in the way. He just had to make sure.

He conjured a pebble, smiling widely when he felt her aura ripple. Conjuration was magically 'loud' and she had clearly sensed it.

Next, he gripped the pebble with a levitation spell and floated it over to her, smile widening at the continued reactions he was sensing from her.

He moved the pebble around for a while and then positioned it above her head, slowly lowering it towards her nose, the wide smile turning into an outright grin when she instinctively snatched it from the air with her hand, coming out of the trance with a start.

"Wha...?" She said, blinking around with confused eyes.

Harry left her to it for a minute. It would take some time for her to get used to physical input again.

"Grasshopper, you have snatched the pebble from my hand." He quipped once she looked to have her wits about her again.

She looked at the conjured pebble in her hand and smiled widely. "I did, didn't I? I felt it moving, it was like..."

Words failed her, but Harry understood. Magic sensing was not an exact science and Dora did not have the advantage of the twin _Sol_ runes that Harry had paid for with blood, pain and very nearly his life. Trying to describe it with words would be like trying to describe color to the blind or the movement of a shadow in the dark.

"Congratulations, you've taken a significant step forward today." He said with a proud smile.

"Damn straight!" She cheered, all but bouncing off the couch.

Harry was almost sorry about what he was going to say next. Almost. "Now you get to spend even more time a day meditating."

Dora groaned, a long, loud and severely exaggerated sound of despair.

"Can't we just skip ahead to the fireballs and lightning?" She whined.

"I tried that with Luna and it didn't work." Harry replied, amused. "Nope, I'm afraid it's going to be meditation for you to refine this new ability and then more meditation until you learn how to sense magic without shutting out your physical senses. Then comes learning how to project your magic onto the mundane world rather than just sensing foreign magic, which will naturally involve quite a bit of meditation as well. After that we _might_ be able to progress towards learning spellweaving, from which will follow the fireballs and lightning."

"Is that going to involve meditation too?" She asked snippily.

"No." Harry smirked. "That's going to involve the rough equivalent of doing complex math in your head while balancing on a tightrope."

Dora stared at him for a moment and then sighed with a slump. "No wonder Sirius gave up on learning this."

"Sirius is also – despite what his energetic personality might lead you to think – a bit lazy. But you aren't like that, are you?"

She feigned offense at his implication. "Bring it on! A Hufflepuff never gives up!"

"That's good to hear, I'd hate to think that all this meditating has been for nothing." He joked.

"I suppose you want me to keep at it while you're gone?" She asked wryly.

"You could come with us." Harry offered. Not only would everyone be happy to have her along, but it would also allow him to keep teaching her. Additionally, it would get her some more life experience, which was an important factor in the power of one's magic. There was only so much that a person could grow while working a regular job, even one as theoretically exciting as being an Auror.

"Scrimgeour has barely gotten out of the snit he was in over the time off I took during the summer and you want me to take even _more_ time off?" She asked, smiling in bemusement.

"Feh, who cares about Scrimgeour?" Harry waved off. "Tell him it's a training trip or something if you must."

"I'm tempted, but I have to decline." She replied with a teasing note in her voice. "I actually like my job, despite all the little annoyances that come with it."

"But who will help me squander my inheritance?" He lamented jokingly, getting a laugh out of her.

"Fleur is more than up to the task, I'm sure. The French are good at spending money, aren't they?" She joked back.

"I don't know if that's a legitimate French stereotype or not, so I couldn't say." Harry mused and decided to change the subject. "If you're not coming with us, then you can at least stay for dinner to celebrate your achievement."

"Well if you're gonna twist my arm like that..."

XXXXX

After dinner was finished, Harry asked Luna, Fleur, Tonks and Sirius to come with him, saying that he had something for them.

"Right, as you know, we're leaving in a few days." Harry began once they reached the empty room he had led them to. "With that in mind, I got you all some gifts."

The gift recipients were a bit bemused by this, being well aware that Harry was the type that would forget it was Christmas if not for all the hype around the season.

They were even more bemused when the gifts turned out to be a pair of daggers for each, one long and one short. The long one looked to be about twelve inches long, while the short one was no more than six. Both had only minimal crossguards and no ornamentation except for a handsome oval hilt made of wood. The blade was plain double edged steel.

"The larger one is meant to sit on your waist while the smaller goes into a boot, but you can switch it up if you want since the sheaths are enchanted to be larger on the inside anyway. There is also an attention redirecting enchantment on the sheaths that will only be active when the blades are in them." Harry explained.

"You know, Harry, girls usually prefer jewelry over knives." Sirius opined.

"Screw that, knives are way better than jewelry." Tonks said happily, inspecting her new daggers.

Harry gave his godfather a smug look.

"Tonks doesn't count, she isn't normal." Sirius defended, ignoring the childish raspberry his shapeshifting cousin blew him in response. "How about you Fleur, wouldn't you rather have had a nice pair of diamond earrings?"

" _Non,_ diamonds wash out my complexion."

"And you can't stab anyone with diamonds." Luna added and then paused. "Not easily at least."

"And on that note, Harry, are you thinking that we'll need to stab someone?" Sirius asked pointedly.

"You never know. We're going to a foreign country and I don't want us taking any chances."

"It's America, not the bloody jungle." Sirius said, exasperated.

"And America is full of _people_ , way more dangerous than a jungle. Either way, I don't want any of us being unarmed."

"We have our wands and you don't even need that." Sirius argued, watching Luna mime stabbing with some nervousness.

"You can't stab someone with a wand." Harry said, channeling Luna with a perfectly straight face. "Besides, if they got close enough for stabbing then your wand will be useless anyway and vice versa."

"Moody would love you." Tonks snorted with an eyeroll. "I'll just assume you got them for me too because of my job?"

"Exactly." Harry confirmed, pleased that she understood. "I enchanted the daggers as well. They have all the usual stuff on them; increased durability and sharpness, a nasty shock if anyone but the owner tries to use them and a little spell that will turn the blade towards the direction you throw it if you ever do that...just put a drop of your blood on the pommel to key them to yourself."

"Harry, I know that Magical Britain has no laws against carrying bladed weaponry, but have you checked if the Americans do?" Tonks asked.

Harry frowned. "No, I didn't. Even if they do, I'm not going to listen to any demands to disarm made by the Americans of all people. If all goes well they'll never know about these anyway."

"Word." Sirius said, making everyone stare at him. "What?"

"Sirius, why are you using weird American slang?" Harry asked patiently.

"You aren't the only one that's been preparing for this trip. I've been brushing up on my American lingo."

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before looking back at his godfather. "I'd suggest you forget about everything you 'brushed up on' or you might actually end up needing those daggers."


	30. Chapter 30

**You will notice that I take some of Rowling's recently introduced canon for America as a basis while ignoring the rest of it. There are a couple of reasons for this. The first is that I find her narrative of her world's history to be unbearably optimistic and naive. The second is that I've already made significant changes in earlier chapters and intend to run with it rather than backtrack.**

 **This may very well have the knock on effect that I may have to replace characters if any of the ones mentioned by Rowling are unsuitable for my purposes.**

 **That's pretty much all for now, so onward with the chapter.**

 **Also, Joe Lawyer has been as big a help with this chapter as always, so big kudos to him xD.**

XXXXX

 _New York, Woolworth Building._

The long-distance Portkey was as unpleasant as ever, but they were slightly better prepared for it this time.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked at the man that had spoken, presuming him to be some kind of official that greeted foreign visitors. Medium height, middle-aged. dark-haired, dark-eyed, good suit, slight olive skin tone...he was pretty bland actually.

"That's me." He said, shaking the man's offered hand and taking it upon himself to introduce the rest of his party. "Sirius Black, Luna Lovegood, Fleur Delacour."

To the man's credit, he only stared at Fleur for a little bit before shaking off the effects of her Allure. "A pleasure, I'm Juan Carlos Ramirez."

"Wait, aren't you the Vice President of Magical Congresss?" Harry asked in surprise, recognising the name.

"I am." Ramirez confirmed and made a beckoning gesture with his arm. "If you'll please follow me?"

Harry exchanged a suspicious glance with Sirius as they started walking. The second highest official in a nation would not normally greet a handful of foreigneirs looking to spend a few months in their country, which was something that Harry had made sure to be clear was all they were.

The Americans were playing games. He'd only just got here and they were already playing games.

"So, Juan, may I call you Juan?" The veela asked, smiling with all the grace and charm that came naturally to her kind.

"I-yes, of course!" Ramirez babbled, flushing like a school boy for a moment before he regained control of himself.

"Vice President you say? Tell me more." She purred, leaning a bit further towards the politician.

Harry suppressed a smile. Fleur was playing games too.

Ramirez ate it up like a starving man presented with a feast, his previous composure nowhere to be seen.

"She's really good at this, isn't she?" Luna whispered to him.

"Very." Harry whispered back, amused and more than a bit thoughtful.

Fleur was a surprisingly savvy interrogator, deftly avoding questions that would remind Ramirez that he was here because of Harry and not her and playing the role of a woman impressed with a powerful politician to perfection. Ramirez probably didn't even remember that the rest of them existed if his eagerness to answer Fleur's questions was any clue.

They didn't really learn much from this game of Fleur's...mostly just a bunch of trivia about the admittedly impressive magic that hid the seat of the magical government within what was otherwise a mundane building and some tidbits about what duties the Vice President had.

What really had him thinking was Fleur's technique. He'd never seen her pull information out of someone and it was giving him ideas.

Torture and threats thereof had worked on the Death Eaters so far, but it had downsides. For one thing, if he didn't know to ask they wouldn't volunteer anything. Maybe they could try a good cop, bad cop routine?

The walk continued with Ramirez being thoroughly distracted by Fleur while Harry, Luna and Sirius walked behind them and were content to stay quiet and watch her work. They did eventually reach their destination though, an overly fancy door with a plaque denoting that it led to the President's office, and Ramirez seemed to recall that he had a job to do, spinning around to face Harry with a flushed face and slightly wild eyes.

"Err, my apologies, Mr. Potter. I meant to tell you that the President wanted to speak to you before you left the building."

"Quite alright, I know how distracting Fleur can be." Harry replied, struggling to hold down a grin when the veela in question winked at him, the cheeky bird.

"Err, yes." Ramirez said, obviously wrongfooted. "I would be happy to entertain the rest of your party in my office while you meet with him."

 _I bet you'd like to 'entertain' Fleur in particular._ Harry thought, amused. He wasn't jealous, not really. Perhaps he would be if there was any chance of Ramirez being successul, but he knew that Fleur wasn't really interested in bedding this political creature. She just liked to use her gifts to play with other people sometimes because they didn't work on him.

He still made sure to give her a deep kiss that left her looking predatory and eager after he thanked Ramirez for his hospitality, carefully not looking at the crestfallen expression that had briefly crossed his face. Perhaps it was petty of him to take so much satisfaction in poking a hole in the man's delusions, but he did. As if a meaningless political title would ever smell more tempting than the magic of a powerful wizard to a veela, even disregarding Fleur's emotional attachment to him.

The others left and Harry stepped through the door, discovering with no real surprise that it actually led to the office of the President's personal assistant rather than the man himself.

"Mr. Potter?" The pleasant looking woman queried with a smile. She was quite pretty in a competent, secretary-ish sort of way.

Harry noticed that nobody was calling him a lord around here and wondered if that was a deliberate slight, another political game or if they just didn't acknowledge any such titles on this side of the Atlantic. Didn't really matter.

"That's me." He said, returning her smile. "I hear the President wants to talk to me?"

"Yes, in just a few minutes. Feel free to take a seat in the meanwhile."

The smile slipped from Harry's face at her words.

He could understand why the President of the North American mages would want to talk to him, it was in the nature of politicians to get nervous when dangerous things or people entered their area of influence. It might be a bit odd for the President to be doing this himself, as such a thing would never happen with a non-magical politician occupying such a high office, but there were few enough wizards and witches even in the Americas that the President had a lot less to do compared to his mundane counterpart. Plus, he had become a person worth noting since demonstrating his skill with wandless magic. So no, it was not any kind of surprise that they'd take the opportunity to get the measure of him.

But playing this stupid game with making him wait to show who had the power? No, screw that noise.

"If he's too busy to meet with me right away then it must not be that important." Harry said blandly, stepping towards the exit. "Tell him to come meet me at our inn if he still wants to talk to me."

She looked quite put out by that and opened her mouth to reply, only to get cut off by a chime coming from her desk.

"The President will see you now." She said stiffly.

Somebody clearly didn't deal with people that didn't want to play by their rules. Tough.

As Harry stepped into the office of the President, his first impression of the man behind the desk was that he must put a lot of effort into looking distinguished.

He was a man edging towards his older years while still looking 'hale and hearty' as the old fashioned description went. He had short black hair streaked with silver on the sides with a matching salt and pepper beard, both impeccably groomed. His deep blue eyes and pale skin matched it well. Broad shoulders and a good suit completed the image of a distinguished older gentleman.

Really, it was like looking at a textbook definition of 'distinguished'.

He was clearly trying too hard. Or maybe Harry had been made overly cynical after having to put up with Fudge. It could be either one...or both.

"Harry Potter." The man said extending his hand. "I am Gabriel Becker, President of the Magical Congress of North America. Welcome to our humble nation."

"Thanks." Harry replied dryly as he shook the offered hand and took the offered seat, being mildly rude on purpose. Privately, he also thought that North America was hardly humble. Putting aside it's mundane counterpart of dubious repute, the magical side of North America boasted a population of over twenty thousand wizards and witches in comparison to Britain's three thousand. "What did you want to talk to this humble visitor to your country about?"

Becker did no more than raise an eyebrow at his not-entirely-polite tone. Maybe he realised he had it coming for trying to pull the make-him-wait stunt earlier or he just wasn't willing to make an issue of it. "I just wanted to take this opportunity to meet you. It isn't often that a wizard like you comes around."

"Uh huh, and I suppose the guy under the invisibility cloak over there is for decoration?" Harry said, jerking his head towards a seemingly empty corner.

That had Becker looking startled and the unseen presence seemed to tense.

"I see that your reputation is well deserved." Becker chuckled ruefully after a few moments. "My invisible friend here is a bodyguard. I didn't think he was necessary, but my security detail insists."

It was a very convenient explanation, but it rang false to Harry's ears. More likely, Becker was shifting blame onto this nebulous 'security detail' to make himself look more reasonable. The standard political shit shoveling, but whatever.

"Right." He drawled dismissively. "Can we just skip all this dancing around and get to the point? I doubt you invite every foreign visitor for a chat and I didn't come here to play stupid political games, I get enough of that back in Britain."

Becker leaned back thoughtfully before speaking. "You're right of course, foreigneirs don't usually receive this much scrutiny, but you're not just anyone. For one thing, my intelligence service people have been pulling their hair out trying to think of ways to keep track of you since you don't need a wand."

Harry didn't let his expression sour, but he felt it all the same. Americans and their 'wand permit' bullshit. North America might have many things that it could boast about in comparison to it's archaic parent nation, but this was not one of them in his opinion. Sure, it probably made it harder to commit crime with magic. Sure, it was probably a good idea to keep a close eye on what people were doing with the power to alter reality. Sure, it had probably cut down on the amount of trouble some upstart with delusions of grandeour might cause. All of that and more were good arguments for requiring wand permits from an objective viewpoint, Harry would easily concede.

But it still ground on his nerves to have magic be so _regulated_.

"I can imagine." He said neutrally.

One of the reasons why it had taken so long for this trip to even get underway was the small mountain of paperwork that had been required to secure these bullshit wand permits for all four of them. He had initially expected that Ramirez was there to guide them to the wand registration office and had no doubt that they would be taken to have there as soon as he left this office, even if it was a mostly pointless gesture.

It was almost funny how a country known internationally for its gun happy rednecks and loose gun laws was so strict about wand control. Almost.

"So you can see the problem that your presence causes us? Unlike Britain, we believe in careful monitoring of magic to ensure it is used responsibly and we have no real way of monitoring you short of assigning you a minder."

"You want to have a spy follow me around everywhere I go?" Harry demanded. "Are you that paranoid?"

Becker's expression tightened, but he replied calmly enough. "They would stay out of your way as much as possible and would not infringe on your privacy. Think of it as more of a mix between being assigned a bodyguard and a diplomat to repair our poor relations with Britain. As you are the head of two of Britain's prominent noble families and a member of the Wizengamot, a case could be made for the arrangement being necessary."

"If this is your attempt to repair relations, then it's failing." Harry said snippily.

Becker had the nerve to smile slightly at that. "I understand your discontent. You are used to the way things are done in Britain, where wizards and witches are allowed to do as they please with their magic as long as it remains within the bounds of the law. Here, we understand that magic is not a toy and should not be treated as such."

That was a sentiment that Harry would normally agree with, if only it wasn't being used as an argument to justify an obsessive amount of oversight.

"And because you can't easily track wandless magic, you want to have someone do it manually. Are they going to follow me into the bathroom so they can tell you all about the neat little spell I use to dry my cock off after I take a piss?" He asked sarcastically, now being deliberately crass and rude.

" _Mr._ Potter," Becker said sternly, putting extra emphasis on the form of address. "I've already told you that your privacy will not be infringed upon. We do not make a habit of noting every minor spell cast by every one of our citizens, though they are catalogued should we need to. Obviously, this isn't possible in your case, but the minder will be there to make sure you do not use any illegal spells, the list of which I assume you have familiarised yourself with before coming here. This arrangement is _not_ negotiable. If you wish to stay in North America, then you will accept it. If not, then we can arrange a Portkey back to Britain for you and your party."

So that was how it was going to be, huh? Harry forced down his anger at being presented with the ultimatum and was tempted to take the Portkey option. Of course, he'd just come back a little later, this time without informing the paranoid magical government of his visit.

But that would turn what was supposed to be a relaxing trip into a tense criminal activity.

Harry stood up without a word and stared down at the still sitting politician, ignoring the sense of tension from the invisible presence in the room. "Fine, I'll be expecting him or her soon."

As a point of emphasis, he flared out his magic, suffocating the room with his suppressed anger.

Becker paled and shrank in slightly on himself, his composure ruined by the sure knowledge that he'd just annoyed a wizard far more powerful than him.

"G-good." He said, his voice cracking slightly.

That at least made Harry feel a little better. These 'wizards' hiding behind politics and legislation always pissed him off, so it was good to remind them every so often what real power was. Becker might have forced him to accept having a snitch around since Harry didn't want to start a war over it and didn't want to leave the country without doing what he'd come to do, but he wanted it to be known that the Americans had not left a good impression on him.

XXXXX

Sirius Black was enjoying his visit to North America so far. He didn't really know why their President wanted to talk to Harry, but he did know that watching the Vice President get wrapped around Fleur's little finger was hilarious. Especially because he was quite sure that Ramirez didn't stand a snowball's chance in Hell of getting anything but disappointment from it.

Fleur was mean sometimes. No wonder she and Harry got along so well.

The amusing spectacle was cut short when Harry showed up, looking visibly irritated. Not the 'I want to kill someone' sort of irritated, Harry was good at internalising that. No, this looked more of a 'do you have to be so inexcusably stupid?' type of irritated. Fleur and Luna clearly saw it too, as they sat up and went to his side immediately, leaving Ramirez blinking in confusion at suddenly being deprived of the beautiful veela's attention.

It was a tense group that went to have their wands registered, dominated by Harry's surly mood. That was pretty odd in and of itself, as Harry was usually very good at controlling his emotions. A bit _too_ good if Sirius was being honest. It had been so much easier to get a read on him before he put up enough walls to impress even Snape.

Fleur tried to get Harry to open up about what had him so bent out of shape, but he wouldn't talk about it until they got to their inn.

So there there they went, finding the place tucked into a space that was realistically too narrow to hold a small house, much less an inn. It looked horrendously out of place among the towering skyscrapers of muggle New York, even more than the Leaky Cauldron did in muggle London, but it was noticeably younger and more modern.

Unfortunately for his godson's temper and the nervous girl manning the front desk, they ran into a little cultural issue while settling their accomodations.

"Two beds? Are you sure?" The receptionist, who really couldn't be more than twenty, queried, clearly intimidated by Harry's stony stare. "I mean...there's four of you..."

Sirius had always been crap at the Mind Arts, but he didn't need Legilimency to interpret the girl's glances. She was trying to figure out who would be sleeping with who and coming up with little that made any sense to her, what with Fleur and Luna hanging onto Harry.

Sirius also recalled that most of the world did not share Magical Britain's rather relaxed views on the age of consent and Luna was blatantly underage.

Harry had no more trouble than him in figuring out what the problem was. And he was also a Legilimancer.

"That's none of your concern." He almost growled, making the girl flinch and hand over the keys in a hurry.

Sirius decided to talk to the receptionist a little more. Not only to apologise for his godson's attitude and reassure her that there was no need to report a possible case of statutory rape(a term that Lily had forced all the Marauders to learn in their sixth year), but also because she was pretty damn cute.

"You'll have to excuse him, he's usually a lot nicer but he's had a bad day." He said, pouring on the ol' Sirius Black charm that made her smile and blush prettily. _Still got it._

"it's alright, a lot of people are like that." She mumbled.

"Well that's no way to treat a young lady. Why don't you let me make it up to you by taking you out tomorrow?" Sirius suggested.

It took a few minutes, but he managed to both smooth over whatever problem Harry's ill temper might have caused and get a date with a pretty girl out of it. Sometimes, Sirius impressed even himself.

XXXXX

When Sirius made it to the room that Harry had chosen for himself and his girls it was to find the aforementioned godson being pampered by the aforementioned girls, the lucky bastard.

"So, what was that about?" He prompted.

Harry let out an irritated sigh and explained what had gone on in the President's office.

"Well, I guess that's what you get for barbecuing Malfoy in broad daylight." Sirius said philosophically after the initial incredulity passed.

"I would have understood if they were worried about that." Harry grumbled back. "But no, it's the fact that they can't track the use of my magic that bothers them. 'Land of the free' my arse."

"I think it's only the muggles that say that ." Sirius felt the need to point out.

"Whatever."

"Are we going back to Britain then?" Luna asked.

"No, we're staying for now, provided our chaperone does as he or she is supposed to and stays out of our way. It's not like I was planning to cast Fiendfyre in the middle of New York, however pleasant that daydream is at the moment."

"When is this chaperone due to arrive?" Fleur asked.

"Tomorrow morning. Why?"

"Good, that gives us time to channel your anger into something productive, like breaking in this bed."

Sirius' finely honed bro instincts told him that it was time to vacate the premises. Maybe he'd go back to chatting up the receptionist girl and see if he could get some help breaking in his own bed later.

XXXXX

It was a much more mellow Harry that went to answer the door when it was knocked upon the next day. He was still annoyed by the idea of having someone shadowing him all the time to assuage the Americans' paranoia, but he was no longer thinking of all the ways he could make the escort's life miserable. That could still be revisited if they proved to be irritating though.

As soon as he opened the door, he had an immediate flashback to Kingsley Shacklebolt. The man outside was as black and as bald as the British Auror, though he was not nearly as big and looked to be a few decades older as well. Actually, on second thought, the only similarities he had with Shacklebolt was the skin color and the lack of hair, but there were only so many ways to describe a bald black man and Shacklebolt was the only one of those Harry had seen so far, so the association was sort of understandable.

"Good morning, Lord Potter." Said bald black man greeted, unaware of the minor philosophical conundrum that had passed through Harry's mind upon seeing him.

"Morning..." Harry said promptingly. He noted that the noble title was once again in use, which meant that the lack of it had definitely been meant as an insult yesterday. Cute.

"Johnson, Frank Johnson." The man provided.

"Right, I guess you'd better come in." Harry sighed, still not enthused by this.

"Thank you." Johnson nodded and then looked around. "Do we have a moment to speak privately?"

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but answered all the same. "We do..." Luna was still lazing about in bed due to the time zone difference and Fleur was taking a shower. Sirius had mentioned something about a girl yesterday.

"First, let me just assure you that you'll barely even know I'm around."

"I appreciate it." Harry lied. It was hard to appreciate and resent something at the same time.

"Second, I have an invitation to extend to you."

"From who?" Harry asked suspiciously. Which clever idiot thought they could get something out of him this time?

"From a colleague of an old Viking you might know."

 _Bjomolf._ And a colleague of his could only be another vampire. By Tzeentch's tentacled cloaca, couldn't anything ever be simple?

"And why would this 'colleague' want to meet me?" He asked with a weary sigh.

"No idea." Johnson shrugged. "All I know is that she found out you were coming to America, predicted Becker's reaction and asked me to get into position to be assigned to you."

Which of course meant that Johnson was going to be reporting to this mysterious female vampire first and the President second.

Harry supposed that he _could_ just ignore this and go about his business...but the last time he'd met a vampire he'd learned such interesting things. His curiousity was going to get him into serious trouble one day, he just knew it. More than it had already that was.

"When?"

"That's up to you really, I've been told that you'd know where to go?"

Well at least he wasn't expected to just show up on command. If that had been the case, he would have refused to go on sheer principle.

"Yes." He had only skimmed through the Black Book that Bjomolf had given him, but he did recall briefly glancing over an entry for New York. He'd have to check it more closely later, but there was another problem... "Can I bring guests?" Luna and Fleur knew the truth about his meeting with Bjomolf and would definitely insist on going with him to this one.

Johnson scratched at his chin thoughtfully. "As long as they're already in the know, I don't see why not, but I'll ask and get back to you just to be sure."

XXXXX

 _A week later._

Harry frowned to himself as he pored over the collection of books he'd aquired over the past week.

Some of them were about North America's magical history, which was notably different than the version he'd read back in Britain, mainly on points that made one side look bad and the other good. That had been expected.

What hadn't been expected was the sheer level of control and oversight that the magical government exerted over its citizens here. It was borderline fascist. Practically every spell or bit of magic that didn't concern personal hygiene or some domestic activity required some type of permit or form to be filed with the relevant governmental department. A wizard could get fined or even jailed for using a fucking stunner.

He'd wondered in the past if the different magical governments around the world had different secret magics that they kept to themselves. It was looking like North America specialised in surveillance. He certainly didn't think that the British Ministry of Magic was capable of exerting this kind of oversight.

Curiously, there were no Dark Lords on record. Plenty of criminals, but nobody that had ever mounted an outright attempt to topple the government. Harry wondered how much truth there was in that.

The sound of the bathroom door opening brought him out of his study and he watched, bemused, as Luna flounced out naked as the day she was born, with Fleur following right afterwards, equally naked.

"I thought you said you were done with the books for today?" Fleur asked in exasperation upon seeing what he was doing.

"What did you expect? You were in there for hours." Harry shrugged.

"Don't be such a man, 'Arry. It wasn't that long." Fleur waved off.

Unless veela had some kind of time dilation magic that he didn't know about, then Harry was going to have to disagree with that. Still, he knew better than to argue with a woman about the time she spent in the bathroom. Fortunately, he had expected this delay and made sure to leave plenty of breathing room in their plans.

"Harry, Harry, how do I look?" Luna asked excitedly, jumping in plance and sending her perky little breasts bouncing.

"Very nice." Harry said, smiling at his other, currently age-potioned, girlfriend. Luna looked great as a twenty-year-old. Still petite, but beautiful all the same.

They were meeting with New York's vampire mistress tonight, who the Black Book identified as being named Ophelia. Unfortunately, according to Johnson and his own investigation, the address given was a nightclub, which meant that he could hardly take a fifteen-year-old looking Luna with him if he didn't want to draw the wrong sort of attention, hence the Aging Potion.

"Very nice indeed." Fleur murmured, running her fingers up the younger blonde's side and making her giggle as she hit a ticklish spot. "Now lets get you dressed."

Harry put the books aside and watched the show as his girlfriends got dressed. The clothes themselves weren't anything overly sexy, just slightly higher quality casual wear really, as he had insisted on comfort and mobility rather than appearance in case things went pear shaped.

"Alright, we're ready to go." Fleur declared, checking herself out in a full length mirror.

"You both have your knives?" Harry asked just to be sure.

"Yes, in our boots." She confirmed, Luna nodding along as well.

"Alright then, let's go talk to Johnson then." Harry sighed. He was slightly less resentful of the American's presence now that he knew who his primary loyalties were to, but the overall situation still grated on him.

Really, it was what he represented that bothered Harry so much rather than the man himself. Johnson was actually a pretty good guy. He'd rented one of the other rooms and generally stayed out of their way, making no effort whatsoever to actually keep an eye on them as he was supposed to. Harry had even asked him to point out a place that he could get the books he'd so recently been reading and he had been the one to provide the Aging Potion for Luna, through what were probably extra-legal sources since Aging Potion was a controlled substance in North America.

He'd still have preferred to not have him around though.

As it turned out, Johnson was waiting for them in the hallway that led to the lobby.

Harry simply nodded at the man, but Luna took it upon herself to be a bit more...expressive.

"Hello, Frank." She chirped, treating him like a friend despite barely knowing him.

"Hello, Luna." Johnson said with a fond smile. "You look lovely."

"Thank you!" She beamed. "I hope the potion lasts long enough for us to play with my new boobies when we get back. Fleur says they're almost B-cups now!"

Johnson's smile took on a pained quality, much to Harry and Fleur's amusement. "Yes, well...I hope you enjoy the movie. I'll tell them that you went for a walk afterwards."

Going to see a film had been Fleur's idea, a bit of a date before their meeting with the vampire since it had to be done after sundown anyway.

XXXXX

Going to the cinema was not a new thing for the three of them. It made for a good social outing that didn't require much in the way of planning while still being entertaining. Plus, Luna had been mildly obsessed with animated movies ever since Harry had taken her to see WALL-E in an attempt to cheer her up after her father's death.

"'Arry, why are we watching this children's movie?" Fleur murmured into his ear.

That was indeed what they were doing, watching an animated children's movie. Strange Magic to be precise, a terribly corny love story set in an even more terribly corny fairy tale setting.

"Because Luna really wanted to see it and we're both too weak to say no to her when she gives us that pleading look." Harry replied in the same low tone, glancing to his left at the age-potioned blonde, who was currently happily humming along to one of the songs pervading these types of movies.

Fleur sighed and looked around the darkened auditorium with a speculative eye. The premiere for this one had been well over a month ago, so the place was far from full, but there were still a few parents who had brought their kids to see it as well as the occasional couple.

"Can you set up a few privacy spells?" She asked.

"Of course, but why?" Harry asked.

Fleur answered him by snaking her hand down to his crotch and giving it a good rub.

"Oh, I see."

With the promise of an entirely different sort of fun, Harry was able to quickly make their immediate area utterly disinteresting to any potential watchers. "Done."

Fleur smiled widely and carefully manouvered herself into a kneeling position between his legs, making sure to not make any sudden movements that would draw attention and disrupt the spell's work.

Off on Harry's left side, Luna glanced at the silver-blonde head bobbing over Harry's lap and smiled. She knew that Harry and Fleur were less interested in the film that she was, so it was nice to see that they'd found other ways to enjoy themselves.

XXXXX

As soon as they made it out onto the street, Fleur stretched like an olympic gymnast, making sounds of satisfaction as her stiff body loosened up.

"Sore?" Harry asked, amused and in a very good mood.

"A bit." Fleur admitted, rubbing her jaw.

"You shouldn't have stayed down there for the whole time." Luna chided gently.

"I regret nothing." The veela said haughtily, smirking as a passing child overheard Luna's words and innocently questioned his mother about them. Judging by the woman's scandalised glare, she'd come to the right conclusion and disapproved. Pfft, as if she'd never performed a blowjob herself.

"Come on, you can walk off the soreness on the way." Harry said, stepping in between the two blondes and placing his hands on the small of their backs to get them moving.

XXXXX

That particular cinema had been chosen specifically because it was no more than an hour's walk from the nightclub where New York's vampire mistress could be found.

Once they arrived, Harry stared distastefully at the building

It was a nightclub, as he'd known, but did this Ophelia absolutely _have_ to be such a stereotype? The place exuded an incredibly cliché dark and broody air. It was even called 'The Nest' of all things. Vampire nest, har har, so clever.

Why did it have to be this kind of place?

Dora had tried to get him to go to a nightclub with her a few times back when they'd been together, but he had done like a boulder and refused to move. Fleur had tried it too, with identical results. He could enjoy a date with a beautiful woman as much as the next guy, but mostly to places with less people, booze and loud music.

Of course, once the two women had become friends, they had simply gone together and left him at home, though he doubted the places they visited were anything like this one. If Harry were a jealous man, that would have bothered him intensely. Fortunately he was not and had simply wished them a good time. It helped that he had no concerns of Fleur hooking up with another man. People with no magic were as sexually interesting to a veela as a stone and he was always happy to keep her hunger for magic sated.

And now here he was, about to willingly enter a nightclub. The Universe sure did like these little ironies.

"I didn't think it was this kind of place." Fleur murmured at his side.

"Come on, let's go in." Luna said, tugging on his arm with obvious excitement. She'd been hyped about meeting a vampire ever since he'd told her about Bjomolf.

"That's why we're here I guess." Harry sighed and they made for the door. If it wasn't for Fleur and Luna, he might have just turned around and left.

There was no doorman or lines of people waiting to enter like one might expect of a nightclub, so they were able to enter without issue.

The inside of the club continued the dark, broody theme. The space itself was dominated by a large, circular bar surrounded by a dance floor, with booths lining the walls. The lighting seemed to shift between dark red and dark purple, the decor featured spiderwebs, chains and some more esoteric additions. The music was currently gloomy enough to match and the people frequenting it were an odd bunch, some fairly nondescript, others ranging from mildly goth to looking like they were desperately trying to prove that they were something other than vanilla human. And failing at it.

Only a rare few of those present had an aura of magic and they tended to look the least silly, though there was one young woman with the peculiar aura of a squib that had an egregious amount of buckles in her outfit.

Harry didn't pay any of it more than cursory attention, his interest firmly captured by the barely perceptible magic that seemed to hang over the entire club area like a cloud of smoke. He'd never seen anything like it.

It was very subtle for one, subtle enough that he doubted anything but a very thorough check with detection spells would reveal it. It also didn't have the the rigid nature that most wanded magic had, which was part of what made it so subtle. How interesting. It also made it hard to discern its purpose. In short, he had no idea what this enchantment did and that made him nervous.

Fleur didn't let him just stand there and stare blankly at the air while he examined the fascinating new magic and tugged him towards the bar. He had something new to stare at as soon as he caught sight of one of the bartenders.

That she was a vampire was obvious, and not just because her aura was hungry darkness.

About the only thing about her that _didn't_ stand out was her height, which was neither especially short nor tall. The dark ambient lighting did nothing to hide the marble-like pallor of her skin or the snowy whiteness of her hair, eyebrows and eyelashes. The tight black leather corset she was wearing propped up a sizable pair of breasts and the similarly tight black leather pants finished off the vampire image. Even the grace with which she moved was obviously unnatural if you knew what to look for.

Harry was finally starting to put the picture together here. She clearly had an extreme case of albinism, which would have made subtlety hard. Instead of fighting an uphill battle, she played up her condition as much as possible, letting people assume that she was some sort of vampire wannabe.

She was certainly popular with the crowd, if the group of people, ages ranging from barely legal to thirty, that were clustered around the bar like puppies looking for a scrap of attention was any clue.

Perhaps this hammy, over the top nightclub was slightly more clever than he'd initially thought.

Though the albino vampire's clever use of what would normally be a weakness was interesting, Harry was more curious about the fact that the odd magic he could sense in the air swirled around her like a slow, ponderous whirlpool.

It took the three of them a little work to squeeze past a group of teens, though it got amusingly simple when a couple of the boys caught sight of Fleur and nearly fell over themselves in their haste to make room for her. Heh, even edgy goths weren't immune to a veela's beauty.

The vampire glided over to them in an instant, despite having been nearly on the other side of the bar when they'd arrived.

"Good evening." She greeted with fangs openly displayed, speaking in a high, soft voice that should not have carried over the loud music. Her lips were nearly colorless and her eyes as red as blood. "I am Ophelia."

No lesser vampire to greet them this time? Curious.

"Hi!" Luna chirped, leaning on the counter with her elbows. "I'm Luna."

The blood red eyes flicked over to him and a tense Fleur. "And your friends?"

"Fleur." The veela said shortly. Harry had no doubt that she was feeling mightily uncomfortable being so close to the vampire even though she had wanted to meet one almost as much as Luna. Their respective natures were just so fundamentally different that discomfort was a given.

"Harry." He said.

"Luna, Fleur and Harry." The albino vampire said and Harry felt a small shift in the magic permeating the air. Something had just happened and he couldn't tell what. Shit. "Would you care for a drink?"

"We're fine." Harry said before either of the girls could speak. The strange, pervasive enchantment didn't _feel_ hostile, but he wasn't going to trust any food or drink in this place, paranoid as it might be.

"Hmm. Perhaps a more quiet place then? Please follow me."

The magic in the air reacted again, washing over them gently with a feeling of _trust-safety-acceptance-understanding_. It wasn't the same as the Joining, being a definite spell of some sort as he could now tell it affected the non-magicals as well. Harry himself could recognise the _otherness_ of it and ignore it, but Luna and Fleur didn't look like they were aware of it, their senses not as attuned. That could be trouble.

Harry grabbed both of them around the waist and expanded his aura to cover them, keeping the foreign magic away. Luna and Fleur quickly settled against him and didn't try to leave, though they must have sensed what he was doing.

Ophelia's red eyes briefly gleamed with interest as she started walking. She must have felt it too.

Ah well, as he had told Dora not long ago, 'that which takes us far is never comfortable' and they _had_ come here to meet a vampire, so they followed after the pale predator.

Ophelia navigated the crowded club with ease, the groups of people seeming to make way for her almost as if by instinct. Even more curiously, Harry could tell that whatever strange enchantment lingered in the air was once again involved in making this happen. He would love to research it...as soon as he got his girls away from its area of influence.

Harry also noticed the envious looks on everyone they passed and had the distinct suspicion that it was not because he was holding two beautiful women, but because they had Ophelia's attention. The vampire probably could have asked to feed from any of these people and they would just about cream their undies in excitement. Creepy shit. More so because he wasn't sure if the silly buggers even needed to be bespelled to achieve that effect with the general 'vampires are cool' vibe he was getting from this place.

They quickly made it away from the main area, up two flights of stairs and into what Harry presumed was Ophelia's office. It was a cozy space, and much more subdued in tone in comparison to the main club area it overlooked, though the light was still very dim. Perhaps Ophelia was photosensitive? It would make sense. Harry took a quick glance out the window and noticed that the space below was too large for the building it was in, something that had escaped his attention before. A Space Expansion Charm that played tricks on the eyes and minds of those within the space itself. Clever.

Ophelia turned to face them once they were all inside and spoke in a soft, almost hypnotic voice."I have been expecting you."

The strange magic went to work again, moving outward from the vampire with like a gentle breeze of _trust-safety-comfort-acceptance_.

"Stop that." Harry said tightly, forming his aura into a bulwark against the intruding magic. It was insidious and subtle rather than forceful, so it was easily deflected...if you knew it was there. He had the sense that very few, if any, did.

"I was merely curious." Ophelia said with the same soft, almost hypnotic, tone. Her blood red eyes shimmered in the low light. She must have fed recently.

"What was she doing?" Fleur asked tensely, stepping closer to him.

"There is some kind of spell in effect over the whole building." Harry explained, keeping a wary eye on the vampire. "I'm not sure of its full function, but it seems to influence people to trust her."

"This is a place for those who feel adrift on the tides of life, the despondent, lonely and forlorn. They come to me and I take care of them."

Harry internally scoffed at the cheesy sales pitch, but he had a feeling that a lot of the fools in the club below ate it up like hot cakes. Add the magic to it and they would probably serve up their own parents to her as a snack before offering to suck on her toes or something. If Harry was at all interested in the welfare of people he didn't know, that may have bothered him.

"Well we're none of that, and would appreciate not having magic used on us without our consent."

"Of course, it was discourteus to forget myself so. Please forgive me." Ophelia said, her soft voice brimming with such sincerity as to put the greatest saint to shame. Or the greatest dissembler.

Harry didn't trust this politeness of hers. She was a hundred times more creepy than Bjomolf had been even when he let the mask of humanity slip a little bit.

"You wanted to meet me?" He said instead of directly responding.

"Yes, please make yourselves comfortable." She said, gesturing towards a large couch. "Are you sure I can't offer you something to drink?"

"Yes." He was even less inclined to trust any sort of beverage here than down in the bar. But they did settle into the couch, him in the middle and one of the girls on each side.

"Very well." Ophelia said and sat in a large armchair as if it was a throne, back straight and legs crossed. Something in her manor shifted as well, becoming more authoritative. "I apologise for disrupting your plans, but I couldn't pass up an opportunity to meet the sorcerer for whom Bjomolf saw fit to bend the rules."

"Bend the rules?" Harry repeated with a frown.

"You should have been observed longer before being contacted." The vampire explained. "Secrecy is paramount to our survival and we do not compromise it lightly. Bjomolf risked much in speaking to you so soon. Some would say too much."

"Would you?" Harry asked, wondering if it would come to a fight after all. Unlike his first encounter with a vampire, he was prepared this time. All three of them had bracelets on that were actually Portkeys and could be activated at a moment's notice.

"Bjomolf is the oldest of those who remain and was a friend to my sire. I will trust in his wisdom."

"That's nice to hear." Harry muttered, slightly startled to hear that Bjomolf was the oldest vampire alive. He'd half expected some dusty ancient to be molding away in a coffin somewhere, not that a thousand plus years was anything to sneeze at

"Though I am dismayed that you saw fit to share the secret with your women." Ophelia continued, her voice softly admonishing.

Harry felt Fleur bristling and squeezed her hand before she could snap out a retort. She was still very much unnerved by their host's cold, Dark aura and it was making her agitated and defensive.

"I trust Fleur and Luna with all my secrets." And he did. It had taken him quite a while to share everything, but he had eventually.

"Perhaps you will trust me with your reason for coming to North America then? I may be able to provide you with further assistance than just having my dear Frank giving President Becker edited reports."

Harry understood the implication. _I did something for you, now you do something for me._ There was also the fact that she could have 'dear Frank' edit his reports in such a way as to make things _more_ difficult for him rather than less, though she did not seem to be implying that she _would_.

Annoying as this whole song and dance was, Harry understood why it was happening. He was being tested to see if Bjomolf really had made the right decision in talking to him. Ophelia might have said that she trusted in his wisdom, but that didn't mean she wouldn't test.

While he didn't really want to talk about his plans out of sheer principle, they were nothing special and he didn't want to make needless enemies.

"Nothing too exciting. Read some books, learn some history, see what I can find out about what the local magic was like before the European wizards showed up. Sirius also wants to make a detour to Las Vegas and I want to check out some Aztec ruins."

"Of the magics of the native tribes of North America, you will learn little." Ophelia said. "Their shamans and medicine men passed the knowledge on to their successors orally and much of it was lost during the genocide of their people. The few that remain alive among them guard their secrets zealously and do not trust outsiders."

"So they won't talk to me even if I track one down?" Harry asked, disappointed by her answering nod.

"In truth, they likely do not know much that you would find interesting anyway, not anymore. Their more impressive magics, such as the Skinwalking which allowed one an unlimited number of animal forms and the ability to connect to the land, have been, allegedly, lost."

"Allegedly?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"There have been no credible accounts of anyone using such magics in centuries."

"No _credible_ accounts?"

"People sometimes tell unsubstantiated stories of having seen men adorned in animal skin – or perhaps animals with human features – running alongside their cars on the open highway before vanishing into the surrounding wilderness."

"And where do these stories typically take place?" Harry asked casually, already planning to employ the local ravens and crows as scouts. If there were Skinwalkers still around, then surely ten thousand searching eyes would find them. they might find other things as well.

"Mostly across the Southwestern United States, specifically Arizona, Utah and New Mexico."

"Thank you for telling me this." Harry said sincerely.

"A warning for you, Sorcerer." Ophelia said softly, but her gaze was intense. "Skinwalkers have an evil reputation, be wary should you succeed in finding one."

"I'll keep it in mind."

"I am glad." The vampire said, smiling at him so affectionately that Harry had to blink in surprise before recalling that he suspected Ophelia of using her pale and frail appearance to manipulate people. "You are an interesting man, Harry Potter. It would be a shame to lose you."

Fleur bristled at his side again and he gave her leg a pat to settle her down, mildly amused at the unexpected show of jealousy. Not a whiff of it when he hopped from bed to bed, but a compliment from a vampire that he wouldn't even consider screwing and she was ready to pick a fight. There was a lot of fear under it though.

"I don't suppose my visit to the Aztec ruins is going to be completely without problems?" He asked sardonically.

"Your presence there will be noted and remarked upon if you are seen of course, but I foresee no trouble." Ophelia replied.

Harry was surprised. "Really? You mean nobody is going to tell me that it's a restricted area or that I need a special permit to be there?"

"Neither the North nor the South American magical governments bother with such things. Why should they when nobody wants to stay there to begin with? You are hardly the first curious scholar with an interest in studying the 'curse' of Mesoamerica."

"Huh, that's the first positive impression of the local magical government I've had so far."

"Yes, I have heard that you chafe under their many regulations."

"I'm honestly surprised there hasn't been a revolt with how controlling they are." Harry grunted with a scowl.

"You should have seen it a century or more ago." Ophelia chuckled, grinning at him toothily. "Only government employees were allowed to carry their wands at all times, others had to secure them at school or their place of work and many were not allowed to own them at all."

Harry could only stare back at the vampire in disbelief.

"Why would they do that?" He asked.

"It is a relic of more unstable times. After the killings of the goblins and purebloods that sought to turn this place into an extension of Europe's magical world, there was much uncertainty. The victors of that struggle were fearful of any attempts by the infuriated old familis in Europe to place them back under their yoke, rightfully so as there were several such attempts made. It took decades for the situation to truly stabilise and many of the mundane world's prejudices leaked through during that time. The strict control over who could use magic kept a semblance of order. President Becker is actually considered very progressive in his views and has done much to soothe the various hatreds that have plagued the politics of the Magical Congress since its founding, but he too cannot fathom a world where wizards and witches are allowed to use their magic with no oversight."

Well that gave a bit of context to the matter. Penny had certainly been given the cliff notes version when she had talked to that American ambassador.

"And there hasn't been any Dark Lords trying to take over?" Harry asked, genuinely interested.

"Not in the way that you would know them in Europe. The Aurors here are considerably more brutal in their responses to any sort of insurgency. Your Voldemort did some recruiting here, but he lost almost as many people as he gained from it."

"I guess there are upsides." Harry admitted grudgingly. He still wouldn't dream of living in any place this regulated and controlled, but he was objective enough to admit that the average witch or wizard was _probably_ better off.

"And there are downsides." Ophelia said with a smile. "As has always been the case, strict regulation creates a thriving black market to get around the regulation."

Harry stared at the faintly smiling vampire suspiciously for a moment. That had sounded kind of like an admission that she had her fingers in said black market, which would figure really. How else had Johnson gotten his hands on that Aging Potion after all. In fact, this sounded almost like an offer to partake in said black market should he need to.

"Why are you so pale?" Luna piped up randomly in the momentary conversational lull, apparently dying to know. "Harry said that the other two vampires he'd seen looked normal."

Ophelia smiled slightly, showing a hint of fang. "I have albinism."

"Albinism?" Luna repeated, frowning in confusion.

"It's a birth defect that causes a loss of pigmentation in the body." Harry explained, glancing back towards the vampire. "Though I didn't think it affected magicals." Wizards and witches were generally impervious to the many diseases and defects that plagued the mundane portion of humanity. The only diseases they suffered were of magical origin themselves.

"It does not." Ophelia replied to the implied question. "It was only after my Turning that the color leeched out of me."

So that meant that her magic had been keeping the condition at bay until she had been Turned...how interesting. Why would it do that? And why would it stop? Well obviously it had stopped because Ophelia had been Turned, but what was the significance of that?

The Sun, it had to be about the Sun. He'd already known that magic protected wizards and witches from getting sunburned, but had not thought much of it, assuming that it was simply an extension of that instinctive self-protection that reduced damage from sudden trauma. But this pointed out to it being something more.

"Does he do this often?" He vaguely registered a soft female voice asking. It sounded amused.

"Sometimes." Another female voice answered. "He should snap out of it soon."

The Sun, a blazing furnace of magic that was, along with its fellow stars, responsible for everything that existed in the Solar System. He'd long suspected that all magic on Earth had its origins from the same source as well, but had nothing more than speculation to go on. The Sun was life, energy and Light. Was it some interaction between Ophelia's magic and that mighty source that prevented her albinism from showing until she had turned away from it and embraced the cold Dark of the Void?

Harry felt an elbow dig into his ribs and his eyes snapped towards Fleur, who was staring at him pointedly. He gave her a reassuring smile and turned back to their host.

"What did you look like before?"

A snowy white eyebrow went up in amused curiousity. "I was blonde and blue-eyed."

Those features were somewhat rare outside of Scandinavia, which he doubted she was from. There was no discernible accent to her English, but her name, if it was the one she had been born with, indicated British origin.

"What about the rest of your family?"

"They had darker hair."

Harry's mind jumped to Narcissa, who had been born blonde and blue-eyed when everyone else in her family had darker coloring. He had assumed it was just a quirk of magic that caused genetics to hiccup like that, but maybe it was something else. Was that how albinism manifested itself in wizards and witches?

"Interesting." He muttered to himself. Yes, it was very interesting. Interesting enough that Harry found himself contemplating ways to convince Narcissa of the benefits of vampirism. He didn't know how she felt about getting old, but if she wanted immortality...

Well, it was something to keep in mind. There was no guarantee that anyone would be willing to Turn her to begin with, but if the circumstances aligned then he would very much like to know what would happen to a vampiric Narcissa.

"You are thinking of your associate, Narcissa Black, formerly Malfoy." Ophelia stated, startling him momentarily before he conceded that these vampires probably knew quite a lot of things and Narcissa was hardly a well kept secret.

"Yes." Harry admitted.

"You suspect that she would become as pale as I if she were Turned."

"Yes."

"She likely would." Ophelia confirmed, smirking at his surprised look. "We have had centuries to puzzle out the truth of such occurences and it is not hard to see the pattern between albino vampires and blondes born into dark haired families."

 _That was kind of anti-climactic_. Harry huffed internally. Still, he'd gotten some interesting information to chew on even if the 'mystery' had been resolved immediately.

"Are you going to try turning Narcissa into a vampire, Harry?" Luna questioned.

"That's not my decision to make." Harry replied, which he knew wasn't really the answer to Luna's question.

Ophelia stood up then, causing Fleur and Harry to also shoot to their feet, dragging Luna with them.

Ophelia pretended not to notice the twitchy defensive reaction. Her manner once again became more mild and approachable. "Forgive me, but I should return to tending the bar. It has been a pleasure meeting you, Harry, Fleur and Luna."

She extended a marble pale hand and Harry hesitated only a moment before grasping it in a handshake. "Likewise."

Luna and Fleur also shook hands with the vampire and only then did Ophelia speak again. "Please feel free to stay and enjoy yourselves if you wish."

Harry carefully did not glance at Fleur as he responded. "I think we'll be calling it a night."

"As you wish. Frank will continue to cover for you as he can, but only as long as you do not attract undue attention to yourselves."

"We appreciate it." Harry said with nod.

"Perhaps we will speak again and share drinks before you go back home?" Ophelia hinted.

With the way she was staring at his jugular, Harry could guess what kind of drink she was angling for.

"Perhaps." He replied non-committally. Ophelia was still creepy as fuck, but she _had_ helped them out.

XXXXX

"What a creepy woman." Fleur said with a shudder as they filed back into their room.

"I liked her, she seemed nice." Luna added in.

"Nice, yes, but just so….so…" The veela was unable to properly articulate her misgivings.

"Dark?" Harry offered helpfully.

"Yes!" Fleur said, rubbing her arms as if to ward off a chill. "Did you feel it too? That sense that she was going to kill us all at any moment?"

"No." Harry replied, making her deflate. "That was probably a result what she is. You felt unnerved by me too, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, but not like this!" Fleur protested. "She felt like a hole in the world."

"You really don't want to get near a dementor if this is what a vampire makes you feel." Harry noted, slightly amused.

"Certainly not." Fleur agreed empathically, recalling old stories about those monsters and how they seemed to enjoy eating veela even more than wizards and witches. She had often thought the British barbaric and stupid to use them as prison guards, but all veela were glad to have them confined to Azkaban instead of scattered across the world for anyone to stumble on.

Further discussion was put on hold as Sirius knocked and entered without waiting for a response.

"I thought I heard you coming back." He remarked, looking at them curiously. "How was the film?"

"Amazing." Harry said, exchanging a smirk with Fleur.

"Well I'm glad one of us had a good time." Sirius pouted.

"Oh? And what was so terrible about your evening?" Fleur asked teasingly, glad to move onto something other than the creepy vampire. "Did Laney not want to sleep with you?"

"Pffft, no, I already shagged her three days ago. These American birds dig a British accent." Sirius waved off the absurd notion that a woman wouldn't want to sleep with him. "The problem was that she wanted me to meet her friends and sprung a surprise group outing on me!"

"So?" Luna asked, not getting what the problem was.

"Don't you see?" Sirius said indignantly. "First they take you to meet her friends, then her parents and then they start talking about moving in together and before you know it you're on the road to Marital Hell."

"I can hear you capitalising that." Harry said flatly. "'Marital Hell' is not a geographic location, it doesn't get capitalised."

"Hell isn't a real place either, but it gets capitalised." Sirius argued stubbornly. "Marital Hell deserves to be capitalised on account of being far worse. You only get tortured in Hell, in Marital hell, you get shackled to just one woman. And the in-laws, oh sweet Merlin, the in-laws."

Fleur leaned over to Harry to whisper in his ear. "We need to go to France one day and take him with us. I have some distant cousins that would love to put a leash on him."

"I'm tempted to go along with that plan just to see him following a veela around like a lost puppy." Harry muttered back.

"Hey, what are you two whispering about?" Sirius asked, staring at them suspiciously.

"Nothing, Sirius. Nothing at all."

"Well anyway, we need to get out of here. Staying at an inn is incredibly awkward when the receptionist is your ex, trust me on this."

"You're in luck, because I was going to suggest that very thing in the morning." Harry said.

"Oh good, we're finally going to Vegas. Honestly, what was the point of coming to this side of the Atlantic if you're just going to stay in your room and read books?" Sirius complained.

"Because I can barely trust what Americans have to say about America, nevermind the British." Harry riposted. "And Vegas wasn't what I had in mind as our next destination."

"Tough, because that's where we're going. I need some irresponsible fun and whatever you had in mind is probably boring as shite."

"It is not." Harry argued weakly, knowing full well that camping somewhere in Arizona's wilderness and waiting for his ravens to bring him word of any Skinwalkers they may have found was indeed kind of boring.

"Vegas could be fun." Fleur chimed in. "And it's in Nevada, isn't it? That's pretty close to where you were thinking of having us go anyway."

The thing was, Harry didn't really _want_ to go to Vegas. It simply didn't appeal to him. Unfortunately, he seemed to be outnumbered and he didn't want to force the other to go along with his wishes.

"Luna, what do you think?" He asked.

"Maybe there are snorkacks in Vegas." The still age-potioned girl said, which essentially translated to her being curious about it.

"Fine, I guess we're going to Vegas." Harry said in defeat.

"No need to be so excited about it." Sirius said with a roll of the eyes.

"If you end up doing something iredeemably stupid, like say getting drunkenly married to a transgender prostitute, I will confirm the marriage and welcome her or him or them or whatever into the Black family." Harry warned petulantly.

Sirius wasn't going to let his godson see him shudder at the idea. "If that happens, then I'll expect you to learn enough Necromancy to bring my parents back from the dead so we can introduce them to my blushing bride." They'd probably re-die on the spot.

"Deal."

XXXXX

 _Meanwhile, back in Britain. Potter Manor._

It was time to face facts. Tonks didn't want to do that because it cast aspersions her identity as a strong, independent woman that could get by perfectly fine on her own, but the truth was what it was.

She was desperately bored.

Or perhaps lonely might be a better word. She had gotten used to having girlfriends in Fleur and Luna to do stuff with and even if they weren't shagging anymore, Harry was still fun to be around. Sometimes.

Now, with all of them gone, she was back in the same place she'd been in before, the place where life consisted of work and vegging out at home with far too much time to think. It was a worse spot than she'd been in before actually, because all the methods she'd once used to occupy her free time were less appealing now than they'd once been.

Going out for some fun was so much more fun with company and the last few one night stands she'd picked up had left her feeling profoundly disappointed and unsatisfied. Damn Harry and his tingly Sex Magic skills. Damn him for using the Joining. How dare he use morally questionable magic to make her feel good. Damn Fleur for her constant subtle hints that she was welcome to join in on the fun. Damn sexy veela with her perfect arse and perfect tits and perfect face that you couldn't even resent because she was more than willing to share them. Damn Luna for obliviously insisting that Tonks would be a perfect addition to the group.

And damn her stupid brain for dredging up vivid fantasies of what it would be like to be part of a sweaty, four-way tangle of bodies every time she scratched her itch.

But that was not her immediate problem. At the moment, her most pressing concern was boredom and loneliness, hence her reason for sprawling on one of Potter Manor's couches and pouting. Metaphorically speaking that was. Aurors didn't really pout.

She'd come here hoping to kill some time by talking to Penny, but the former Ravenclaw had apparently gone to visit her parents or something. Teeny had asked if she wanted a sandwich earlier and stared at her so hopefully that Tonks couldn't bring herself to say no even though she hadn't been hungry. At least she wasn't the only one missing people.

The only ones in the manor aside from her were Narcissa and that werewolf friend of Sirius', Remus Lupin.

Harry was a cruel, cruel man to make her snobby, bigoted aunt work with a werewolf on a constant basis. She approved.

She'd talked to Remus a few times. He was a decent guy and was painfully obviously crushing on her.

Tonks was honest enough with herself to admit that she might have been interested once upon a time. Remus was an older man, which she liked. The lycanthropy could have been worked around, as it was only in the week before and after the Full Moon that sex carried a risk of infection. Tonks might have actually considered it a bonus at one point, as it gave Remus the mysterious air of a man burdened by a curse.

Now she couldn't tune out that voice in her head that made cutting, cynical observations about the man all the time, pointing out how he wasn't so much 'burdened by a curse' as he was by self-pity. It sounded a lot like Harry.

The voice made equally cutting observations about her own past inclinations to be drawn towards men with issues. Snape came to mind, a schoolgirl crush that she was taking to the grave with her. The imaginary voice of Harry inside her head was sarcastic enough without adding the real one to it, thank you very much.

Come to think of it, that voice had no business being so fucking sarcastic. Harry was hardly the model of a well-adjusted teenager, what with his nearly obsessive study of any kind of magic, his rush to grow up and his disturbingly ice-cold reaction to the people he'd killed. In fact, Harry probably had more issues than all the men she'd ever been attracted to combined, he was just better at pretending that he didn't have them. Figures that she'd find him the most interesting out of all the men she knew, the Nymphadora Tonks approach to romance strikes again.

"Nymphadora?" The perplexed voice cut through her introspection like a knife.

"Don't call me that." She snapped out reflexively, glaring at the offending speaker, who happened to be her aunt. "What do you want?"

Narcissa straightened her posture and Tonks knew that the woman must be fighting down her initial response in favor of something more polite.

"Nothing, I was just surprised to see you here." Narcissa finally said.

"Right." Tonks said and the air became stilted and awkward as it always did between them on the rare occasions that they exchanged words.

Tonks had expected Narcissa to make her excuses and leave as she usually did when this happened, but her aunt was still standing there awkwardly.

Just as she was thinking of commenting on the weather for no other reason than to fill the silence, Narcissa finally spoke up again.

"Um, does your mother still live in the same place?" She asked, trying to hide her nervousness behind the usual icy composure and not being entirely successful.

"Why do you want to know?" Tonks demanded suspiciously. She didn't know much about the relationship between Narcissa and her mother, but she knew that they were not on good terms.

"She's my sister and it's been a long time since I've seen her." Narcissa said.

 _And whose fault is that?_ Tonks thought to herself caustically. She might not have the details, but she could well imagine what a snobby pureblood like her aunt would have to say to the sister that had married a muggleborn.

Still, it wasn't _really_ any of her business and Andromeda Tonks was no pushover. She'd be able to handle her baby sister.

"Yeah, she still lives in the same place."

"Thank you." Narcissa said with a smile and Tonks blinked at how _genuine_ that looked and sounded. Damn, if this kept up she might actually start to like her aunt.

The blonde witch left soon after that and Tonks quickly realised that she was now alone in the manor with a lovesick werewolf.

Awkward. Time to make a tactical retreat back to her apartment.

XXXXX

Narcissa took a deep breath to fortify herself as her destination came within sight.

The house was nothing much to look at. It didn't stand out from any of the others in the small village it was located in. The only thing that made it in any way special was the witch and wizard that lived in it, those being her long estranged sister Andromeda and her husband Ted Tonks.

She had been thinking about doing this since before Harry had gone on his trip to America and had run out of excuses to justify delaying it. If she could get along with Sirius and have a civil – if stilted – conversation with Nymphadora, she could at least try to patch up her relationship with Andromeda.

It was hard though. The unassuming little house seemed to loom larger than Hogwarts with the promise of her sister's disdain. The last time they had seen each other, over twenty years ago now, angry and bitter words had been exchanged.

As she came closer, she noticed that there was someone working in the lush garden that sprawled in front of the house. A female someone with long, dark brown hair.

Andromeda had always had a bit of a green thumb, something that their parents had disapproved of, claiming that digging in the dirt was for commoners. Narcissa recalled making a few snide quips on the subject herself that she now wished she hadn't. There were a lot of things she wished she hadn't said.

The sight of her sister made her want to bolt, but she stiffened her spine and kept walking. She could do this. Still, it was a good thing that Andromeda was outside, or she might have lost her nerve when faced with the need to knock on the door. As it was, this was her third attempt, the first two having ended with a retreat back to Malfoy Manor when she had come within sight of the house.

Andromeda couldn't see her approach, crouched as she was in the other direction while she dug in the soil with a small garden spade, but there was nothing wrong with her ears.

Narcissa mustered up a nervous smile as Andromeda turned towards her. Andromeda's own smile turned to surprise and then turned stony.

"What do _you_ want?" She spat, turning back to her work with more vehemence that strictly necessary.

"Can't I visit my sister?" Narcissa asked weakly.

"You made it clear we aren't sisters anymore the last time we spoke."

Narcissa didn't flinch at the hostility, having expected it, but it still stung though.

"I'm sorry."

Andromeda finally stopped stabbing the ground, but she didn't turn around.

"Why are you here, Narcissa?"

She wished Andromeda would look at her.

"I want my sister back."

"Azkaban is up north."

"My other sister, the nice one."

"I'm not a Black anymore."

"Harry would gladly welcome you back, your daughter is a good friend of his." Harry would have also gladly confirmed Nymphadora as a Black, but that he couldn't do. The Metamorphmagus had been born with her mother disowned and was legally barred from being considered a Black, a precaution put into place by the old families centuries ago to prevent the offspring of disowned members from making claims. Even if Andromeda was welcomed back into the fold, the law still applied.

"Sirius already offered, but I turned him down. The last thing that I had to do with that wretched family was to take a piss on Druella's grave after the bitch died."

Narcissa nearly choked on her shock. Druella had been their mother, though Andromeda clearly didn't consider her that anymore. No real surprise there. Druella Black neé Rosier had not been a pleasant woman, not even to her daughters. Perhaps especially not to her daughters. Narcissa had been their mother's favorite for whatever reason, perhaps her coloring or perhaps because she had always played the part of the perfect daughter. Bellatrix and Andromeda on the other hand, had attracted their mother's wrath like a magnet attracted iron.

"How did it feel?" She asked, biting her lip to keep down an inappropriate giggle. She really should not be laughing at this, but even Narcissa had no fondness for her mother, having lived in fear of the woman's mercurial moods. Perhaps Bellatrix would have been less cruel, less ruined if not for their mother's half-mad shrieking and liberal use of pain spells as a parenting tool.

Andromeda finally turned around to look at her as she answered.

"Not as good as pissing on her while she was alive would have been, but good enough." She said, standing up to look her in the eye. "You're dressed like a muggle."

It was true. Narcissa had come here wearing blue jeans and a white pullover. Aside from being less conspicuous than robes in this muggle village, she was also hoping to make an impression on her sister. Only a pair of old dragon hide boots were of magical origin.

"I've had to adjust to a lot of things recently." She said by way of explanation.

Andromeda snorted and went back to her gardening. "I'll bet you did. Too proud to work for a living but not so proud that you'd be unwilling to spread your legs for your husband's killer."

Andromeda might not be a Black anymore, but she could still hold a grudge like one. Her sharp tongue hadn't dulled any either.

Narcissa pushed down the angry response she wanted to make. She'd known this wasn't going to be easy.

And Andromeda was sort of right anyway. She _had_ gone to Harry because she didn't want to work for a living. It was a lot more complicated than that of course, involving things like loss of reputation and the various consequences of such, but that was the essence of it.

"I would do anything for my son." Narcissa said, not wasting time playing coy as she did with anyone else that probed into her relationship with Harry. "Spreading my legs for a handsome young man is the least of it."

Andromeda merely grunted in response, but Narcissa thought she could hear at least a hint of respect in it.

The conversation had stalled though and Narcissa was mentally scrambling for something to keep it going.

"Can I help?" She finally asked.

Andromeda turned her head and gave her a disbelieving dark-eyed stare. That was fair enough, as Narcissa had once been famous for her hatred of Herbology class.

"Your clothes will get dirty." Andromeda mocked.

A complaint that Narcissa had made often during her Hogwarts years.

"The house-elves will wash them."

A retort that Andromeda had usually made in response to her complaints, when she was around to hear them.

"Do you even know what to do?" Andromeda asked skeptically.

Narcissa didn't really, but she smiled brightly at her big sister anyway, because that was as good an acceptance of her presence as she could hope for right now.


	31. Chapter 31

**Special thanks on this chapter goes to Heromtz, who provided his insight as a native Mexican in the relevant sections.**

 **As always, extra special thanks go to Joe Lawyer for his excellent feedback.**

XXXXX

 _March 5th. Las Vegas._

"Blimey, these muggles sure do know how to make a hotel room." Sirius said, looking around the luxurious accomodations with an impressed expression on his face. He'd never stayed in a place like this before.

"With what we're paying to stay here, they damn well better." Harry groused, mostly for the sake of grousing. It _was_ a great room and the price, while high, wasn't really enough to put a serious dent into his finances. Plus, with Sirius insisting that they do some of the gambling that Vegas was infamous for, Harry was certain that he'd be able to cheat his way into making a profit from this part of the trip.

"The bean counters back in New York are going to have kittens when they see the spike in my department's budget." Frank, who was technically here on business and thus actually being paid to stay here, muttered.

"Good." Harry grunted.

"Look, bath robes!" Luna squealed, skipping out of the bathroom wrapped in a canary yellow robe. "It's so fluffy! Harry, can we take these home with us when we leave?"

"I don't think hotel management would approve of you stealing their stuff." Frank pointed out awkwardly.

"Oh, I thought they were gifts." Luna said with a pout.

"Don't worry about it, Luna. It's not stealing, it's just borrowing indefinitely with no intention of ever returning." Harry said, not overly concerned with what the hotel management approved of.

Luna's expression immediately brightened. "Okay!"

"Maybe we should 'borrow' this couch too while we're at it." Fleur chimed in from her lounging position on said item of furniture. "It's very comfortable."

"Heh, just imagine the looks on their faces as they try to figure out how we made off with the couch." Sirius chuckled.

"That's probably not a good idea." Frank said with a wince. "Vegas has a long history of violations to the Statute of Secrecy because people kept getting tempted to cheat at gambling. I was actually supposed to confiscate your wands as soon as we arrived. If the Aurors catch so much as a hint misuse of magic, they'll come down on us like a ton of bricks."

"Is that so?" Harry asked rhetorically, feeling his opinion of their chaperone rise just a little bit. "How close an eye are they keeping on this place?"

"Not very close." Frank admitted. "Every spell cast in Vegas gets a lot of scrutiny, but they mostly rely on wand confiscation as a preventative measure. There are only a couple of wizards stationed here on a constant basis to take care of that, but you don't have to worry about them since I'm here. Just try to keep as low a profile as possible or we'll all be in trouble."

"You hear that, Harry? That means no cheating." Sirius teased.

"No, that just means careful cheating." Harry corrected.

"Leave that for later." Fleur said authoritatively. "I am hungry and this hotel has a restaurant, _non_? We skipped breakfast since _someone_ " She turned to stare at Sirius, who adopted his best innocent expression. "wanted us to leave early in order to avoid encountering a girl whose heart he broke."

"It's not my fault she had this deluded fantasy that I'd take her back to Britain and make a lady out of her." Sirius protested.

"Sirius' continued ability to pick all the wrong women to have flings with aside, I think Fleur has the right of it. I'm pretty hungry myself." Harry said.

"I want pudding." Luna chimed in.

"Wouldn't you rather try something a little different for a change?" Fleur asked, continuing her ongoing effort to broaden both Harry and Luna's culinary horizons.

"I will be trying something different, different pudding."

"Of course, because American pudding is completely different from British pudding." Harry chipped in, amused.

"Exactly." Luna nodded firmly.

Fleur sighed. Luna was entirely too fond of pudding.

XXXXX

 _Later._

After Luna gorged herself on four different types of pudding, Fleur insisted on going clothes shopping, claiming that she and Luna needed new dresses if they were going out.

Harry handed the two several thousand dollars in cash and another dose of Aging Potion and left to do his own thing, as did Frank and Sirius.

After finding an isolated spot, he turned into Blackbeak and flew into the surrounding countryside.

This place was much too warm for his tastes, but he knew that there were plenty of ravens in Nevada, a problematic number as far as people were concerned actually. Enough that the government was allowing people to kill several thousand of them every year in an effort to lower their population. It wasn't really working as their numbers just kept on growing, but that's what you get for giving an opportunistic bird lots of opportunities.

It didn't take long to locate a few of his feathery brethren. They really were all over the damn place, perching on telephone poles and power lines, nesting on electric towers, giving themselves a spectacular vantage point for preying on other birds, tortoises, food discarded by humans and roadkill.

Harry transformed back underneath a power line that was currently serving as a perch for about a dozen ravens, probably the bird analogue of a teenaged gang as ravens were known to form those, and croaked out a greeting to them.

In unison, the birds cocked their head curiously and stared at him for a few moments before apparently electing a spokesperson to talk to him. The chosen raven flew off the power line and perched on his outstretched arm, croaking inquiringly.

" _I need your help._ " Harry croaked back at it in the corvid language that he'd still not bothered to name.

" _Help?_ " The raven inquired, it's limited vocabulary working against it.

" _I am searching for something_." Harry explained. " _Magic. A man or woman that can transform into many animals_."

The conversation went on for a while longer as he explained to the bird what to look for and where. The raven's ability to speak and understand increased noticeably during this time and by the end it had haggled a large meal and a more secure nest out of him.

Harry was aware that he was probably going to end up making the raven problem in the area worse by interacting with them and increasing their intelligence, but that was no concern of his. They could turn the sky black with their numbers for all he cared.

XXXXX

It took several hours for them all to return to the hotel, at which point Sirius began prodding them to move off to the nearest casino.

"I'll just excuse myself for now." Frank said once they arrived. "I'll be around if you need me."

"Bye, Frank." Luna waved cheerily, smiling when the American wizard returned it.

"Alright, what should we try first?" Sirius asked, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

"What are those?" Luna asked, pointing at a row of machines. She was still under the effects of the Aging Potion and was looking very nice in a light blue dress that Fleur had helped her pick out.

"Slot machines. You pull the lever and hope to get a winning matchup. Mostly used by old ladies with nothing better to do if my research is correct." Harry explained blandly.

"Let's try the craps table first." Sirius suggested and started walking towards it without waiting for a reply.

"Craps?" Fleur asked uncertainly, wondering if she'd heard that correctly. English still threw her sometimes. Like Luna, she was also in a dress, but hers was silver, which she insisted was her color.

"Something to do with dice, no idea why it's called craps though." Harry answered with a shrug.

They went after Sirius and saw him studying the game that was being played.

"Figured anything out yet?" Harry asked as he moved to stand beside his godfather.

"Err, looks like we have to bet on the dice throws, but I'm still trying to work out the rules of this thing." Sirius said with a sheepish shrug.

The four of them continued to observe the game, slowly getting a general idea of how it was played. Then one of the casino employees invited them to play.

XXXXX

 _One hour later._

"That was easy." Harry muttered, several hundred dollars richer than he'd been before. Magic made the act of throwing dice considerably less random than it was supposed to be. To the point of boredom in fact. Good for making easy money though, should he ever need it.

"If it was so easy, then why did we leave?" Sirius pouted.

"You're just upset because you were starting to attract the gambler bimboes." Harry snorted.

"What's your point?"

"My point is that you're thinking with your cock again. The last time you did that, we ended up having Adrastia Zabini in our lives."

"That's no reason to cockblock me now!" Sirius protested.

"Cockblocking you is a reason in and of itself."

"You're a terrible godson."

"Thank you."

"Gentlemen, perhaps we could choose our next game instead of bickering?" Fleur said pointedly.

Harry and Sirius looked at each other and shrugged. Fleur was probably right.

"Poker?" Sirius suggested.

Harry considered it briefly. Disregarding his ability to glimpse people's surface thoughts through eye contact, it would be harder to cheat than with dice. In fact, he wasn't sure how he could influence the dealer to give him a particular hand. It would be an interesting exercise.

"Poker it is."

"Neat." Luna chimed in. "What's poker?"

"You can sit with me and I will show you 'ow to play." Fleur said, hooking her arm in Luna's elbow and leading her to the poker area.

XXXXX

 _Several hours later._

"Two pairs." Harry said, turning his cards around to show them.

He looked to his right, where Sirius was sitting. _A pair of aces._

"One pair." Sirius grumbled, showing an ace of spades and one of diamonds. He knew that he had just been taken out of the game.

The man next to him was morbidly obese, with big rolls of fat hanging from his frame and multiple chins wobbling beneath his jaw whenever he moved. Due to that and his constant sweating, Harry had taken to referring to him as Porky inside his head. He was a pretty decent player and obviously had money to burn, as he had constantly pushed up the betting limit. He had also been trying to impress Fleur despite all evidence pointing to her being disgusted by his interest. _A straight_.

"Straight." Porky said with a satisfied grin, sweat shining on his forehead.

The next man in line was an old guy in his sixties with thinning hair and a neat mustache. He'd joined in some time ago and was indisputably the most savvy player at the table. _Three of a kind, queens._

"Three of a kind." The old man said with resignation, showing a trio of queens.

Fleur was the last player still in the game, Luna being a bit too open with her expressions and had gotten whittled down some time ago. _Two pairs, kings and jacks._

"Two pairs." She said with a huff. She did indeed have a pair of kings and jacks.

The dealer pushed the chips towards Porky and began shuffling the cards again.

"I think I'll bow out here, it's getting pretty late." The old man said, standing up along with the recently eliminated Sirius.

"Why don't we play one last game?" Porky suggested. "All in, one hand only."

"I must bow out then, I don't 'ave that much." Fleur said. She had been approaching elimination herself and there was close to five thousand dollars between the other three players still in the game.

"I would accept a night with you in place of money." Porky countered, looking like he was trying not to be creepy and failing.

"Sir, those kinds of bets aren't allowed." The dealer broke in sternly.

"I'm sure the lady can decide for herself if she wishes to take the bet or not." Old Man argued, eyeballing Fleur with interest. He had been much less obvious about it, but he'd been just as enamored with the veela's beauty as Porky was. He wouldn't have suggested such a crass bet himself, but was perfectly willing to back it now that it was out there.

Fleur had initially looked quite repulsed by the idea of sleeping with the land whale, but now looked at the large stacks of chips still on the table and then turned towards Harry with a calculating look.

"What do you think, 'Arry? Should I take that bet?" She asked, but the real question was whether there was any chance of Porky or Old Man actually winning.

"You'll be mine tonight either way." Harry said unconcernedly. Cheating at poker was child's play with Legilimency, but he'd spent the past several hours figuring out how to rig who got which cards. That had honestly been more fun for him than the actual game.

"Will I now? And what if I win? Will you be mine?" Fleur challenged.

"You won't win." Harry asserted with a self-assured smirk. "Lady Luck knows I like to be on top."

Sirius snorted at that and behind him, Luna giggled.

"Lady Luck is a notoriously fickle mistress." Old Man commented, sitting back down with a small smile.

 _Lady Luck has been my bitch for the past hour._ Harry thought to himself with an internal snicker.

At first, using Legilimency to glimpse who had what had been his only option to cheat, and not a perfect one either since Fleur and Luna had good Occlumency shields and Sirius had ones good enough to repel such a basic mental probe.

Now though, after the hours he'd had to practice, he was able to control who got which cards. Influencing the dealer was out of the question, because his shuffling was random and would thus require far too direct intervention to get anything done with that.

Instead, Harry had focused on individualising each card. True, they were all just thick paper with pictures on them, but those very pictures gave them a sort of identity. An individuality. Similar to a rune but without the complex meaning attached to a runic symbol. It had taken quite some time to magically imprint that individuality into all the cards, but now that he had, he could easily switch them around. The dealer could shuffle all he wished, but it was Harry who decided who got which cards.

"So, Fleur. Are you in or are you chicken?" He taunted his lover.

She glared back. "I'm in."

Porky looked like he was about to wet his pants with excitement.

The dealer didn't look pleased and was probably worrying about his job, so Harry put a minor compulsion on him to go along with it.

The dealer huffed and started shuffling.

Harry was tempted to do something stupidly dramatic like give Porky and Old Man both four of a kind and himself a royal flush, but that would be retarded.

Once the cards were distributed, the dealer pushed all the chips to the center of the table.

"One hand only, winner takes it all." He said, surreptitiously glancing at Fleur. "Show your cards."

"A pair of deuces." Porky said, profoundly disappointed.

"A pair of threes." Old Man sighed, showing his own lackluster hand.

"Two pairs." Fleur said neutrally, staring at Harry.

"Three of a kind." He grinned back at her.

"It would seem that Lady Luck really does know what you like." Old Man said to Harry, shrugging in a 'you win some, you lose some' fashion.

"I told you so."

XXXXX

Sirius decided to keep gambling for a while longer, but Harry took his winnings and went back to the hotel.

As he crossed the threshold of their rented room, he pulled his most important win of the night to him so that her back was pressed to his chest and assaulted her neck with an aggressive kiss.

"Well now that you won me, what are you going to do with me?" Fleur purred with a small moan at the attention.

"I'm sure I can think of a few things." Harry murmured into her neck, sliding his hands over the front of her body, enjoying the texture of the silver dress she was wearing.

Feeling Luna's hands going around his body, he left her a bit of space so that she could start undressing him.

Harry could hardly believe there had been a time that he'd been glad of the promise Luna had made to her father. After having her take part in the sex but never more than foreplay, he was sorely tempted just blow it off and go all the way, fifteen wasn't that much different than sixteen anyway. Luna wanted it too, he could tell, but keeping her promise was all the more important to her now that her father was dead.

Ah well, at least there was only a year left. Less even.

Fleur reached back to give his member a few strokes the moment his pants dropped.

"I've been waiting for this all day." She said lustily and wiggled out of his grip, dropping to her knees in front of him.

As the familiar sucking heat of her mouth enveloped his member, Harry gave a low groan to express his enjoyment. While he did sometimes feel that Fleur was using him as a magical cum dispenser, he was at the end of the day a guy and wouldn't dream of complaining about an ultra beautiful woman wanting to suck his cock multiple times a day.

While his veela lower was busy down below, Harry focused on getting Luna naked. She helped along eagerly and pulled him down for a kiss as soon as it was done.

Harry made sure to tease her nipples with his fingers while fighting the tongue war, placing the familiar pleasure spells almost on automatic. He'd done it so many times at this point that it took barely any focus at all.

Then his fingers reached lower and started stroking along her lower lips, giving the little nub of her clitoris the occasional flick as well.

The angle was more than a bit awkward with Fleur occupying his front, but magic made up for it and Luna was soon panting needily and clinging to his shoulders. Her excitement egged on his own and in no time at all, he found himself grunting as he released into Fleur's hungry mouth.

The veela made appreciative sounds low in her throat as she drank down the magically charged sperm and Harry felt the familiar swell in her magic as she did.

The magical flare helped Luna along as well and she clung to him as she climaxed.

All three of them were left panting in the aftermath, two from their release and one from need.

Fleur all but jumped to her feet and attacked his mouth, pushing him towards the bed.

Luna giggled as she saw the veela's eagerness and decided to egg things on.

"You two have fun, I want to watch." She said, moving to sit in a comfy armchair that had a good view of the bed.

It was a testimony to how much the dynamic had between them had changed that Harry didn't even find that odd anymore, nevermind objectionable. He simply accepted that Luna would be masturbating as she watched him fuck Fleur, and then she would probably join in again a bit later.

"You lost to me, so I don't want any struggling out of you tonight." He murmured into her ear, cupping her groin with his right hand and a breast with his left.

"You cheated." Fleur accused, though it lacked any force on account of it being almost moaned out.

"A win is a win." Harry countered and pushed her on the bed.

Fleur quickly turned around so that she was propped up on her elbows, staring at him with eyes full of lust. "'Ow dishonorably British of you."

Harry grinned as he kneeled at the edge of the bed, pulled her by the legs so that she was lying right at the edge of it, removed her shoes and slid his hands up her legs all the way up to her waist. "I'd rather be a dishonorable winner than a honorable loser."

Fleur didn't reply, merely bit her lip as he slipped off the tiny white thong she had worn under her dress.

"Someone's excited." He teased, feeling the dampness on the garment. Then he brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply. "You smell delicious."

"Pervert." She teased.

Harry didn't reply with words, choosing instead to grab her legs again and took a whiff of the source.

His enjoyment of cunnilingus hadn't abated even though he had picked up a few other fetishes along the way and Fleur expressed her appreciation of that with a cry of pleasure as he gave her clitoris a firm lick, her fists twisintg the sheets as all the right buttons were pushed with both tongue and magic.

Harry took his time, deriving great enjoyment from every cry and moan of pleasure and uncontrolled tremor. There was a certain artistry to the manipulation of sensitive nerves that made a woman buck her hips into his mouth impatiently, looking for that final push that he refused to give until he had his fill of her lusty whimpers.

" _Stop teasing me!_ " Fleur cried out in needy French after several minutes of being kept on the edge of orgasm, English being a bit beyond her at the moment.

Harry decided to oblige, undoing the little spell that had been keeping her climax at bay. The true beauty of that particular spell was that it also sent a jolt of sensation through her nerves as it was removed.

Fleur climaxed with a strangled cry, hips bucking without her input and a spllater of female sexual fluids squirted into Harry's face.

With a grin on his face, Harry wiped off the wetness. That never got old. Now it was time to take care of his own pleasure though and he once again used his grip on her legs to turn the still recovering Fleur onto her stomach and then pull her lower half off the bed.

One of Harry's other fetishes was the desire to be in control and this position appealed to him for that reason, but it could be made even better.

He grabbed Fleur's arms and brought them together on the small of her back. Then once her arms were neutralised, he grabbed both her wrists in one of his and used his free hand to grab her hair as he positioned himself.

His earlier efforts had left him rock hard and Fleur was of course already soaked, so there was little reason to be careful as he plunged into her with a single forceful motion.

Fleur's cry of pleasure was a sweet sound to his ears as he set a slow but relentless pace. Seated in a chair across the room, Luna locked eyes full of lust with him as she imitated his actions on herself through the use of her fingers.

Fleur saw this too and felt a happy warmth spread in her chest with every thrust, moaning lustily in helpless pleasure. She liked being in control too and didn't get the chance nearly often enough for her tastes, but submitting to Harry wasn't any great hardship either.

His pace steadily increased over the next few minutes until he was grunting and pounding into her with reckless abandon.

And then with a final thrust, Fleur felt his second discharge of the night, this time spilling it's warmth and power towards her womb. The glorious feeling was accompanied by the Joining, Harry's familiar soul enveloping her own in a soothing spiritual embrace, even the cold darkness that was part of it had long since become familiar and comforting.

Eventually, the Joining ended and Fleur weakly laid her newly freed arms next to her head, taking deep breaths with her cheek mashed into the bed. She hadn't even gotten the chance to take her dress off and Harry's member was still inside her, although it had softened.

"That was beautiful." Luna said softly, sitting on the bed next to Fleur. There was a sheen of sweat on her body that gave mute testimony to her own enjoyment.

"It's not over yet." Harry said, looking at his younger girlfriend over with a gleam in his eye. "Seems a shame to let her mouth go unused."

Fleur felt his member regaining its hardness as he grabbed her hips.

"You're right, Harry." Luna agreed and scooted over with legs wide open to give the veela access.

Fleur didn't put up any kind of fight, merely braced herself with her now freed arms and started lapping at Luna's sex while Harry renewed his thrusts.

Luna's magic was not as strong as Harry's and her fluids not as thick, but it was good all the same. Still, she eagerly awaited the expiration of that stupid promise so that she could have both at once.

XXXXX

 _A couple of hours later._

Harry let out a content sigh as his two girls cuddling into his sides, a three-way Joining settling into place. Fleur and Luna were only just getting the hang of performing it consciously, but he was easily able to guide them with his own greater ability.

"I love you." Fleur murmured softly into the crook of his neck.

"Love you too." Luna replied sleepily.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed in consternation. Neither Fleur nor Luna had ever said that to him. Should he say it back? Did he even love them? What the fuck was love anyway?

He knew that he wanted them to stay part of his life and would go to considerable lengths to make them happy. Was that it? He could feel a lot of affection directed at him from both girls and he returned it, but was that really love? Shouldn't it feel like something more distinctive, something that you could definitely point a finger at and say 'there, that's love'? Hate felt pretty distinctive, but despite what overly romantic idiots thought, hate and love were not two sides of the same coin.

Sometimes, Harry envied people that were more in touch with their emotions, despite all the trouble it seemed to cause. He spent most of his time in neutral and didn't really understand those that got excited or upset over anything that wasn't life-altering, the rune provoked rages from a few years ago aside. The Jedi mantra of 'feel, don't think' was completely wasted on him. Thinking was his primary pastime.

A second ticked by as Harry continued pondering this vexing subject.

Fleur and Luna were easy for him to like. Quick to laugh but not annoying in their humor, a good contrast to his more biting, sarcastic one. Each strong-willed in their own way, but not pushy or overbearing. They knew he needed time to himself sometimes and didn't try to 'cure' his introversion, nor did they make an issue out of his occasionally morally dubious actions. In a way entirely separate from their good looks, he could hardly ask for any more.

He was overthinking the situation. The end result wasn't dependent on whether he said the words in this particular moment, so he might as well say them. Time would tell, as it always did.

"I love you girls too." Harry said, relaxing now that he had reasoned himself into a logically unassailable position.

The two blondes wiggled closer and he could feel them smiling, but they didn't say anything. Another quality of theirs he appreciated, they didn't ruin comfortable moments with needless discussion.

XXXXX

The next morning upon leaving their room, Harry, Fleur and Luna were witness to a small miracle.

Sirius was up before them and had already ordered room service.

Of course, that was probably more to do with the bleached blonde twenty-something that was sitting with him than with Sirius himself, as the dog in human form looked to be nursing a mild hangover.

"Morning." Harry greeted, setting off a procession of similar allocutions.

"Guys, this is, uh,..." Sirius started once they were all done greeting each other, looking at his most recent sexual partner with consternation as he realised that he'd never gotten her name.

"Lily." She said dryly.

"Nice going, Sirius." Harry snickered. "Too bad she isn't a redhead, then you could've pretended she was my mother."

"Screw you, Harry." Sirius grumbled, bitterly regretting that he had ever admitted to developing a tiny crush on Lily after all the time he'd spent helping James chase her.

"I bet you wish my mother would've screwed you."

"I hate you so much."

"But not as much as missing out on a chance to make a Lily sandwich with my dad, right?"

"Damn it, Harry, it's too early for this."

"Did I interrupt your daydreams about my mother wearing nothing but an apron while she made you breakfast?"

As the verbal sparring between the two wizards escalated, the American, non-witch Lily turned to Fleur.

"Hi." She said with an awkward smile, extending her hand. "I'm Lily."

" _Bonjour_." Fleur replied, shaking the offered hand. "Fleur, and this is Luna."

"Hi!" The younger blonde chirped, looking up from her artful spreading of jam on bread.

"So, you're French?" Lily asked after returning the greeting. "I've always wanted to go to France."

"I recommend it." Fleur said with a nod, still convinced of the superiority of everything French.

"You're determined to be extra horrible today, aren't you?" Sirius' accusatory words cut through their brief conversation.

"It depends. How much of my money did you gamble away last night?"

"Why do you immediately assume I lost it?" Sirius demanded indignantly.

"Don't take it personally, you inbred old man, it's just statistically more likely."

"I'm not old!"

"How much?"

"...two thousand."

"Inbred?" Lily asked in a whisper, leaning towards Fleur.

"'Is parents were first cousins, 'Arry never lets him forget it." Fleur answered.

"Ew, gross." Lily shuddered.

Fleur was amused, having frequently had sex with her own mother and expecting to have it with her sister in some years and then her daughters when she had them. Since veela reproduction only needed an influx of raw magic to their womb rather than genetic material, inbreeding was a non-issue for them and it was not unheard of for a veela to have children with her own father. Though that had generally only been done in desperation, when times were hard and there were no other options to propagate their species. A single wizard could provide many generations of veela daughters. Unnecessary in these more peaceful days, but it may well have been the only thing that had spared them from extinction centuries ago.

"See that, Sirius? You're grossing Lily out with your degeneracy." Harry said, catching the little exchange between the women.

"Sure, _I'm_ the degenerate. Says the guy making cracks about his dead mother having threesomes with me and your father."

"Your father and I." Harry corrected pedantically. "And am I supposed to cringe whenever sex is mentioned in relation to my parents? For all I care you could have buggered my mother with your wee doggy cock while she blew a stag."

Fleur nearly spat out the juice she'd been drinking at the unorthodox possible use for Sirius' and James' animal forms.

"My cock is not 'wee'!" Sirius exclaimed in outrage, focusing on the most important part of that sentence.

"If you say so, Sirius. You're being awfully defensive about it though."

"I should've dropped you on your head the first time your parents let me hold you." Sirius muttered darkly. "How Fleur and Luna put up with you is beyond me."

"'E 'as a really big cock and knows 'ow to use it." Fleur chipped in helpfully, still amused by the kinky imagery of a beastiality threesome and unable to help herself. She and Luna generally stayed out of these dick measuring contests that Harry and Sirius engaged in, but that had been simply too perfect.

"Yes, I can't wait for him to put it in my vagina." Luna added dreamily.

"Aren't you a bit young for that?" Lily asked, looking at the clearly underage blonde with considerable alarm.

"Yes." Luna pouted.

"What?" Lily blinked, thrown off by the unexpected reply.

"Don't worry about it." Harry said dismissively, adding a compulsion to his words and making a mental note to confound the woman so that she would have trouble bringing this conversation to mind later.

"So, what do you want to do today?" Sirius asked far too cheerfully to be real.

"I was thinking skydiving." Harry said.

"Skydiving?" Luna asked, cocking her head curiously.

"Jumping out of an airplane from several kilometers high seems like fun." Harry shrugged. It would certainly be more fun than jumping off the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower like he'd been tempted to do a few times.

"Is it safe?" Fleur asked dubiously.

"Should be."

"What about Frank?" Sirius asked, recalling that their chaperone was supposed to stay with them for the most part.

"Well he can either come with us or he can be a wimp, I'm fine with either." Harry shrugged again.

Lily was looking a bit queasy at the thought of jumping from a plane and sought refuge in safer topics. "So, Fleur, what product did you use to get that hair color? It's amazing!" She gushed, looking at the veela's silver-blonde hair.

"No product, this is my natural 'air color." Fleur said, not quite able to keep the vain preening out of her tone.

"No way!" The American exclaimed. "I'm so jealous."

"Envious, you're envious." Harry muttered to himself. "Jealousy is when you're afraid someone will take something of yours, not when you want something that another person has. Why does nobody understand this?"

Luna patted him on the thigh, being the only person to have heard him complain about the incorrect use of language.

XXXXX

The four of them continued to partake in the distractions of Las Vegas for a while longer. Money was lost, either through gambling or the high cost of their lifestyle, but Harry cheated shamelessly every time he entered a casino and thus actually made a small profit. Not a big one since he didn't want to draw attention, but more than enough to offset the losses.

Eventually though, he got fed up of the bright lights, the people and the whole city in general. The local ravens hadn't reported anything worth checking out yet and he wasn't willing to stick around any longer. There were other things he wanted to do in America besides watch his godfather develop a gambling habit.

Said godfather was less than enthused about this decision however...

"I can't believe you'd rather go to Mexico than stay in Vegas." Sirius sulked, sitting down with an almost petulant huff. He and Harry were already packed and waiting for the girls to finish up.

"We can barely take Luna anywhere in Vegas without Aging Potion and that stuff isn't exactly orange juice you know." Harry retorted in exasperation.

"But why _Mexico_ of all places? Why not Hawaii?" Sirius continued to complain.

"Because I want to take a look at the Aztec ruins."

"You could have babes, beaches and booze, but you'd rather look at rocks?" Sirius feigned horror. "It's like I don't even know you."

"I have babes, beaches are overrated and I never saw the appeal of booze." Harry shot down his godfather's arguments. "Look, Sirius, it doesn't say anywhere that we have to stay together all the time. Nothing is stopping you from going to Hawaii if you want, or staying in Vegas for that matter, but Fleur, Luna and I are going to Mexico."

Sirius sighed as if making a great sacrifice. "I suppose Hawaii is going to be nicer towards the end of our stay in America anyway. Why don't you tell me why you're so interested in seeing the Aztec ruins?"

"I want to see if I can find any hints about how they used magic." Harry answered, skirting around the truth somewhat. "To do that, I need to take a look at the ruins of their temples and understand their religion."

"I thought you hated religion." Sirius commented.

"I hate willful ignorance." Harry corrected. "Religion just happens to be a sub-category of willful ignorance in the age of information. But even if the Aztecs had existed today, I'd still have more respect for their religion than I do for modern day religious dunderheads as our good friend Snape would say."

"Didn't the Aztecs have a thing for human sacrifice?" Sirius said archly, grimacing slightly at the thought of Snape. "I've seen you curse a nun with three days of horrible flatulence for quoting the Bible, not even _to_ you at that, just within hearing distance, but you don't mind ritual murder?"

"That about sums it up." Harry nodded, recalling the nun episode with a smirk. Sirius had pestered him to go have some guy fun without the girls, so Harry chose gaming as the activity, knowing that Sirius had never played a video game in his life. Not having electrical wiring in Potter Manor, they had gone to a gaming arcade in London. It was on the way back that they'd passed the nun quoting that waste of paper to another woman and decided to give her some 'unholy wind'. Good times. Petty, yes, but it was far too late to be making any claims to the moral high ground anyway, not with his own dabbling in ritual murder. And on that note, it was too bad that he had needed to leave Blackrazor at home, but getting caught with it on his person would end badly.

"Harry..." Sirius was the one exasperated now.

"Do you know what the difference between the polytheistic religions and the monotheistic ones is?" Harry interrupted.

"Aside from your obvious bias?"

"Yes, aside from my obvious bias." Harry could be honest with himself and admit that he had a personal resentment towards Christianity and its counterparts. Having to listen to a lecture about how magic was an abomination in the eyes of God every time something inexplicable happened in the orphanage that he'd spent a year in could do that to a person. Doubly so since the dried up old cunt giving the lectures never did anything about the other kids picking on him and causing the instances of accidental magic in the first place. Harry prided himself on his objective reasoning, but the spite he felt for the Abrahamic religions and those who bought into them was not a character flaw he cared to try fixing.

"I haven't got a clue."

"The old, polytheistic religions were attempts to understand the world." Harry began to explain. "They had gods for everything; the rain, the earth, the sky, the sea, the stars, the rivers...everything. It may have been a _bad_ attempt at understanding the world, but it was an attempt. The monotheistic religions have the same answer for everything; 'God did it'. How was the world made? God did it. Why is the sky blue? God did it. What's up with rainbows? God did it. Why is water wet? God did it. Where did humans come from? God did it. God did everything, now stop asking questions or you'll burn in Hell forever while demons gangrape you. Granted, the more sensible Jews, Christians and Muslims can be reasoned with these days, but they clung to their ignorance like a leech to a pig's arse for as long as possible. Many of them still do and all of them are still delusional enough to believe that they merit the attention of some sort of supreme being."

"How is that different from any other religion? Just replace 'God' with whatever other deity is appropriate. And isn't every religion a bad attempt to make sense of the world?" Sirius argued, not really understanding his godson's point.

Said godson sighed in response. "There is a big difference between saying that it took a pantheon of gods to create the world and saying that everything was done by just the one. The first is trying to figure out the workings of the world, albeit from a fatally flawed base assumption. The second is declaring that there's no point in thinking about how the world works because 'God works in mysterious ways which are known only to him'. What a marvelous blanket statement to use when you don't want to admit that you're too fucking stupid to hold a thought more complex than the best efforts of a ten-year-old in your head. Plus, religions with many gods almost invariably focus on how the gods interact with each other, whereas a single, all-powerful god is depicted as a micromanaging psychopath that will sentence you to eternal damnation if you don't do what he says, but – and note the sarcasm – he loves you. The priests of polytheistic religions could only spew a limited amount of bullshit before it intruded on someone else's bullshit and they didn't try to portray their gods as nice, whereas the clergy of a monotheistic religion has an effectively unlimited bullshit license and can talk about unconditional love and fire and brimstone in the same sentence."

"Harry, you told me yourself that the Aztec priests sacrificed children, carved out people's still beating hearts, flayed people...I'd think that was a tad worse than being able to bullshit endlessly."

"Eh." Harry shrugged. "There's that fatally flawed base assumption I mentioned earlier. They had this ridiculous notion that the world would end without them doing that. Stupid and strangely arrogant to be sure, but at least it wasn't hypocritical."

"I don't know about you, but I'll take a little hypocrisy over human sacrifice any day." Sirius muttered.

Harry didn't agree. Aside from people captured from other tribes, the Aztec sacrifices had largely been willing. They'd had all the power in the world to put an end to their bloody practices, but their fear-mongering religion made them think it was necessary. Idiots dying was all to the good in his book. Plus, their rituals seemed to have actually achieved something if the high rate of magical births in the area was any clue.

"There's another reason why I like the old religions better, the biggest reason actually." He said instead. "Magic."

"What about it?" Sirius asked, puzzled.

"Magic had a place in a world with many gods. Judaism and Christianity decry all magic as evil despite the blatant use of magic by their vaunted prophets and Islam only tolerates magic done in Allah's name, hypocritical as ever. If the world still worshiped Ra, Zeus, Odin and the like, magic wouldn't have needed to be hidden."

"I'm not sure that would be a good thing." Sirius said.

"I guess we'll never know."

Yes, they would never know what it would be like if Christianity, Judaism and Islam had died ignobly as sad little cults barely meriting a mention in the history books, but Harry didn't believe that magic would stay secret for much longer. The world had too many eyes.

XXXXX

 _March 11th, Mexico City._

"I thought we were supposed to be feeling uncomfortable here." Sirius commented with furrowed brows, looking around as if he expected some wizard to jump from around a corner and curse him.

"You will." Harry said with a sort of grim amusement.

They were in front of the Mexico City Metropolitan Cathedral at the moment, the oversized church that the Spanish had built over the main temple of the Aztec city of Tenochtitlan after destroying it. The Templo Mayor, as the Spanish had called it, had been dedicated to two gods; Huitzilopochtli, the god of the Sun, war and human sacrifice and Tlaloc, the god of rain, water and fertility. There wasn't much left of the temple now, just a platform and some paving.

"You feel something?" Sirius asked with a raised eyebrow.

"The stone and earth here remember what the Aztecs did." Harry said. "It's very faint, like the memory of a memory, but I can almost hear the echo of their rituals." It was like walking on a courtyard paved with bones and feeling them crunch under your feet with every step.

"I'm not feeling anything. You sure it's not just indigestion?" Sirius tried to joke weakly.

Harry turned to his godfather with a humorless smile. "Quite sure."

Sirius shivered a bit and looked away, feeling deeply unnerved by Harry right now.

"Do you girls feel anything?" Harry asked.

Luna shook her head, but still took his hand as if looking for comfort.

Fleur on the other hand was looking around with a deep furrow in her forehead.

"I...don't know." She said uncertainly. "Maybe?"

With the temple being dedicated to a solar deity and the sacrifices being done in his name, it would figure that Fleur would have an easier time sensing it than Luna.

"Let's look around a bit more, there's still a little bit of the original temple left."

XXXXX

 _March 16th, Teotihuacan._

Teotihuacan was an interesting place, predating even the Aztecs. Nowadays it was a popular tourist destination, with admission requiring a ticket.

Selling tickets to a place where human sacrifice was once performed struck Harry as being very strange. Of course, as far as these tourists were concerned, whatever had happened here was just a historical curiousity.

Harry had a somewhat different perspective. They had spent the past few days going around Mexico City, following whatever vague impressions he was able to feel. A lot of blood had been spilled there and the echoes still lingered, but it was notoriously hard to pin anything down.

A lot of blood had been spilled here too, but this place was largely still the same as it had been centuries ago, unlike Tenochtitlan, whom the Spanish had destroyed almost entirely and then built Mexico City over. Harry was hoping it would be easier to figure out what exactly all this ritual sacrifice had achieved in a place where the original construction still stood.

All these bloody tourists could be a problem though...How was he supposed to investigate anything with people crawling all over the pyramids, snapping photos and doing other touristy things? At least it wasn't the summer tourist rush, but there were still too many for his tastes.

"You take me to such exciting places, Harry." Sirius said sourly.

Harry didn't blame his godfather for being a sourpuss, annoying as it was. He was starting to have trouble sleeping and it was making him crabby. Luna and Fleur were less affected because they slept Joined together and thus protected by Harry's magic, but even Harry himself was feeling the effects of the 'curse'. A better knowledge of what the 'curse' actualy was would hopefully mitigate the effects.

"It's exciting to me." He said with a shrug, deciding not to remind the man that he could leave at any time. Sirius still felt that he had to look out for Harry and wouldn't leave without him. "And you might enjoy sneaking around here at night more than playing tourist."

"Why would we sneak around at night?" Fleur asked curiously.

"Because we don't want to get caught by the guards." Harry replied cheekily.

Thanks to the danger that some entirely non-magical, garden variety nutjobs would try to use Teotihuacan to re-enact a ritual or two, the abandoned city was well guarded at night.

"You know what I mean." The veela growled. "Why can't we do whatever you want to do 'ere during the day?"

She wanted to get out of Mexico too.

"Too many tourists." Harry answered simply and that was the end of it.

XXXXX

 _March 21st, Teotihuacan, Temple of the Feathered Serpent._

Harry meditated on top of the smallest of Teotihuacan's three great pyramids. The building was mostly intact, save for the top, which was basically a heap of rubble. Not the best of seats, but it would do.

Getting caught up here by security, long after visiting hours were over no less, would get him into a lot of trouble. Fortunately, the guards were not equipped to deal with magic so that was not likely to happen.

These temples were odd. He could sense a very subtle, but also powerful magic attached to them, but it was maddeningly vague. The situation was compounded by the fact that it didn't feel like it had been done properly. He knew that people, often children, had been sacrificed at the four corners of these pyramids to bless them, but not all of those sacrifices had been magical.

There was no indication that any of the Mesoamerican cultures had a secret magical society in the way that Europe had had them even before the rise of the Ministries of Magic. Everything that was of magic seemed to be bundled together with their religion.

An absurd set of beliefs, that the gods sacrificed of themselves so that humans could live, and in turn requiring human sacrifice to sustain them. Absurd, but the truth was hidden in those beliefs.

The Aztecs and those who had gone before them had sacrificed to the gods that represented the world. They sacrificed to Earth and Sea and Sky, to Sun and Stars, to Moon and Night.

Harry's senses, no matter how sharply attuned, could not perceive that. It was the same as pouring a cup of water into a lake and then trying to see the difference in water level. The magic of those sacrifices blended into the background.

That was just a theory though, as he could not say with any certainty that the world even _had_ any magic of its own. It would make sense, and most academics agreed that it did, but he had no personally acquired proof of it.

He could only sense the echo of the rituals done here because the people doing those rituals hadn't had the faintest fucking idea of what they were doing.

Rituals were delicate things, as prone to outside interference as incomplete spells, but could be influenced from a far greater range. They were best done in seclusion, with preparation made to contain magical leakage beforehand.

Performing them as what amounted to a publicity stunt in front of a large, emotionally charged crowd, including more soon-to-be sacrifices, was almost the polar opposite of the safe way to perform rituals.

No wonder that magicals couldn't ever feel comfortable here. Not when the magics of the world were so tainted by fear and bloodlust and anger and dread and hate and religious zeal and who knew what else. Harry himself couldn't even go to sleep anymore without dreaming of the Sun going out and the Void swallowing the Earth,which was these days something that any idiot with two neurons to rub together knew was not going to happen any time soon, but which the Aztecs had feared as highly likely to happen every fifty-two years. That nonsensical pseudo-nightmare was interspersed with visions of rivers of blood running down stone altars and similarly visceral imagery. That little side effect had probably driven their untrained, ignorant magicals into a terrified frenzy that more sacrifice had to be offered to the gods, imprinting more fear on the world and driving future generations of magicals to even more desperate zealotry.

Positive feedback loops were such fun things.

Still, Harry was almost impressed by the rest of it. All this sacrificing to the various gods was definitely the cause of the improbably high rate of magical births happening around here. Unlike the all-powerful, all-knowing, all-present figure of the Judeo-Christian god, who was simply an abstract representation of humanity's collective daddy issues, these old gods represented natural forces and sacrificial rituals dedicated to them had a tangible impact.

Unfortunately, it was impossible to determine which rituals had achieved what aside from making educated guesses.

The interesting thing was that there weren't any swarms of magical pests floating around Mexico, and presumably Guatemala since the Mayans had been nearly as prolific in their sacrificing.

Any place with a high concentraction of magic attracted magical pests. The Hogwarts house-elves spent a considerable amount of time just keeping the castle free of them. Heavily warded houses suffered similar problems. Harry had needed to remove a boggart from Grimmauld Place just before they'd left Britain for example and according to Luna and Ginny, even the Weasley's ramshackle house attracted pests simply for the sheer amount of magic being used to keep the bloody thing standing.

More than that though, places of heavy magic concentraction had peculiar effects on plants and animals as well. A lot of magical plant and animal species were the result of deliberate action on the part of wizards and witches, but quite a few also popped up by themselves.

Magic was an agent of change. Oftentimes a mutagenic one. Tzeentch would approve.

Harry sometimes wondered what would happen if he could somehow manage to get a hundred completely mundane couples to conceive children inside Hogwarts. Magic seemed to beget more magic, so he strongly suspected that a high percentage of them would be either squibs or outright magical.

How the purebloods would howl about muggles stealing their magic if that was the case. A retarded argument, but purebloods were usually retards.

In spite of the high birth rates of magical children, Mesoamerica had neither great numbers nor variety of magical creatures however. These sacrifice obsessed Mesoamerican civilizations hadn't picked a spot like Hogwarts and enchanted it to the gills, which would saturate a place with strutctured, active magic, but had instead focused the magic back on the world itself.

The only exception were perhaps these temples where they later conducted their rituals, but even that had been dedicated to their gods to serve as places of worship and sacrifice. This particular one had been dedicated to Quetzalcoatl, God of Wind and Wisdom and a bunch of other shit, who was depicted as a feathered serpent.

Harry was meditating on top of it in an effort to divine whatever he could of the magic imbued into this temple. He had already tried this on the Pyramid of the Sun and the Pyramid of the Moon, to no particular effect, so he was not really expecting any success this time either.

The minutes trickled past as Harry meditated, trying to tease out the magic he could sense at the edges of his consciousness. It was only through long experience at clearing his mind that he didn't grow annoyed by the exercise, as the magic slipped past him like...well, like the wind actually, which would make sense given what the temple was dedicated to.

He wasn't sure how long he spent chasing the elusive feeling when an oddly musical hiss made his eyes snap open.

Then he nearly went arse over teakettle off the pyramid as he saw the winged serpent hovering right in front of his face, looking at him curiously.

Harry released an awed breath at the sight of the quetzalcoatl, not the god obviously, but the magical creature. They were as rare as phoenixes and none had been seen in centuries. They were so rare in fact that modern literature was catious about even saying whether they had _ever_ existed.

It was gloriously ostentatious. A snake the size of a man with deep green scales over its sinuous body and a paler green over the underside. It's head and forked tongue were typically serpentine, but it had many rows of fangs, much like a basilisk, and its slit eyes blazed gold even in the dark of the night. Around its neck was an almost lion-like mane of feathers in gaudy colors of red, green and a few gold. A short ways down its body grew a pair of wings that were just as gaudilly colored; short green feathers at the top, mid-sized gold ones in the middle and long red ones at the bottom.

It was easy to see why a primitive people would think this creature divine when it was so beautiful. Or perhaps it had been the other way around and it had been the blundering of ignorant magical priests that had led to its creation? He knew there was such a thing as a perfectly mundane quetzal bird and it was entirely possible that one of its eggs may have been hatched under a serpent, with some magic added to the mix, leading to this beautiful hybrid. Impossible to say which way it had been now.

The quetzalcoatl gave another curiously musical hiss, tilting its head as if wondering what was wrong with him.

" _Hello._ " Harry hissed back in Parseltongue.

Never had he been more grateful for the effort he had expended to master the ability, even though he had long thought it more or less useless. Talking to snakes wasn't really that big of a deal if you ignored the reputation that Parseltongue had, but Harry would not dismiss any magic as worthless, so he had practiced it. Now he was grateful for that, as the ability had been Voldemort's and not his. It would have been lost to him along with that piece of the bastard's soul if he had not used it enough for it to imprint on his own magic.

The quetzalcoatl reared back in surprise. " _You speak?_ "

 _"I speak._ " Harry confirmed, forgoing the sarcasm that would usually be used in response to such a superfluous question.

" _There have been no speakers here for many long seasons._ " The quetzalcoatl said almost sadly, but shook it off quickly. " _I tasted your magic on the wind, seeking. What do you seek?_ "

" _Knowledge._ " Harry answered. " _Have there been many speakers here before?_ " That would imply snake Animagi...Well, that wouldn't be _too_ farfetched. He knew that the Native Americans further north had developed the ability independently of European wizards, possibly even taken it further with Skinwalking.

" _No, I was but a hatchling when the last speaker lived. He named me Etalpalli._ "

" _Etalpalli._ " Harry repeated, trying out the word. Weird how names somehow worked in languages that they shouldn't work in, but that's why they were magical and not logical. Regardless, he'd have to look up what it meant later. " _I am Harry._ "

" _Harry._ " The quetzalcoatl repeated just he had. " _A strange name._ "

" _It is common among my people._ " Harry replied with a hissing laugh. " _To me, your name is the strange one._ "

" _It is a good name._ " Etalpalli insisted, his mane of feathers shivering.

" _I did not say it was not._ " Harry placated, not wanting the quetzalcoatl to leave over such a small thing.

Fortunately it seemed to be enough, as the winged serpent changed the subject. " _You come from across the sea?_ "

" _I do._ "

" _Tell me of the lands across the sea._ " Etalpalli said, contriving to sound simultaneously pleading and demanding. " _The winds whisper of them sometimes, but they are far away._ "

Harry had no idea how he could describe things to the quetzalcoatl in a satisfactory way, but he had a better idea anyway.

" _I intend to explore many places, you could come with me and we would see them together._ " He offered.

Etalpalli coiled closer together, giving off a distinctly thoughtful air.

" _I have never left these lands._ " He said.

" _There is a first time for everything._ " Harry shrugged.

The quetzalcoatl let out a strange hiss that Harry could only interpret as the snake version of a laugh.

" _You speak truly._ " He finally said. " _Very well, Harry, I will go with you to the lands across the sea._ "

" _We will not go right away._ " Harry warned. " _It will be several turns of the Moon yet before we leave these lands._ "

" _Perhaps I will show you these lands first then._ " Etalpalli hissed thoughtfully.

" _Excellent._ " Harry grinned widely. He had never expected to meet an actual quetzalcoatl on this trip, much less gain one as a companion. " _I must introduce you to my mates, they will love you._ "

" _Can they speak as well?_ " Etalpalli asked curiously, floating alongside him as he made his way down the pyramid.

" _No, the serpent speech is no less rare across the sea than it is here._ " Harry answered and the two of them feel into easy conversation as he led the way to the wizarding tent they were staying in.

XXXXX

While Harry was making another unorthodox acquaintance, Sirius, Luna and Fleur were plotting.

Harry may have thought that the side-effects of centuries of mass human sacrifice performed by the indigineous peoples were merely irritating, but his companions were somewhat less blasé about it.

Sirius spent most of his time as Padfoot after discovering that it helped to blunt the worst of it, but he was far from happy. It was starting to reach Azkaban levels of unpleasant, though in a different way.

Fleur was starting to feel frightened without Harry around to hold her and that was simply unacceptable to the prideful veela.

Luna showed the least amount of reaction, but that was only because she was resorting to an old coping mechanism that Harry had helped her abandon. Namely, staring blankly into space and shutting out the world.

All three agreed that today was their last day in Central America and that Harry had used up his last 'just a little longer'.

This was why they were sitting in the common room of the vastly expanded interior of the wizarding tent they had pitched a short distance outside of Teotihuacan, waiting for the source of their current misery to return.

"'Arry, we need to talk." Fleur opened up with the words that every male the world over dreaded hearing.

Except for Harry apparently. "Sure, but first I've got someone I want you to meet."

Fleur opened her mouth to say something, only for it to remain open as the most magnificent creature she'd ever seen carefully poked its head inside the tent, forked tongue tasting the air curiously.

"Everyone, meet Etalpalli. He's a quetzalcoatl." Harry said with a grin and turned to the feathered serpent.

" _Etalpalli, the two females over there are my mates, Fleur and Luna, and the male is Sirius._ " He hissed.

The quetzalcoatl slythered through the air as if it was solid ground, his wings only barely moving, and went right at Fleur.

" _This one's magic tastes of the Sun._ " He hissed, tongue flicking close to the nervous veela's skin.

"'Arry, what does it want?" She asked tremulously.

"He's just curious." Harry reassured her. "Don't worry, he won't hurt you."

Fleur swallowed and let the dangerous looking reptile/bird hybrid inspect her.

" _She is a veela._ " Harry took the opportunity to explain. " _They are creatures of the Sun._ "

" _I have never seen one like her before. The humans that lived here before your people came across the sea would have thought her a grand offering to the gods._ " Etalpalli noted, not surprising Harry in the slightest as he had figured as much himself already.

He decided not to relay that bit to Fleur though. She probably wouldn't appreciate knowing that she was prime sacrifice material.

The quetzalcoatl eventually stopped flicking his tongue at Fleur and moved on to an awestruck Luna.

Unlike Fleur, Luna had no fear whatsoever. Harry had said that his new friend wouldn't hurt them and that was that.

With this in mind, she reached a dainty hand towards the mane of feathers at the quetzalcoatl's neck and gave it a gentle scratch, alternatively ruffling and soothing the feathers.

Harry bit his lip to keep down a smile as the winged serpent briefly tensed and then leaned his head to the side to allow better access, releasing a long hiss of pleasure that once again sounded oddly musical.

"He's beautiful, Harry." Luna said with a wide smile as she continued the scratching.

"Harry." Sirius said in a strangely hollow tone of voice, finally mastering his shock at the legendary creature that Harry had apparently stumbled upon.

"Yes, Sirius?"

"We're going back north."

"But I still wanted to go see the Great Pyramid of Cholula." Harry protested.

"You can do that later, but we're spending at least a couple of weeks away from this place." Sirius said firmly.

"I second that." Fleur piped up.

"And I third it." Luna finished off.

"But..." Harry tried again and then slumped under the combined weight of their stares. He supposed it _had_ been a bit selfish to insist on staying for so long despite the effect it had on them. "Fine, but what are we going to do back in North America?"

"I'm glad you asked." Sirius said imperiously, thrusting a poster into Harry's hands. "Frank just so happens to have informed us that there's a dueling tournament taking place in Mississippi at the end of the month."

"Where the fuck is Mississippi?" Harry muttered, looking at the poster. He had no doubt that Frank had only told Sirius about this dueling tournament during one of the brief visits that the American wizard made to check up on them before fleeing back to North America _after_ Sirius had asked him about an activity he could use as an argument to leave Mexico.

"Somewhere south-west-ish of New York...I think." Sirius said unconvingly, no more educated on the geography of the United States than Harry.

"More than half of the US is technically south-west of New York." Harry said dryly. "Eh, whatever. We'll find it."

He turned back to the girls and Etalpalli and raised an eyebrow at the way they were cooing over the quetzalcoatl and rubbing all of his sweet spots. Apparently Fleur had gotten over her fear in a right hurry after seeing how Luna handled things.

" _Enjoying yourself?_ " He hissed in a deadpan.

" _Yessssss._ " Was the drawn out reply. " _I like your mates._ "

Harry continued staring at the mythical creature that was clearly also a hedonist with a deadpan look and wondered why he had ever expected something more dignified. That hadn't been very cynical of him.

XXXXX

Right on schedule, Frank dropped by the next day to check up on them. His impending visit was the reason that Sirius, Luna and Fleur had decided to gang up on Harry about leaving Central America the previous night.

He too could only stare slack-jawed at the sight of the majestic quetzalcoatl.

"What the...?" Was all he managed to say.

"His name is Etalpalli and he's decided to travel with us for a while." Harry explained with a smirk.

Frank shook off his shock and awe and managed to give a coherent reply, wincing as he did so. "Ah, that _may_ be a problem."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the man, already smelling more American bullshit coming down the line. "Why?"

"Because Magical Congress deems all native magical creatures as being under their authority. Now I don't think we've ever had a quetzalcoatl to deal with, but I doubt the bureacrats are just going to let you leave with a legendary magical creature in tow without causing some kind of trouble." Frank sighed.

"Figures." Harry grumbled.

" _Harry, what is he talking about?_ " Etalpalli hissed curiously.

" _The wizards here are under the impression that they control all magic, including magical creatures such as yourself."_ Harry explained, the contempt clear in his tone.

The quetzalcoatl reared upright like an incensed rattlesnake and hissed angrily. " _I belong to no one!_ "

" _No, you do not, but I am not strong enough to challenge their delusions openly. Do you have a means of hiding yourself?"_ Harry asked.

Etalpalli let out another irritated hiss before answering. " _Yes, I can hide. Wizards have attacked me in the past when they saw me and I could not always kill them._ "

Upon saying that, the quetzalcoatl shrunk to the size of a small garden snake, tucked his wings close to his body and dove into Harry's collar, poking his head out a moment later.

" _Like so._ " The now much smaller serpent hissed with amusement.

" _Amazing, even your wings and feathers are turned in such a way that I would never have noticed them if I didn't know where they were_." Harry hissed in admiration after getting over his surprise at the transformation. This ability combined with flight, the elusive magical presence and apparent vast sensing range through some connection with the wind would make the quetzalcoatl pretty much impossible to constrain, similarly to how the fire-based teleportation of a phoenix made _them_ impossible to constrain.

"That'll work." Frank muttered, blinking at both the transformation and the use of Parseltongue, which he hadn't known that Harry was capable of.

XXXXX

 _March 31st. Somewhere in Mississippi._

Luna hummed to herself as she made a little bubble castle while she bathed.

The buzzing of her communication mirror distracted her and the bubble castle collapsed into ruin, taking all of the bubble people living in it to a bubbly grave. It was a dark day for the bubble capital of Bubbleonia.

Luna wiped her hands and extended one towards the distant mirror in a grabbing gesture, concentrating on summoning the mirror to her hand.

It took a couple of seconds, but the world bent to her will and the mirror flew to her hand.

Luna smiled at her success. Harry would be pleased.

"Nymphadora!" She exclaimed happily when she saw who had called her. "Hello."

"Wotcher, Luna." The metamorphmagus replied. "And don't call me Nymphadora."

Luna disregarded the second sentence as she always did. Nymphadora was a beautiful name and she was silly for wanting to reject it. Nymphadora would hopefully realise that too one day.

"How are you?" She asked instead of saying that.

"Pretty good, just got off work and thought I'd check in with you guys. I called Harry first, but he didn't answer."

"Oh, yes, he's busy shagging Fleur right now." Luna explained.

She would usually participate or at least watch, but she hadn't been in the mood today. Multi-partner relationships were incredibly convenient in that regard, there was always bound to be someone up for a shag instead of it being dependent on just two people's libidos aligning and there was more variety on top of it. Why so many people seemed to think that group relationships were a bad thing escaped Luna's understanding completely.

"Right." Nymphadora said, seeming a bit nonplussed for some reason.

"Let's go see them." Luna decided.

"No, that's quite alright. I can call back later." The metamorphmagus said quickly, almost desperately.

Luna disregarded this just like she disregarded the auror's dislike of her name. Nymphadora was obviously missing getting shagged by Harry, but felt too awkward about it to do anything to restore that happy state of affairs. Luna had really been looking forward to turning her and Harry's relationship into a threesome by adding herself to it, but then they had to break up for no good reason like a couple of poopyheads.

Luna was not going to miss out on a chance to tempt Nymphadora back to them and she knew that Fleur would help her do it. The veela was keen to make it a four-way as well, having very much liked her semi-drunken tryst with Nymphadora.

She ignored Nymphadora's protestations as she got out of the tub and removed the ruins of Bubbleonia from her body with a quick wave of her wand, put on the fluffy yellow robe they'd swiped from Vegas and made for the bedroom that she, Harry and Fleur shared in the wizarding tent. These tents really were marvelously convenient.

Harry and Fleur paid no mind to her entrance, busy as they were with their rutting. The veela was on her stomach, with Harry lying on top of her, braced on his elbows with his arms hooked under her armpits and nibbling on her neck just the way that Luna knew Fleur liked. The position left Fleur quite helpless as Harry thrust into her forcefully from his dominant position.

"Poor Fleur." Luna said over the grunts and cries of pleasure, orienting the mirror so that Nymphadora could see as well. "I think her attempts to take the lead are just encouraging Harry's domination fetish."

"Sweet Merlin, he's gotten even worse." Came the mutter from the mirror.

Luna smiled. Nymphadora was watching.

"Yes, at this point I probably have no chance of making it my harem anymore." She said and shrugged philosophically. "Oh well, I guess being a harem girl instead of a harem mistress isn't so bad. Less responsibility to be sure."

With a grunt, Harry seemed to climax, bearing Fleur down on the mattress and sucking on her neck possessively while she shuddered and moaned under him.

Harry made a final few thrusts, probably to squeeze out the last of his release, and then looked up at their audience.

"Luna...and Dora." He said, his voice carefully blank. "Good afternoon."

"Hi." The witch in the mirror said dryly. "Sorry about the voyeurism, but Luna wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Don't I know it." Harry responded with wry humor. Luna was pleased by his lack of outrage at being watched. That had taken a lot of effort to ease him into. "Fleur, say hello to our audience."

The veela raised her head tiredly, face sweaty and tired but having a certain satisfaction to it that made it even more beautiful than normal.

" _Bonjour_ , Nymphadora."

"Don't call me that." The metamorphmagus huffed.

"But it is such a beautiful name." Fleur teased. Her neck was full of bite marks and hickeys.

"You should listen to Fleur, Nymphadora." Luna opined.

"Well I don't like it." Nymphadora was sounding a bit petulant to Luna's ears.

"You could just call her Dora like I do." Harry suggested.

" _Non_ , Nymphadora is better." Fleur insisted.

"How about Nymmie?" Luna added her own two cents.

"No!"

"Nym?"

"I like Dora better."

"Why?" Luna and Fleur asked simultaneously.

Nymphadora mumbled something.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Harry asked, smelling a secret no doubt.

"I said it reminds me of Dora the Explorer!" The metamorphmagus snapped, more embarrassed than angry. "I loved that cartoon as a kid."

Harry and Fleur blinked and then collapsed into laughter, finally rolling out of their sexual position and using the sheets to cover up, though Fleur left her breasts on display. That might be for Nymphadora's benefit.

"What's it about?" Luna asked curiously. Harry had introduced her to muggle television a long while ago and there seemed to be no end to the entertainment to be had there.

Once he was done laughing, Harry opened his mouth to say something.

"Don't you dare!" Nymphadora snapped and Luna could well imagine her glaring through the mirror she was holding.

"Dare what?" Harry asked innocently.

"I know what you're thinking, and I swear I will curse you into next week if you say it." Was his only explanation.

Luna was confused and sought to remedy the situation.

"What were you going to say, Harry?"

"Nothing much, I was just going to ask if she'd ever morphed herself into a little Mexican girl and called herself Dora the Sexplorer." Harry snickered.

"Oh, how clever." Luna said, smiling in realisation.

"Goodbye, childhood, you were a fond memory until the perverts tainted you." The metamorphmagus said mournfully.

"Absurd, you can't ruin something with sex." Fleur declared.

"Says the veela nympho." Nymphadora snarked back.

"Exactly. I am the expert."

"Point to Fleur." Harry refereed with a snicker.

"You guys suck." The metamorphmagus sulked.

"No, only Fleur sucks." Luna interjected. "Harry licks and I have to wait until my birthday until I can start sucking."

"Point to Luna."

"Do Fleur and I get extra points for licking?"

"Loads."

"Hurray!"

"Why are all my friends such deviants?" Nymphadora lamented.

"I seem to remember you-" Fleur started casually.

"We don't talk about that!" The auror interrupted sharply. "I was drunk."

"Of course, Nymphadora." Fleur said patronisingly.

Harry merely snickered and Luna was curious, but decided to repeat a question that she had never gotten an answer to earlier instead of prying into something that Nymphadora clearly didn't want to talk about.

"What is Dora the Explorer about?"

"It's an educational cartoon for children. I was eight when I first saw it and thought it was the best thing ever, but you probably wouldn't find it too interesting at your age." Nymphadora explained, sounding relieved by the change in subject.

"Oh, I see. Thank you."

"So, how are things back in Britain?" Harry asked, changing the subject again.

"Eh, nothing too exciting." Nymphadora said with a shrug. "Mum organised a family dinner the other day, Narcissa included. I think she was trying to force Narcissa to stop 'pretending' to be a changed woman by making her sit next to my oh-so-muggleborn dad, but it kind of backfired when she engaged him into a conversation about what kind of movies he liked and commenting that she'd like to see a few, but that Malfoy Manor had no television. He invited her over again before Mum could stop him."

"That sounds like Narcissa's MO all right." Harry snickered.

"Yeah, Mum was all set to be a cast iron bitch every step of the way through their reconciliation and it didn't take Narcissa long to figure out that working through Dad would be much easier. I never thought watching my mother give her food a confused glare would be so funny." Nymphadora snickered back. "But enough about that, what are you guys up to?"

"Nothing." Fleur huffed with a glower, crossing her arms under her bare breasts.

"Okay..." There was a brief pause before the metamorphmagus continued. "What's gotten into the French princess?"

"Sirius had the genius idea of participating in a dueling tournament." Harry started explaining, grinning in amusement. "Only, he apparently missed the part where it said that only wizards and witches of twenty-one years of age or older could sign up for it. As you can see, Fleur is a bit miffed about that."

"But you and Fleur are legal adults." Nymphadora said, frowning.

"Yes, and the Americans have to acknowledge our adult status, but the tournament specifies age rather than status. To be honest, I think they consider us weird for giving people adult status at seventeen in Europe and extra weird that I got it just shy of fifteen."

"I see." The auror said, bemused.

"Which is of course, ridiculous." Luna spoke up. "It's the Americans that are weird."

"Damn straight, regulation obssessed twats." Harry scowled.

"Not to mention the 'uge food portions. I could feel myself getting fat just looking at them." Fleur added.

"And the flags everywhere. Like seriously, _everywhere_."

"Prices without tax being included."

"Lawyer advertisements."

"Too much water in the toilet bowls."

"They're also too close to the ground."

"Don't forget the huge gaps in the doors in public stalls."

"Tipping."

"The insanely sweet bread."

"Infinite refills for soft drinks."

"Ice in every drink."

"Soda is cheaper than bottled water for some reason."

"Fruit and vegetable prices are ridiculous."

"The coffee obsession."

"The endless political campaigning."

"Alright, I get it! The Yanks are weird." Nymphadora broke in, grinning at the list of playful gripes. "So what are you guys doing while my cousin is trying to win a dueling tournament?"

"Fucking." Fleur said succintly.

"We watch the more interesting duels, but otherwise yeah, fucking." Harry agreed.

"We also take walks." Luna added cheerily. "And we talk to Etal about Britain and France."

"...Who?"

"Etalpalli is a quetzalcoatl that Harry befriended while we were in Mexico, but I like to call him Etal." Luna explained cheerfully. "He's amazing and really cute."

"Remind me what a quetzalcoatl is again?"

"A mythical feathered serpent, very rare. There hasn't been a sighting of one in well over three hundred years in fact." Harry obliged. "They were worshipped as divine by the native Mesoamerican people."

"Only you, Harry." Nymphadora said, shaking her head in exasperation. "So where is your new friend?"

"Exploring." Fleur said with her lips twitching into a smile. "'E does not care for mammalian mating rituals."

The metamorphmagus snorted at that.

XXXXX

 _April 2nd. Colorado._

Etalpalli hissed agitatedly as he and Harry apparated in.

" _What a horrible way to travel._ " He complained.

" _I told you it would be, but you insisted on coming along._ " Harry reminded him.

" _We could have flown instead_." The winged reptile insisted petulantly.

" _I cannot fly as fast as you. It would have taken me the better part of a day to make the trip as a raven._ " Harry countered. There was also a slight chance that the quetzalcoatl would have been spotted by non-magical eyes, but it was a fairly remote possibility. Like many magical creatures, Etalpalli possessed the peculiar property of slipping past the notice of mundane eyes as long they did not get the chance to stare at him for long. In his shrunken form, he could blitz through a crowded street and be waved off as a trick of the light.

The quetzalcoatl hissed out an incoherent grumble and started floating at Harry's shoulder as the young wizard made for one of the magically created and hidden nests he had made for the ravens he had recruited to be his scouts. They hadn't found any sign of skinwalkers yet, but North America was vast and he had no specific place for them to look besides 'two hundred or so kilometers in all directions', so that was hardly a surprise.

The dueling tournament in Mississippi was still underway, but Sirius had been eliminated yesterday. Having fought in a war before, he had done well for himself, but his propensity for using prank spells when he thought he could get away with it had seen him defeated against one of the more competent duelists.

Harry croaked a loud greeting in the raven speech and waited for one of the large corvids to show up.

" _They looks tasty._ " Etalpalli mused, looking at the flock of ravens that had just taken flight speculatively.

" _No eating my ravens._ " Harry scolded. " _We can steal a chicken or a turkey from a ranch or something if you're hungry._ "

" _Fine._ " The quetzalcoatl said, sounding about as pouty as a snake can get.

" _Are you jealous that I can speak to ravens as well as serpents?_ " Harry teased.

" _I am not jealous!"_ Etalpalli hissed loudly. " _Serpents are better._ "

Harry hummed noncommittally and nodded in response to that, but he wasn't sure if he agreed. The quetzalcoatl was indisputably magnificent, but on average he would have to say that birds were better than snakes.

One of the ravens finally gathered the courage to approach despite the potential predator hovering at his side and perched on his shoulder.

Harry grinned widely when he heard the raven's report.

" _What did the snack have to say to make you show your fangs?_ " Etalpalli asked curiously.

" _They found me a skinwalker._ "

XXXXX

 **So it turns out that this is being posted on Christmas, not by any design on my part but by pure coincidence.**

 **I've never had much fondness for the holiday, with its invasion of irritating family members and unwarranted cheer. Then my brother assaulted me with facts and turned me vegan, which really didn't help my overall disposition(search "Honest Christmas Advert" on YouTube if you want to see what Christmas looks like from a vegan perspective by the way. The song is kind of catchy too).**

 **Still, in the spirit of not being a complete nihilistic douche for thirty or so seconds, I thank those of you who wished me a merry Christmas and wish you one as well, especially those among you with even remotely similar opinions on the holiday as myself.**


	32. Chapter 32

**This chapter was supposed to be finished some time ago, but I had a friend staying over, so I couldn't get much writing done.**

 **All the beta cookies go to Joe Lawyer, who helped me polish the rough edges off the chapter.**

XXXXX

 _April 16th. Santa Fe, New Mexico._

Harry rolled his shoulders to get the heavy basilisk hide coat to settle properly. He hadn't worn it since the third task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but it still fit perfectly.

"You are not going without me." Fleur said in a steely tone. She was dressed in comfortable and sturdy clothing rather than the sexy type she preferred for casual wear. The knives that Harry had gifted her with were sheathed on her belt and in her boot.

Sitting nearby were Sirius and Luna, both dressed in similarly practical clothing. They shared Fleur's sentiment but were letting her say her piece instead of jumping in to agree. They too had their knives sheathed on their belts and boots.

"Fleur, we've been over this." Harry sighed in exasperation. "You can't use your wand without drawing the attention of the magical government, which is the last thing we want. Without it...well, I don't want to say that you'd be a liability, but you'd be a liability."

Fleur's nostrils flared in anger and her sky-blue eyes darkened to the color of a dark ocean, the first sign of a veela transformation. Maybe he shouldn't have said that.

"I still have my fire." She snapped, bringing up a hand to conjure a small flame. Her current emotional state made it rather more violent than she intended, but fortunately not violent enough to set anything ablaze.

"Yes, you still have your fire." Harry conceded. His own teachings had helped her attain greater mastery of the element and she could now throw it around at will instead of only when angry. "But we have no idea what the skinwalker can do and we don't know how useful that will be. And I don't want to kill him anyway."

"That is exactly the problem!" Fleur snapped again, looking as if she wanted to smack him. "You want to chase after a magic user of unknown power and ability, one who practices an art with an evil reputation, by yourself!"

"I'll be in the middle of a city and I doubt he'd attack me there." Harry scoffed.

"Then there is no 'arm in taking us with you, now is there?" Fleur retorted smugly.

Harry groaned, realising that he had just undermined his previous argument.

He tried a new argument. "None of you can fly."

"We have brooms and you can cast all the Disillusionment and Notice-Me-Not spells you want on us." Sirius piped up.

Harry threw him a short glare.

"What?" Sirius asked defensively.

"That's not going to be much use in the middle of a city, now is it? Unless you think we'll have time to get the three of you covered in all those spells before the skinwalker gets away if we have to chase him?"

"Well, we can at least stay nearby." Sirius continued to argue.

"Then what's the point of you coming in the first place?!"

"'Arry," Fleur said firmly, cutting through the brewing argument. "you 'ave spent the past two weeks flying everywhere and recruiting more and more ravens to search for this skinwalker, spending barely any time at all with us while we stayed behind and played tourist in this quaint little city."

Harry winced and rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. True, he _had_ been a bit obsessive about finding the skinwalker now that he'd gotten a whiff of him and he _had_ been a tad neglectful of his girls, but he was just _so close_.

Fleur paid no mind to his reaction and continued. "I didn't insist on coming with you to those because I knew you wanted to 'urry, but I am not staying behind while you go looking for dangerous things."

"Me neither." Luna added.

"Same here." Sirius finished off.

Harry felt a creeping sense of resignation at seeing their determined expressions. They weren't going to drop this.

"Fine." He sighed.

"I am glad you finally saw reason." Fleur smiled smugly.

"Reason my arse. Stubborn woman." Harry grumbled.

Instead of retorting, Fleur pulled him in for a kiss.

Sirius started humming to himself and inspecting his nails as the kiss dragged on for far longer than strictly necessary.

"I 'ave to be stubborn, _mon chéri_ , or else you would have nobody to keep your British stupidity in check." Fleur purred once she ended the kiss.

Before Harry could respond to that, he got jumped by Luna, who extracted an equally lengthy liplock from him.

Sirius went back to humming and inspecting his nails.

"It'll be better with all of us, you'll see." Luna chirped happily after coming up for air. "We'll find the skinwalker, you can convince him to tell you all his secrets and then we'll come back and have lots of sex."

Harry's face developed a bemused smile. He rather doubted it would be that straightforward and had no idea where Luna got her optimism from.

"I hope you're not expecting me to kiss you too." Sirius commented.

"You're breaking my heart." Harry retorted sarcastically.

"It hurts, I know, but ours is an impossible love, for even your girlishly glossy hair is unable to make you attractive to me." Sirius said theatrically.

"What if I dyed it red?"

"Piss off, Harry."

XXXXX

 _Farmington, New Mexico._

As Fleur had said, Harry had spent the past two weeks recruiting more ravens to pin down the movement patterns of the skinwalker. Given that the information he got from them was always a bit out of date, he hardly had any choice in the matter. He had started out from the edge of the San Juan National Forest in southern Colorado where the ravens that had first spotted the skinwalker nested and moved southwards into new Mexico and Arizona. More than that though, he had also been creating an increasing number of magically hidden areas for those ravens where they could hoard food and nest safely.

Over time, this would, in combination with their increased intelligence, result in a plague of ravens spreading even more thickly across the Southwestern United States that nobody seemed to be capable of halting, but that wasn't relevant at the moment.

The group apparated in amidst some trees just outside the city limits and quickly got their bearings.

" _I still hate this 'Apparation' of yours."_ Etalpalli hissed, flicking his tail in agitation.

" _So you've said, repeatedly._ " Harry replied blandly.

" _Quetzalcoatl are not meant to be yanked out of the winds like that._ " The feathered serpent mumbled mostly to himself, shrunk and promptly dove into Fleur's collar.

"'Arry." Fleur said in exasperation as the magical creature wrapped itself around her neck.

"It's not my fault if he likes the feel of your magic." Harry said with a shrug and a smile as they started walking.

" _Warm."_ Etalpalli justified shortly, wiggling against the silky smooth skin of his perch.

Fleur shivered slightly as the cool scales of the quetzalcoatl slid along her skin, but she gamely ignored the stowaway.

"So, where are we heading?" Sirius asked.

"A pub."

"The skinwalker is in a pub?" Fleur asked incredulously. That just seemed so...normal.

"The ravens spotted him shifting in the wilds north of the city two weeks ago and then tracked him to the pub. Last week, he apparated somewhere they weren't watching, but he visited the same pub the next day. He doesn't seem to live here, but if my theory is correct, he goes to that pub every week after letting loose in the wilds."

"Anything we need to watch out for?" Sirius asked, getting serious now that they were walking into potential danger.

"I don't know." Harry said blithely. "There's all sorts of stories about skinwalkers floating around, a lot of them bad, but the only ones that would be able to tell us anything for certain are the few genuinely magical Navajo medicine men left and they're not talking. Even Etal doesn't know much about them."

" _I only came this far north a few times._ " The quetzalcoatl hissed defensively.

" _I was only stating a fact, there is no need to be so prickly._ " Harry hissed back, amused.

The feathery reptile gave the snake version of a disdainful sniff and hid deeper into Fleur's collar.

"This doesn't look like a city." Luna noted as they passed a row of houses.

"It does have that suburban feel to it, doesn't it?" Sirius agreed.

"Yes, and it's probably also several times bigger than strictly necessary because of that. On the upside, at least we don't have to deal with crowds." Harry added.

That much was true. Despite being very close to what passed as the downtown area, there was no surplus of humanity clogging the streets.

"Clancy's Pub, an Irish Cantina." Sirius read aloud when they reached their destination. "I'll be damned, an actual Irish pub in New Mexico."

"Don't be too sure about that." Harry spoke up, grinning. "The ravens have been picking Mexican food and sushi out of the garbage, so whatever kind of Irish pub this is, it's probably not the type you'd find in Ireland."

Sirius worked his jaw for a moment in an attempt to respond to the strange mixture of cuisine before finally settling on a different response. "It's freaky how much you learn from those birds of yours, you know that?"

Harry merely smirked smugly at his godfather as they entered the place and took a seat. It wasn't quite noon yet and almost empty as a result. It was also painfully obvious that they didn't fit in with the few locals already present. Fleur alone generated a great deal of the customary male interest, but the basilisk hide coat that Harry was wearing was hardly inconspicuous either.

Sirius suddenly started snickering. "This place kind of reminds of this one time that James and I-"

"James and me." Harry interrupted with a smirk.

"Oh, come on!" Sirius complained. "Which one is it, me or I?"

"Depends on the situation, you just happen to use it wrong every time."

Actually, Harry had no idea if that was true or not. He'd stopped going to regular school at the age of ten after all and even the admittedly excellent tutors that Robert and Katherine had hired for him could not imprint all the minor minutia of English grammar on him in that time. For all he knew, he had it the wrong way around. That wasn't important though, what was important was to bust Sirius' balls over it. He would probably look it up one day when he remembered to do so, but would also continue to correct his godfather, even when he was right.

"I'm getting the feeling that you're just taking the piss out of me." Sirius said suspiciously.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked indignantly. "Which one of us actually attended a school that had English as a subject?"

Sirius grumbled, but had no reply. It was true that the British magical education made no provisions for anything besides magical studies. The purely wizard-raised were expected to pick up the grammatical rules of their birth tongue largely through osmosis. As one might imagine, this practice had...variable results.

A waitress chose that moment to show up and give them each a menu.

"Welcome to Clancy's. Can I get you anything to drink?" She asked with the perkiness that her job generally required.

They all ordered their drink of choice and started leafing through the menus.

"Should we order anything?" Fleur asked uncertainly, glancing around the pub surreptitiously.

"Might as well, it could be a while before he shows up. If he shows up." Harry replied with a shrug.

"What's this gluten-free stuff?" Luna asked curiously.

"That's for people with celiac disease and morons that think gluten is bad for them without knowing what it actually is." Harry explained absently, wondering if he dared give the enchilada plate with beans a try. His rune-enhanced intestine tended to produce a rather large amount of 'natural gas' over a relatively short time period in response to that kind of food. That was one price of his enhanced body that other people had to pay instead of him. Fleur had not been amused, though Luna certainly had been.

"I'm getting the sushi." Sirius announced with the air of a man about to attempt his first rail slide with a skateboard.

"Isn't that more like cat food?" Harry snorted.

"Dogs eat fish too." Sirius defended.

XXXXX

The four of them ate with deliberate slowness (five if you count the few morsels that Etalpalli demanded to try from their plates), all the better to give the skinwalker time to show up.

Their plates had still been cleared for a solid fifteen minutes already before he did so.

Harry saw him the moment he walked through the door, having positioned himself in such a way that he could see it. He was a Native American man that looked to be around Sirius' age or a few years older, though it was hard to tell for certain with magicals. Black-haired and dark-eyed, there was nothing particularly memorable about him, not his clothes and not his appearance.

At first glance not even his magic. It had the dangerous edge of a not very nice man, but that was all Harry could perceive at the moment.

The skinwalker's easy stride faltered as their eyes met and Harry took the opportunity to skim the man's surface thoughts.

No two minds were exactly the same, but this one was the most...unique, that Harry had ever touched. If he had to describe it, he would say it was like a beastiary full of pacing animals, snapping and growling suspiciously. He had only the briefest moment to interpret the mental impression before it felt as those many beasts suddenly all turned their attention to him.

Harry immediately disengaged the mental contact, but it was too late. The skinwalker was already glaring at him knowingly, before he stalked off to a table that offered him a full view of the room.

He kept a grimace off his face. _I shouldn't have done that._

" _Etal, do you have him?_ " He hissed quietly, making Fleur look at him in surprise at the sudden use of Parseltongue.

" _Yes, his magic tastes of blood."_

That was good. The quetzalcoatl could track magic better than a bloodhound could track scent. Now that he'd gotten a taste of the skinwalker's magic from up close, he'd be able to find him from halfway across the continent, or so Etal boasted.

"Come on, we're leaving." Harry said, putting enough money on the table to cover their order and to satisfy the weird American tipping custom.

XXXXX

"Why are we up here?" Sirius asked with a bored sigh.

"Because this large and tall-ish building is located conveniently just across the street from the pub." Harry answered, idly playing running a hand along Luna's back, making her humm in pleasure.

"No, I mean, why are we skulking up on this roof if you wanted to talk to the skinwalker?"

"Sirius, how would you react if you were into some shady crap and four unknown magicals showed up at your favorite watering hole?" Harry asked pointedly. Granted, Luna did not look at all threatening and Fleur wasn't exactly dangerous looking either, but that didn't mean much when magic could be used to drastically alter one's appearance and that skinwalker had been as tense as a steel cable.

"I'd be worried." Sirius admitted after a moment's thought.

"Exactly, which is why we're going to wait up here until he leaves and then I'm going to go talk to him. Alone."

"'Arry..." Fleur said warningly.

"Sorry, Fleur, but I don't want to spook him." Harry apologised. "He's already going to be suspicious and might bolt if he sees more than one person approaching him."

"And what if 'e is violent?" The veela asked pointedly.

"Unless he's a complete psychopath with absolutely no sense of self-preservation, he won't attack me in broad daylight." Harry assured her. "And if by some chance he _is_ a complete psychopath with no sense of self-preservation, then I should be able to hold him off long enough for you to come to the rescue."

Fleur's disapproving frown eventually eased up and she nodded, though she still looked unhappy about it.

They passed a good half hour in idle conversation before the raven that Harry was using as a lookout croaked out that the target had left the pub.

"Show time." Harry said, standing up and briefly stretching to get the stiffness out of his legs.

"Be careful." Fleur instructed sternly, with Luna nodding along.

"Of course."

Sirius snorted contemptously at that, recalling how reckless Harry had been in the past when he was interested in something.

Harry ignored his godfather, walked to the edge of the roof and jumped off. A slight use of magic to diminish his momentum allowed him to land safely instead of breaking his legs doing that and a previously applied Notice-Me-Not kept potential watchers from really registering it.

Except for the skinwalker, who had stopped dead at seeing him and looked visibly tense even from a distance.

Harry continued to approach the man slowly, spreading his arms slightly with open palms in the nearly universal 'I'm not looking to start trouble' gesture.

Still, it didn't seem to be enough for the skinwalker, who turned a sharp ninety degrees and started walking away with as much haste as he could without running.

Harry cursed under his breath and picked up his own pace, not wanting to let the man get away.

" _The taste of his magic has become stale, he is no longer here._ " Etalpalli hissed from inside his collar no more than two minutes later.

Harry stopped and clicked his tongue with irritation. That probably meant Apparition.

" _Looks like we're doing this the hard way._ " He hissed to his reptilian friend.

" _The prey always struggles._ "

XXXXX

 _April 17th, early morning. Hotel room in Santa Fe._

Harry had become used to waking up and receiving a truly excellent blowjob before a word was spoken. Like most any man would, he found any disruptions to this routine disagreeable, but seeing Fleur looking at him with a serious expression first thing in the morning instead of sucking his cock made him sigh.

"What is it?" He asked softly so as to not wake Luna.

"You are going to chase after the skinwalker again today."

It wasn't a question, but Harry still answered it. "Yes."

"I am going with you." Another statement.

Fortunately, Harry had predicted this situation. "Fleur, if I take you with me, Luna is going to insist on coming too and this time it might actually be dangerous."

Fleur frowned and Harry could easily guess her train of thought. Of the four of them, Luna was the least combat able without a wand. Taking her into potential danger would be incredibly stupid, but she would not be happy with them if they left her behind all alone. She wouldn't get angry at them, that wasn't Luna's way. Instead, she would just look at them with big, sad eyes that would cut deeper than any amount of angry screaming.

"Sirius and Etal will still be with me and I'll keep in touch with the mirrors." Harry assured his lover.

"And you will not do anything stupid?" Fleur asked in defeat, accepting the fact that she would not be going along for Luna's sake.

"I'll do my best." Harry said.

But Fleur did not seem satisfied with that. " _Non,_ 'Arry. I want you to promise me that you will not chase after the skinwalker at all costs. Whatever you might learn from 'im is not worth risking your life over."

Harry exhaled a little irritably. "This was always going to be dangerous, but I promise to be careful."

"You 'ad better, I 'ave invested a lot of time into you." She growled and promptly turned her back on him.

Harry blinked. "Fleur?"

A very French sounding noise of discontent was his only answer.

He carefully extricated himself from the still sleeping Luna and spooned his veela lover, nibbling gently on her ear.

"Talk to me, Fleur."

" _Non_." She sniffed, admirably composed considering the quiver he felt going through her.

"Why not?" He asked, lightly tracing his fingers over the curve of her hip.

"Becasue...you did not promise what I wanted you to." She replied, a slight hitch in her breathing betraying her arousal.

"If I made that promise then I might as well not leave the bed today." Harry said teasingly, though most of his attention was on channeling a slow trickle of magic into the nerves in the shaved skin just above her entrance.

"Would that be so bad?" She purred, bumping her rear against his crotch.

"No, but I really want to talk to that skinwalker." He murmured, sliding his finger across the moist lips of her labia, slowly circling further inward...

Fleur abruptly rolled out of the bed with a soft gasp and turned back to look down at him imperiously from her new standing position, though it was somewhat ruined by her erect nipples, heavy breathing, shaky knees and the glistening wetness between her legs.

" _Bien,_ go find 'im then. We can finish this when you return, so make sure you _do_ return." She said with her nose up in the air and strode into the bathroom with an air of regal hauteur, where Harry had no doubt she would proceed to masturbate furiously to take the edge off her arousal.

Harry knew that she was more worried than truly angry and probably blue-balling him in an effort to exert some control over the situation rather than out of spite, the silly woman. This was no doubt harder on her than it was for him, but that didn't change the fact that his lower head was already complaining, quite loudly, about the lack of attention it was getting.

The sacrifices he made for magic...

Luna mumbled something in her sleep and started snoring.

XXXXX

 _Tsaile, Arizona._

"I don't know about you, Harry, but I'm getting the distinct feeling that we're not welcome here." Sirius noted.

"Gee, what gave you that impression?" Harry asked sarcastically. "Was it the suspicious looks or the fact that we're two strange white guys with no obvious means of transport walking through an almost exclusively Native American town in the middle of the Navajo Nation?"

Calling Tsaile a town was perhaps a tad generous, but the population was _just_ high enough to merit being called a town. Barely.

"What's gotten you so crabby today?" Sirius asked, amused. "In the birdhouse with the missus?"

Harry stayed silent, causing Sirius' eyebrows to shoot upwards on his forehead. "Wait, really?"

"She wanted to come with us, but I guilt tripped her into staying with Luna." Harry finally grumbled.

"Ah, I was wondering why it was just us." Sirius nodded sagely. "You should get her something nice before we go back. Jewelry or expensive chocolate should do the trick, a few roses wouldn't hurt either."

"You know you live in a decadent consumer culture when bribery is the way to smooth over relationship trouble." Harry grumbled some more.

"You know you're an edgy teen when you complain about the consumer culture." Sirius mocked.

"You know you're a sheep when you call people edgy if they think instead of going along with the herd." Harry mocked back.

"You know you're a brat when you argue instead of heeding your wise godfather's vast experience in dealing with women."

"You know you're a fool when you claim to be wise."

"You know your balls will go purple when you'd rather be a stubborn idiot than buy some jewelry for your offended lady friend."

"You know your balls _won't_ go purple when your lady friend is of succubus descent and isn't nearly offended enough to refuse a good fucking."

Sirius exhaled noisily in exasperation. "You've got it _all_ figured out, don't you?"

"I have to have it figured out," Harry snorted. "if I didn't, then I'd have to rely on you for advice and that would be just sad."

"You grew up to be such a cunt, Harry. I'm proud of you. Lily probably wouldn't be, but I am."

"If you start tearing up on me, I swear I will punch you right in the mouth."

"Duly noted, now where in this backwater is our skinwalker?"

"A fine question." Harry said with a nod and started hissing in Parseltongue. " _Etal, can you point the way?_ "

" _Oh, are you two done snapping at each other?_ " The quetzalcoatl hissed from his collar.

" _Yes, quite done._ "

" _Truly? Because it seemed as if you were about to fight._ "

" _That is how some human males show affection for each other._ "

" _Humans make no sense._ " Etalpalli complained.

" _Etal..._ " Harry sighed in exasperaton, a truly strange sound to make in Parseltongue. " _The skinwalker?_ "

" _That way._ " The flying reptile hissed, wiggling his tail from the collar of Harry's shirt and using it to point the direction.

" _Thank you._ "

"Pretty far out of the way." Sirius commented a while later, noticing that they were moving into the outskirts of a forest.

"I suppose that's the idea." Harry mused. "We know he can apparate, so getting to a larger population center wouldn't be an issue if he needed to and living as some kind of forest hermit would serve as a good excuse for why he wasn't home if anyone actually knocks on his door."

"What makes you think he lives alone?"

"That's the assumption I'm going with until I see proof indicating otherwise."

"Right, so are we just going to walk up and knock on the door?" Sirius asked as they came within sight of the skinwalker's presumed dwelling, a log cabin of all things, though it looked to be well made. It was just far enough into the forest to be invisible from outside of it.

As it turned out, they didn't make it to the door. The skinwalker opened it, saw them and bolted deeper into the forest like a startled deer.

"Hey, wait!" Harry called out, to no avail.

" _He has apparated away again._ " Etal hissed mere moments after the skinwalker had vanished behind the trees.

"I guess he doesn't want to talk." Sirius joked, smirking at his godson's scowl.

"That's too bad, because I didn't spend all this fucking time tracking that bastard down just to give up because he's feeling skittish."

Sirius sighed to himself as they went to check the point of Apparition to see if Harry could track the destination. This was going to be trouble, he just knew it.

XXXXX

 _Phoenix, Arizona._

The skinwalker had been clever. His first Apparition had been to another stretch of forest, from which he had run into an unknown direction and apparated again to keep them from tracking him.

Without Etal, that would have been the end of their day, but the quetzalcoatl could indeed taste the skinwalker's magic on the wind from as vast a distance as he had claimed. It took a little while for the wind to bring it to him, but it inevitably did.

That was why they were now in Arizona's state capital, getting a great deal of strange looks from people due to Harry's heavy basilisk hide coat. Not so much its appearance, but because it was entirely too hot to be wearing such a heavy garment. If it wasn't for the wonderful magic of temperature control, Harry would be sweating like a pig.

"Feeling cold?" A land whale of a woman with massive sweat stains under her armpits asked jokingly as Harry and Sirius paused by a bus stop to orient themselves.

Harry ignored the question in the way that a medieval aristocrat would ignore a dirty peasant. Or the way that an annoyed wizard on a mission would ignore the fifth would-be comedian to ask that question in the past hour. The end result was more or less the same.

" _That way, he is very close now._ " Etalpalli hissed quietly so as not to be heard by anyone that shouldn't hear him.

"This way." Harry said to Sirius, jerking his head in the direction that the quetzalcoatl had indicated.

"You're leaving a trail of offended people behind you." Sirius noted with amusement as they left, having caught a glimpse of the fat woman's expression at being summarily ignored.

"Then maybe they should stop trying to be funny." Harry snarked. "Do these people honestly think they're being original?"

" _None of the humans that came into my forests were that big._ " Etalpalli hissed musingly. " _I wonder if I could swallow one whole?_ "

Harry snickered at the mental image of the quetzalcoatl flying through the air with his midsection bloated like some kind of scaly beach ball.

"They're probably just trying to make conversation." Sirius shrugged.

Harry's contemptous snort was the only response to that and they continued moving in silence into what was obviously a park. That they were getting away from the urban sprawl of the city did improve Harry's mood at least a little bit.

His mood improved further when they caught sight of the skinwalker again, sitting on a bench and apparently just enjoying the day.

"There he is." Harry said, his brows furrowed.

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked skeptically. "He doesn't look anything like the guy from yesterday."

That was certainly true. He looked more like a white guy in his fifties than a Native American in his thirties or forties, but the magic didn't lie.

As if to prove Harry's point, the man seemed to realise that they were zeroing in on him, got up and started walking away at a fast clip.

"Oh yeah, it's definitely him." Harry growled, speeding up himself and internally cursing the need to be inconspicuous. Chasing down a man at a full run was not inconspicuous in the slightest and he did not want to draw any kind of attention. Neither did the skinwalker apparently.

"Self-transfiguration?" Sirius asked.

"No, he has no spells active on him that I can see." Harry replied with a shake of his head. "If I had to guess, I'd say that our skinwalker lived up to his name, skinned a man and somehow used the skin to change his appearance."

"That's sick." Sirius said, looking more than just a bit nauseous. "Maybe we should stop trying to follow him and drop an anonymous tip to the Aurors instead?" And Sirius felt pretty damn weird being so responsible. That had been a statement worthy of Remus.

"Don't be ridiculous." Harry scoffed. "It's no different than wearing an animal skin, humans are animals too after all."

"I'd say that there's a pretty big difference between skinning a person and an animal." Sirius retorted sharply.

"That's because you're a hypocrite." Harry fired back instantly, never taking his eyes off the skinwalker walking in front of them.

"What?" Sirius spluttered.

"I said you're a hypocrite. Don't worry though, most people are in this case. Species bias, the notion that we're somehow better, more important and more valuable than other forms of life because of whatever arbitrary reason. It's virtually identical to the racial bias that is used to claim that one subset of humanity is better than another. It's also the same idiotic reasoning that purebloods use to justify their discrimination of muggleborns back home, cognitive dissonance at its finest. It's why all religions are exclusively focused on humans rather than ants for example and why hardcore vegans become misanthropic cunts as soon as they lose it, but I digress. A living being is a living being. We're all equally worthless sacks of meat; dog or cow or insect or human. The only reason you think skinning a human is somehow worse than skinning a deer is because you're human yourself. if we didn't have species bias, we would have the same psychological aversion to eating cows and pigs as we do to cannibalism and you wouldn't be making a face at the thought of man being skinned if you're fine with it happening to an animal. "

Sirius blinked once the mini lecture was over, wondering how the hells his godson's mind worked and if he had ever really understood him. Damned Ravenclaws.

"Why do you even know this stuff?" He demanded in exasperation.

"Understanding the psychology of the human mind seems a logical requirement when studying the nature of magic." Harry replied absently, picking up the pace a little more because he didn't want to lose sight of his quarry.

Sirius sighed. Damned Ravenclaws.

"So our skinwalker has no, what did you call it? Species bias?"

"Actually, it's far more likely that he's simply a garden variety cold-blooded murderer." Harry admitted.

"That makes me feel so much better." Sirius snarked sarcastically, watching the skinwalker's retreating back warily as the man ducked behind a large tree.

A moment later, Etalpalli hissed something and Harry swore viciously.

"He apparated away again?" Sirius guessed.

"Yes." Was the terse answer.

"Harry, maybe we should call it a day?" Sirius suggested. "He's obviously just going to keep running every time we try to approach him. Why not have a raven or even Etal drop him a letter or something instead of hounding him like this?"

"It won't do any good." Harry sighed. "If he's paranoid enough to run away without even bothering to learn why I want to talk to him, then he's paranoid enough to burn a letter rather than risk touching it. No, we'll chase him until he picks an isolated spot and then see if we can get close enough to actually get a word in before he runs away again."

XXXXX

It had been a long day and Harry was starting to get just a little bit peeved.

He, Sirius and Etal had chased the paranoid bastard all over the place, from cities to villages to random wilderness. The skinwalker had dodged into many a toilet stall, changing booth or bush and apparated away, forcing them to follow, much to Etalpalli's irritation.

Now they were back to where they started, the forests around the small town of Tsaile, but the sky was dark and visibility was piss poor. The entire situation would have screamed 'impending ambush' even if Harry hadn't gotten the sense that the skinwalker was feeling them out towards the end of the chase, which he had.

"Shite." Sirius cursed softly as he tripped over yer another tree root. "We're stumbling around blind here."

"You could turn into Padfoot." Harry replied absently. He was busy sweeping his eyes over the dark forest. In the gloom, the minute but ever-present glow of his eyes could be discerned.

"I was just thinking that." Sirius muttered and transformed into his canine form.

Using magic to make some light would be more convenient, but it would also be stupid since it would both expose their position and ruin what little night vision they had.

XXXXX

Unknown to the two Englishmen, they needn't have worried about exposing their position by using conjured light. The skinwalker was perfectly aware of where they were.

This forest was his home, he had spent many years exploring it and becoming part of it. he knew how to listen to the whispers of the earth and the trees that spoke of the two foreign wizards moving through it.

It wouldn't be the first time that Magical Congress sent out their people to look for any magic that wasn't under their control yet. These two were worryingly competent though. Usually they left empty-handed after attempting to investigate whatever rumor had brought them and getting only a clueless act for their efforts.

The one with the coat made from obviously magical hide had skipped that step altogether and seemed to already know what he was looking for, a problem that would have to be investigated in the future. First though, he needed to become the hunter instead of the prey.

Dressed in only a loincloth to keep his clothes from being destroyed, the skinwalker brought the wolf aspect close to the surface and began transforming.

XXXXX

It was fortunate that Etalpalli's ability to taste magic in the air was independent of the laws of physics and didn't actually require the wind to carry it to him. If not for that, they would have gotten blindsided completely.

" _He comes!_ " The quetzalcoatl hissed urgently.

Harry turned to his right, which was where Etal had previously indicated that the attack would come from. Despite being ready for it, his eyes still widened in shock at the sheer speed of the skinwalker's approach. No land animal had any business moving that fast outside of maybe the faster great cats, especially not through a forest.

His Magesight didn't actually help illuminate his assailant, being merely a magical sense that expressed itself as vision rather than real eyesight. All he saw was a tall, dark grey-ish silhuete that looked simply _wrong_ and its aura was far more savage than what he'd seen when the skinwalker was in human form.

The unexpected development sent any plans he'd had about how to do this flying out the window and it was all Harry could do to bring his hands up and form a blast of raw force to keep from being eviscerated on the spot.

It was still only barely enough to save him. Instead of the skinwalker being blasted away, it only halted his momentum and threw him off balance enough that the long claws hit him in the shoulder instead of shearing through his neck.

The tough basilisk hide did its job and kept the skin beneath from being cut open to the bone, but the force of the blow still dislocated the shoulder and sent Harry ungracefully spinning to the ground.

Padfoot had even less warning than Harry, as the skinwalker had placed himself upwind of them to prevent the dog animagus from smelling him, but he had been tense and ready and leaped into the attack the moment that his godson was sent to the ground, clamping his jaws on the extended arm.

Padfoot was a very big dog, large and strong enough to contend with a rowdy, if non-hostile, werewolf alongside Prongs. His bite was proportionately powerful as well.

The skinwalker roared in both pain and anger as the dog's teeth sank into his arm and raised his other arm, ready to shred the dog animagus.

Sirius saw this, but he was a stubborn Gryffindor and would rather take a mortal blow than allow this unexpectedly dangerous foe the opportunity to attack his vulnerable godson again.

Said godson had twisted around so that he could see what was going on as soon as he fell and prepared to fire another spell, but was beaten to it by an infuriated Etalpalli, who hadn't appreciated having his perch knocked around.

The quetzalcoatl reverted to his larger size and attacked, clamping his fangs on the biceps of the upraised arm before it could be brought down, making the skinwalker release another roar that sounded like a jarring mix between a man's scream and a wolf's snarl.

By then, Harry had summoned the focus required to cast a considerably more powerful and concentrated blast of force that sent the skinwalker flying into a tree. The sudden motion forced Etal and Padfoot to release their hold on him, which was fortunate as they would have gone with him otherwise.

The skinwalker looked dazed, but quickly shook his head and got back on his feet, only to take a stunner to the face for his troubles.

Harry panted harshly, preparing another spell, a Bone-Breaker this time, only to realise that it was over. The entire fight had lasted all of five seconds, if that, and his blood was still boiling from the massive adrenaline rush. It was an effort to calm down and let the spell go instead of hurling it at the downed skinwalker, but he was familiar enough with his own violent impulses to contain them.

For a long moment, all was silent and then Harry let out a pained chuckle that had more to do with relief than humor, though it was quickly cut off as his dislocated shoulder protested the movement.

" _Why are you laughing?!_ " Etalpalli demanded, his hiss sounding a bit...off. " _I lost a fang when you blasted him!_ "

Oh, that would explain why the hiss was a bit off.

" _Sorry._ " Harry said with a wince, climbing into a sitting position with as much grace as possible given that he had only one usable arm.

" _Sorry will not give me back my fang._ " The quetzalcoatl muttered sulkily.

Harry used a quick spell to pop his shoulder back into its socket instead of replying, grunting in pain as his abused tendons protested.

"Sirius? you dead?" He asked, looking towards his godfather.

"I saw my life flash before my eyes, but luckily it stopped during my last tumble in the sack with Rosie."

"The poor woman. Every time I think about that shapely MILF of a bartender being lonely enough to shag you, it makes me want to go comfort her." Harry said as he got back on his feet.

"Get your own MILFs, Potter." Sirius mock threatened. "You okay?"

"Shoulder is going to ache for a while, but that's all." Harry replied, conjuring a magelight and twisting around to look at the damage to his coat. There were four lines of discoloration where the claws had raked him, but the basilisk hide didn't look unduly damaged. It was strong stuff.

"What's with Etal?" Sirius asked, seeing that the quetzalcoatl was looking rather...irritable.

"He, err, lost a fang when I sent the skinwalker flying." Harry answered a bit sheepishly.

"Ah." Sirius nodded in realisation. "I have to admit, my own jaw isn't thanking you for that either, but at least I kept all my teeth."

Harry smirked and turned to the feathered serpent. _"Will your fang grow back?_ "

" _How should I know?!_ " The quetzalcoatl hissed, his crest of feathers shivering angrily. " _I have never lost a fang before!_ "

" _I am certain it will._ " Harry said confidently, lying through his teeth. He had no idea either. " _You are a quetzalcoatl after all._ "

" _I want a turkey tomorrow._ " Etal sulked, opening and closing his mouth, poking at the space where his fang used to be with his forked tongue and sounding generally inconsolable.

 _"I will get you the biggest, fattest turkey you ever saw. I will even de-feather and de-bone it for you._ " Harry promised and moved the magelight over the downed skinwalker.

"Damn he's ugly." Sirius said as they finally got a good luck at their catch. "Even Moony at his worst didn't look this bad."

There was definitely truth in that. The skinwalker _was_ ugly. The lupine snout was too short and looked like the unholy lovechild of the world's ugliest man and the world's ugliest wolf bitch. The neck looked somewhere between human and wolf as well, too thick for a man and too long for a wolf. The arms looked mostly human, but too long, as did the legs. The elbow and knee joints were human, as were the hands for the most part, but the ankles had canine joints, which gave the skinwalker an unnatural and awkward appearance, though you wouldn't know it by the way he was able to move. The claws were far too long and looked almost like bone knives jutting from the fingers. A shaggy dark grey pelt failed to cover up the human looking musculature that seemed unnaturally stretched over the nearly seven foot tall bipedal lupine body, though the hunched back made it appear shorter. The only thing that didn't look like it was stuck somewhere between wolf and man was the tail.

"Ugly, but powerful." Harry replied with a nod. "He would've torn us to pieces before we even knew what was happening if Etal hadn't warned us."

"He nearly managed it anyway."

"Quite." Harry agreed and recalled something rather important. He knelt down beside the unconscious skinwalker and carefully extracted the quetzalcoatl's fang from where it had gotten lodged in the skin. " _Etal, is your venom going to kill him?_ "

Etalpalli did the Parseltongue version of indistinct mumbling, which was pretty much just indistinct hissing.

 _"What was that?_ " Harry asked.

" _I said I have no venom!_ " The feathered serpent hissed huffily, turning away in a manner eerily reminiscent of Fleur when she got into a snit.

" _Oh._ " Harry blinked, surprised. What exactly was the point of all those fangs if he had no venom glands? Sometimes, magic made no sense.

Harry also got the distinct feeling that Etal was a bit sensitive about his lack of venom and decided to avoid the topic in the future. Heh, venom envy. Freud would no doubt have had a thing or two to say about that.

He cast a few quick healing spells on the wounds that Etal and Sirius had given the skinwalker. They weren't all that bad, certainly well within his ability to fix.

"Come on, help me move this big lump over to that tree." He said to Sirius once he was done, pocketing the fang. "Maybe he'll finally talk to me now."

They managed to move the unconscious skinwalker without difficulty, putting him in a sitting position up against a tree with his arms pulled back around the trunk, where Harry used some low level Transfiguration to move the wood around so that it bound them. Unless he was stupidly, hilariously strong, the skinwalker shouldn't be capable of breaking free.

Once everything was triple checked to make sure there would be no more surprises, Harry turned towards his godfather.

"Alright, remember to let me do the talking." He warned. "The last thing we need is him getting prissy because he has no sense of humor."

"I still think this guy is bad news." Sirius groused.

"Probably, but I'm not trying to make friends with him." Harry shrugged in an unconcerned fashion.

"Let's get this over with then."

Harry smiled wryly and ennervated his captive.

The skinwalker woke up with a jolt and tensed as if to attack, only to discover his predicament. The amber eyes flicked over to the quetzalcoatl floating at his side with no small amount of shock, but he remained silent.

Harry watched carefully for any sign of aggression and only started speaking once it was clear nothing would come of it.

"Firstly, allow me to apologise for all this." He said, waving a hand towards the tree that the human/wolf hybrid was bound to. "I only wanted to talk to you, but you didn't make it easy. Second, I've had a lot of time to think about why you might be so determined to avoid me and I can assure you that I'm not a bounty hunter or an agent of North America's Magical Congress or out to harm you in any way. I don't care what kind of magic you use or for what purpose. What I want is to learn Skinwalking and any other unique magic you might know."

Contrary to Harry's hopes, instead of calming the man down, it only seemed to make him more angry.

"Haven't you done enough damage already?" The skinwalker growled, his words barely understandable. "Your people ruined us and now you want our last secrets?"

Harry sighed in aggravation before replying. "I personally never did anything to you and to be quite blunt, I don't care about the past. What happened to your people is no more significant to me than what the Nazis did to the Jews, what the Japanese did to the Chinese, what the Turks did to the Armenians or any number of other genocides and atrocities that happened over the course of history. I was not there, I was not involved and it means nothing to me aside from its historical impact. I spent weeks tracking you down solely because you know an interesting bit of magic that I want to learn, now are you willing to bargain for that knowledge or not?"

The skinwalker was silent for nearly a full minute, eyes flicking once more to the silent quetzalcoatl, before closing his eyes and slowly shifting back to human form, losing size and fur until he was just an average sized man of Native American descent, dressed in nothing but a loincloth.

"You think you can simply buy the knowledge of my ancestors?" He asked, accusingly but less angrily than before.

Harry knew how stiff-necked and stubborn traditionalists could be and would not usually expect to achieve anything that went against their silly principles, but he was betting on Skinwalking not being a socially acceptable hobby, which would force its practicioners to be more pragmatic.

"While giving you money in exchange for magical knowledge would be convenient, I never expected it to be that easy. I was thinking more along the lines of either trading some of my own knowledge for it or doing you a favor of some kind, though if you're willing to take payment in cash or goods it would definitely simplify things. I won't share it with anyone else if that makes you feel any better."

That was a lie. He would share it with Luna, Fleur and even Dora if they wanted to learn, but there was no need to tell the skinwalker that.

"And if I refuse to share my knowledge?"

"I'm not going to kill you or try to torture it out of you if that's what you're asking. I'm not _that_ desperate or petty."

Another long silence ensued and Harry was content to wait for the skinwalker to think it over.

Etal...not so much.

" _How long are we going to stay here?_ " He complained.

 _"Already missing Luna's pampering?_ " Harry grinned.

" _No, I am merely bored._ " Etal retorted with dignity.

" _There is no shame in admitting it._ " Harry went on, still grinning. " _I will be the first to admit that I am looking forward to returning to my mates._ " Especially since he still had to demonstrate the consequences of blue-balling him to Fleur.

" _This human obsession with mating makes no sense. What is the point if you are not fertilising her eggs?_ "

" _Pleasure. Much of what humans do is in the pursuit of it._ "

" _Humans._ " And with that hissing scoff the Parseltongue conversation was ended.

The skinwalker had been observing this interaction with great interest. "You can speak to the quetzalcoatl?"

"I can speak to all serpents." Harry answered.

"Who are you?"

"Harry Potter, at your service." He replied, a slight mocking lilt entering his tone towards the end of the sentence. He was interested to note that his name elicited no spark of recognition. While not as well known outside of Britain, the story of his survival of the killing Curse had been a topic of interest in all of the magical world, which probably meant that this one didn't have much interaction with mainstream magical society. There had to be some level of interaction, as Harry was fairly certain that Apparition was a skill that had developed primarily in Europe and then been spread across the rest of the world, but he himself was living proof that you could easily learn it in ways the government didn't approve of. "And this handsome fellow is Etalpalli."

"And I'm Sirius Black." Sirius piped up, apparently unable to resist. "Sorry for nibbling on your arm, but you were kind of trying to kill us."

"I am Ahiga." The skinwalker said with a defient lift of his chin, barely even looking at Sirius. "Release me and we will see about making a bargain."

"Excellent." Harry said and moved to do so.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Sirius asked. "He _did_ try to kill us not even five minutes ago."

"I think we're past that now." Harry said dismissively and undid the wooden shackles.

"You use magic without a wand." Ahiga commented, standing up and rubbing his forearms.

"That I do." Was all Harry said in response.

For a moment, it looked as if the skinwalker would press the topic, but in the end he decided not to. "I would know why you are interested in Skinwalking before we speak any further."

"I'm interested in all magic, especially rare or unique magic." Harry shrugged. "Modern magical society may have accumulated a lot of knowledge thanks to its organisation, but all the governmental regulation that comes with it has also made things a bit stale and dull. Magic isn't supposed to be stale and dull."

"No, it is not." Ahiga said thoughtfully. "Very well, I will teach you how to Skinwalk...for a price."

Harry nodded and made a 'get on with it' gesture.

"Your knowledge of wandless magic."

Harry made an expression somewhere between a frown and a grimace. "That could be a problem. Without a wand, magic is far less uniform. It could take weeks or even months before I even figure out _how_ to teach you, much less actually teach you, and I won't be in America that long."

"And did you think that Skinwalking could be learned in an afternoon?" The skinwalker near-demanded. "There is no use in teaching you if you have no time to learn."

"I'm willing to take the risk that the time I have to learn will be enough to get me started enough that I can muddle through it myself later." Harry countered. "You can of course take the same risk with wandless magic, but don't say I didn't warn you if you end up with nothing to show for it. I'm currently teaching it to three young women and it still took me several weeks to find a teaching style for each, despite knowing them very intimately."

Ahiga once again remained quiet for a long while, obvioulsy thinking. When he spoke again, it was with the grudging tone of someone settling for something of less value. "If wandless magic is not an option then I want several things and I will not teach you until you bring them to me."

"Alright, lets hear it." Harry nodded.

"First, a high quality Re'em Blood Potion."

Sirius whistled and Harry agreed with the sentiment. Re'em Blood Potions were, obviously, made from the blood of a re'em, a magical cousin to the now extinct auroch. Whoever drank it would see their strength increase tenfold. The effect was temporary for the most part, though some of the enhanced strength was permanent if the potion was brewed skillfully enough.

Re'em blood was highly coveted and the creatures were nearing extinction due to the constant threat from poachers. The only surviving herd was actually in North America and there was an entire governmental sub-department dedicated to guarding them every second of every day, a sub-department that had carte blanché to execute trespassers on the spot. Whatever re'em blood made it to the open market went for extortionist prices.

Harry opened his mouth to say that he couldn't possibly get his hands on something like that in any kind of reasonable time frame, but then he remembered a certain albino vampire hinting at a connection to the black market.

"That...might be possible." He said slowly. "I would have to talk to someone first to see if it was feasible, but lets assume for the moment that I could get it for you."

Ahiga looked surprised by his answer and Harry could sense his aura shifting from dismissive to interested. He had a feeling that the skinwalker had just been humoring him up to this point, but was now going to see how much he could get out of him.

"Two hundred thousand dollars in cash."

"I didn't bring that much with me from Britain." Harry said with a frown. The money itself meant nothing to him and he wouldn't have hesitated to pay twice as much, not that he was going to tell the skinwalker that. "I'd have to jump back to get it, but other than that it isn't a problem."

It was fortunate that most people considered trans-continental Apparition to be extremely dangerous and didn't think to guard against it. It could be done safely, if you knew how to compensate for the curvature of the planet, the position of the Sun and if you didn't get caught up in the mindset of distance being important.

Ahiga nodded in acknowledgement before moving on to his next item. "A feather from your magnificent quetzalcoatl."

" _What?_ " Etal hissed, the mention of his species drawing his attention again.

"That isn't mine to give." Harry said, frowning again. That feather could be used for any number of things, ranging from potions to foci to simple decoration. Didn't Native Americans have a thing for feathers? Of course, it could also be used to harm Etal, but he wasn't getting that vibe from Ahiga.

"Please convey my request to Etalpalli then." The skinwalker said politely, not knowing that the quetzalcoatl could understand him just fine.

" _Harry, what request?_ " Etal asked impatiently.

 _"He is apparently so impressed by you that he would like to have one of your feathers._ " Harry explained.

The feathered serpent preened vainly. " _What does he want it for?_ "

" _I will ask._ " Harry said, pleased to have an excuse for doing so. "He wants to know what you want it for."

This time it was Ahiga who frowned. "What do you know of my people's beliefs?"

"Barely anything." Harry admitted. He had done a little research, but it was almost exclusively focused on the skinwalker legends.

Ahiga nodded, apparently expecting that. "It would take some time to explain and I suspect you are not truly interested, but suffice to say that feathers hold great meaning to us, especially those of magical creatures."

Ah, so decoration it was. Harry couldn't help but feel like that was a terrible waste of a powerful magical reagent. He certainly wasn't planning to keep Etal's fang as a memento. Of course the skinwalker could be lying...his aura didn't have the shifty feel of a liar, but he couldn't be certain of that without physical contact.

In the end it still wasn't his decision whether to give a feather or not.

Etalpalli had been listening and after much thought, came to a decision. His wings shivered until a single golden feather detached itself and began drifting to the ground. An inexplicable wind carried it over to the patiently waiting skinwalker, who gently took hold of it and ran his finger over it with a look of wonder on his face.

"Thank you." Ahiga said, bowing deeply to the quetzalcoatl, unknowingly sending the mythical creature's already large ego to new heights.

"Will that be enough?" Harry asked. He was willing to go to considerable lengths to learn Skinwalking, but not to the point that he would let him list demands for the rest of the night.

"Almost." Ahiga said. "I also want you to teach me the serpent speech."

"That likely isn't possible." Harry said, shaking his head. "I inherited it from one of my ancestors, but it usually requires a snake Animagus form to learn. It _could_ be possible, depending on how your Skinwalking works, but don't hold your breath on it."

A small lie, but it was better than explaining the truth.

"I see." Ahiga frowned thoughtfully. "I will see about acquiring a snake skin for myself before you return."

"If that's all...?" Harry prompted.

Oddly enough, Ahiga began to look awkward and even...embarrassed?

"There is _one_ more thing I would like." He said shiftily.

"What?" Harry asked warily, wondering what he could possibly ask for that was worth getting embarrassed over.

"...Amortentia."

Harry blinked. Well, that was unexpected. Better than quite a few alternatives, but still unexpected. Not particularly difficult to acquire fortunately. While a banned potion in the Americas, Ophelia could surely get some for him if he had interpreted her hint about black market connections correctly. Alternatively, he could also brew it in Britain and bring it here.

"What do you want that for?" Sirius piped up again, his tone heavy with suspicion.

"Sirius." Harry said warningly before anything more could be said. "Don't ask questions that you don't want the answers to."

"But, Harry-" His godfather protested.

"No buts, for all we care he's going to use it to water his plants." Harry cut him off.

Of course, he knew what had Sirius so bent out of shape. There weren't a whole lot of uses for Amortentia, certainly not in gardening. British magical law might be hilariously lax in regards to the substance, but anyone with more brains than a dung beetle could see that it was entirely unethical. A witch or wizard would eventually fight off the effects, but a person with no magic of their own, which was the more likely target of Ahiga's attention, would remain under its effects forever unless the antidote was administered to them. There were lesser love potions out there, with effects ranging from mild to severe, but Amortentia was in a class of its own.

An insidious, immoral things, but Harry was quite familiar with insidious, immoral things. Narcissa came to mind, as did Dora, Bryanna and Tiana. It wasn't exactly the same situation since Narcissa had been a stone cold bitch in desperate need of an attitude adjustment and he hadn't really been aware of what he was doing with the others, but he wouldn't make excuses for himself.

He ignored the disapproval radiating from Sirius.

"Most of that should be easy enough, including the Amortentia." Harry said. "Would you be willing to accept a substitute for the Re'em Blood Potion if it turns out that I can't get it though?"

"Perhaps." Ahiga said noncommittally. "Find out first if you can, we will discuss it further if you cannot."

 _Making sure I don't go for the substitue first, hm? Clever bastard._

XXXXX

 _Late at night. Streets of Santa Fe._

Sirius Black was not a happy wizard. This unhappiness was due entirely to his godson. More specifically, to his worry about Harry's actions. He could ignore a lot of things out of love for James and Lily's son, but a line had to be drawn somewhere.

Harry seemed indifferent to all the blatant indications that the skinwalker they'd been chasing, Ahiga, was an evil man and that was worrisome. Sirius didn't want to see his godson lose sight of the difference between 'interesting' and 'evil ' in his pursuit of magic and knowledge. That he didn't seem to care if his actions ended up causing harm to people was not a good sign.

"If you brood any harder you'll summon up a storm cloud." Harry's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Best just jump into the issue then. Gryffindors charge forward and all that.

"How could you agree to get him Amortentia? You know what he's going to use it for."

"What it's meant to be used for no doubt." The younger wizard said with an uncaring shrug.

"Harry..." Sirius growled.

"What, Sirius? You want me to care about someone I don't know? There's billions of women on this planet and a lot of them suffer things far worse than being potioned to fall in love with someone. He didn't strike me as a sadist or a rapist at least if that makes you feel any better."

It didn't.

"That's not an excuse."

"No, it isn't. I'm just pointing out that you seem remarkably concerned over the fate of this one hypothetical woman over all the others."

"I'm worried about you, Harry! I'm worried because you don't seem to care that you agreed to help that, that... _man_ turn some poor woman into his love slave."

"Why should I care? It doesn't affect me or anyone I care about in the slightest."

"You can't just-" Sirius spluttered, genuinely shocked by this coldness. He'd known that Harry wasn't the most sentimental of people, but this?

"Tell me something, Sirius, how many halfbloods in Britain do you think are the result of some lonely, socially inept witch or wizard slipping some Amortentia to a muggle that caught their eye?"

The abrupt question derailed Sirius' train of thought quite effectively. Now that he thought about it, with the way things were in Britain that number could be pretty high...

But he wasn't going to be distracted!

"That doesn't justify-"

"I'm not trying to justify anything, I'm trying to make a point." Harry cut him off again.

"And what point is that?" Sirius asked sarcastically.

"The point that you didn't even think of that before now. It didn't matter to you until _I_ was tangentially connected to it. You were Lord Black, you could have lobbied for stricter controls to be placed against the use of compulsion spells and potions on muggles, but you went 'ewwww, politics!' and started looking for your next shag. You're a wizard of above average power, you could go fight against injustice like a bloody comic book superhero, but it never even occured to you outside of fighting Voldemort and his band of bitches. You know why that was? Because it didn't affect your life, just like me helping Ahiga get his hands on some Amortentia doesn't affect it. Either dedicate your life to a crusade against all the evils perpetrated by people against other people all over the world that has absolutely nothing to do with you or stop bitching about this one thing which also has nothing to do with you, but be fucking consistent."

By Merlin, why did arguing with Harry have to be so bloody frustrating?

"I just don't want you turning evil on me, okay!" He nearly yelled, lowering his voice when it echoed across the empty streets.

Harry looked amused. Amused!

"Don't worry about that. At worst, I'll occasionally facilitate minor evil with my indifference. Actively being evil sounds much too exhausting, just like being actively good. For a given value of good and evil."

"You could be just a little more good." Sirius grumbled, slumping in defeat. "At least to spare your poor godfather from getting grey hairs worrying how you'll turn out in the future."

Harry grinned arrogantly and spread his arms in a grand gesture. "Gaze upon me and see the most honest face of mankind."

Sirius snorted. Damned edgy teens.

Sirius was still not happy about how today had turned out. He still thought that it would have been better if Harry wasn't so hellbent on learning new magic that he was willing to allow other people to be hurt by his actions. He wasn't happy at all, but he was at least assured that his godson wasn't going evil, he was just a lot more indifferent than Sirius had thought he was. He wished that Harry wasn't so cold, but Sirius knew that wishing for something wouldn't make it happen.

"Wait a second, I totally forgot to ask how you're even planning to get the Amortentia and Re'em Blood Potion in the first place."

"Funny that you should mention that. I suppose I _should_ tell you about... _them._ "

"Tell me about who?" Sirius asked, a feeling of dread growing in his heart. What else was Harry mixed up in?

"Well, it all goes back to that Christmas party that Adrastia took me to..."

XXXXX

 **This was actually supposed to be the final chapter set in America, but things got a lot more stretched out than expected.**

 **On the plus side, barring any strange moods on my part or unforeseen events, that does mean that the next one will take me much less time to write.**


	33. Chapter 33

**Many thanks go to Joe Lawyer for his help in giving the chapter a good shine.**

XXXXX

 _April 18th, after sundown._ _The Nest, New York._

"Nice place." Sirius muttered somewhat sarcastically, looking over the gloomy front side of the building.

"Wait until you see the inside of it." Harry replied wryly.

"Looking forward to it."

"Can we get this over with already?" Fleur said snippily, not looking forward to another meeting with the vampire.

Harry could have pointed out that she didn't have to come along, but that would be dumb. Even though she had practically pounced on him after he'd come back from the skinwalker finding mission the previous day, Fleur was still less than pleased at being left behind.

So he simply nodded and wrapped his arm around her waist as they entered the supremely cliché vampire-run club.

"I see what you meant about the inside." Sirius said as soon as they did, looking a little weirded out by the decor.

Well, it _was_ rather over the top.

" _There is a fell whisper in the air._ " Etal hissed from his collar at the same time.

" _Ophelia's spell._ " Harry replied shortly. " _We should see her soon._ "

They reached the bar quickly and as Harry had expected, Ophelia glided into view from the other side almost immediately, looking as blatantly vampiric as ever.

"So you return to me. I was hoping you would." She said in her charateristically soft voice.

Harry was unprepared for for Etal's reaction. The quetzalcoatl clenched around his shoulders almost painfully tight and hissed loudly enough to be heard even over the music.

" _What is that?! It shines darker than the night!._ " He hissed in the Parseltongue version of a scream, the normally slight musical tone of it discordant and grating on the ear.

" _That would be Ophelia._ " Harry explained patiently, trying to ignore the hypertense serpent.

" _It does not belong! Kill it with fire!_ "

" _Kill it with-_ " Harry repeated incredulously. " _You want me to start throwing fire around? Here?_ "

" _YES! Kill it, kill it, kill it!_ "

" _Will you calm down?_ " Harry hissed, both literally and figuratively. " _She will not harm us and you are drawing attention._ "

" _It does not belong._ " Etal insisted, sulking at the reprimand.

" _I understand, but I cannot destroy her for that alone._ "

Etal said nothing, merely made a sound of disdain and jumped ship, nestling himself in Fleur's collar.

Ophelia had waited out this interaction with an immovable patience and only spoke once it was clear that it was over. "Is all well?"

"Don't worry, Etal just has some nargles." Luna chimed.

"Most unfortunate." Ophelia said, as if that actually made perfect sense. "I see you have brought your the last of your party. Be welcome, Sirius Black."

Harry felt the magic in the air react again just as it had the last time they were here and he frowned slightly. It seemed to be connected to a person's self-identity. Some kind of login system?

"A pleasure to meet you, Ophelia." Sirius replied suavely.

Harry wanted to close his eyes in despair. The dumbass was flirting with her. Of course, that was just Sirius being Sirius, but you'd think he'd know better. Harry supposed it had been naivé of him to think that his godfather would restrain himself simply because Ophelia was a blood sucking creature of the night.

"The pleasure is all mine." Ophelia purred back softly, the magic permeating the club reaching out towards Sirius like a mother's embrace.

"Enough." Harry said, flaring his own aura and breaking the spell before it could turn his godfather into a willing bloodbag or something equally demeaning. "I thought we had an understanding about that?"

"We do, but I do not refuse those who come to me." The pale vampire said with an angelic smile.

"Did I miss something?" Sirius asked, looking quite bewildered.

"I'll tell you about it later." Harry sighed and turned towards the vampire again. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Certainly." She said with a smile. "Will you walk into my parlor?"

"Said the spider to the fly." Fleur muttered, glaring suspiciously at the vampire.

But Ophelia only smiled invitingly in response to the hostility and beckoned them to follow.

It was only as they were ascending the stairs that someone spoke, that someone being Sirius. He leaned over to whisper into Harry's ear, though his eyes remained glued to Ophelia's – admittedly damned fine – leather clad arse as it flexed with every stair she climbed.

"What kind of understanding do you have with her?" He asked. "And why are Fleur and Etal so tense?"

"There's a spell of some kind active on the building that influences everyone inside it, kind of reminds me of a bee hive actually, with Ophelia being the queen. The understanding is that she wouldn't use it on us, but she took your flirting as an invitation." Harry explained in a low murmur.

"Oh." Sirius said lamely. He'd just flirted because that was what he did. That it might be dangerous had never crossed his mind.

"As for Fleur and Etal...well, they just don't like vampires."

Ophelia led them into the same dimly lit room as last time and settled herself into the same armchair in the same straight-backed posture.

"So, how goes the hunt for the skinwalker?" She asked, once they were all seated.

"We found him." Harry admitted.

"Hm." Was her unsurprised response. "I should like to meet him myself one night."

"He's not very sociable."

"A pity. Now, what do you need?"

"Amortentia and Re'em Blood Potion." He said bluntly.

Instead of showing surprise, Ophelia merely smiled widely enough to show her fangs, apparently very amused. "My my, how interesting."

"So, can you help me get those?" Harry prompted when she didn't say anything more.

"Perhaps." The pale vampire said lightly, still smiling. "The Amortentia is easy enough, but the Re'em Blood Potion is not."

"So you can't get it?" He asked, disappointed.

"I didn't say that." She countered. "We have some re'em blood available, but it is currently reserved for someone else. If I diverted it for your use, I would be inconveniencing several people. I can do it though, for a price."

"What kind of price?" Harry asked, unsurprised. He'd figured that he would need to do something for her.

"You will return here three nights hence, at one in the morning on the 22nd, alone."

"Are you going to have Harry put his penis in your vagina?" Luna asked innocently.

The unexpected question neatly derailed Fleur's rising temper at the thought of Harry going off to do something dangerous by himself again while she was left behind. Harry and Sirius were just plain surprised.

Ophelia remained unruffled however. "No, child. A vampire's body is largely numb to such pleasures."

"Well that takes the shine off immortality for me." Sirius joked.

Ophelia smiled slighty and turned back to Harry. "Remember; three nights, at one in the morning. If you are not here at the appointed time, I will take it to mean that you find my terms unacceptable."

"And what will we be doing?" Harry asked.

"Nothing too strenuous." The vampire assured.

"Yes, but what _is_ this not strenuous thing?" He pressed, a bit annoyed by the evasions.

"You will have to wait and see, but it will not place you in undue danger, that much I can assure you." She said, not budging in the slightest.

"Fine, why alone then?"

"Because I have no interest in your companions."

"'Arry, I think you should cut your losses." Fleur whispered into his ear after a few seconds in silence.

" _Listen to your mate._ " Etal hissed from the veela's collar. " _No good can come of dealing with this creature._ "

He was definitely thinking about doing just that. Asking him to show up alone and for some unspecified purpose because she was only interested in him was rather more ominous than he was comfortable with.

But something was not quite adding up. She had to know that he would tell Fleur, Luna and even Sirius about whatever they did anyway, so that couldn't be the reason she was being so mysterious. It could be because of Etal's adverse reaction to her, but there was no way to be sure and Harry doubted she would answer if he asked.

"I'll think about it." He said at long last.

"By all means." Ophelia replied without concern, either convinced that he would show up or not caring either way.

XXXXX

"You're not going, right?" Sirius asked as soon as they were back at the hotel.

"I haven't decided yet." Harry prevaricated.

"'Arry, it is too dangerous." Fleur said, worried.

"I don't think she's out to hurt me." He replied with a thoughtful frown, still going over the conversation for clues.

"What do you think she's out to do then?" Luna asked curiously.

That was the rub, wasn't it? Harry had no idea what Ophelia was out to achieve by setting such a suspicious set of conditions. Most likely it was another test of some sort, but he couldn't be sure.

" _Etal, why do you dislike her so much?_ " He asked the quetzalcoatl, hoping to get some clarification.

" _It does not belong._ " The feathered serpent answered.

" _Yes, you mentioned that, but what does it mean?_ "

" _There is a cold void where the wind should move. It has no place in the world._ "

Ah, so the quetzalcoatl was freaked out by the vampire's non-presence. His eyes were telling him that Ophelia was there, but his other senses were telling him that she _couldn't_ be there.

Etal wasn't really wrong though. Vampires _were_ unnatural, in ways that even the most ridiculous magical creature wasn't. In ways similar to the dementors.

"Please tell me you aren't seriously thinking of going?" Fleur's voice broke into his thoughts.

Harry rubbed a hand over his jaw and sighed. He _was_ thinking of going. He didn't want all that effort to track down a skinwalker to be in vain and he was also curious as to what Ophelia wanted.

XXXXX

Three days later, just before one in the morning, Harry found himself approaching the vampire-owned nightclub again, alone.

In the end, he had decided to come, too curious and too greedy for the skinwalker's knowledge to cut his losses as Fleur had suggested.

Fleur had not been happy about that, first demanding that he not go, then threatening, attempting delays with seduction and finally pleading when all else failed. Most of the past three days had been spent assuring her that he would be alright.

Sirius and Etal had also been of the opinion that he shouldn't go. In fact, Harry had come upon Sirius attempting to communicate a plan to Etal where he would follow along on a broom while the quetzalcoatl guided him.

Harry had stolen the man's broom and hidden it just in case he actually tried it. He did the same to Fleur and Luna's brooms as well just for the sake of being thorough.

Luna was really the only one that didn't protest him going, but he suspected that was simply because she was Luna. She did give him a hug and ask him to hurry back though, which had somehow managed to make his insides squirm just as uncomfortably as Fleur discarding her usual pride out of worry for him had.

Relationships were such a clusterfuck of _feelings_ , but it was nice to be cared about. He'd have to do something nice for them once this was over.

Harry blinked as he set foot inside the nightclub again. The last two visits had been done much earlier in the night, not too long after sundown actually. Now that it was just before one in the morning, the patrons were quite...different.

For one thing, the music was far more lively even if it did still carry a certain broodiness to it. For another, whereas before most of the people had been only slightly strange, it was now full of weirdoes that looked like they'd just come from the set of a cheesy vampire movie. The sheer amount of cliché being displayed was probably threatening to destabilise the space-time continuum due to the cringe factor alone.

 _Alright, maybe that's a bit harsh._ Harry admitted to himself. _But if the sprinklers start spraying blood I might just take Etal's suggestion about killing it with fire._

There were also considerably more magicals present. He counted well over a dozen auras from full witches and wizards and half as many squibs.

The spell that lingered over the club felt different too, more active and powerful and Harry began to suspect that it was some kind of self-reinforcing feedback loop. The wizards and witches here besotted with their pale mistress and feeding that attitude into the spell with their uncontrolled auras, in turn affecting everyone inside it, including themselves. If he was right about this – and Harry was almost sure that he was – then it was a damned clever way of entrapping people without being obvious about it, doubly so since the cheesy vampire theme and popular perception of vampire groupies would camouflage what was really happening.

Getting to the bar was also much harder than it had been the last two times, and it wasn't just because there were more people clogging the place at this hour. Harry wasn't sure whether it was the basilisk hide coat or something else, but he was attracting far too much attention for his comfort. Finally though, he managed to push his way past a group of handsy women whose primary garment was electrical tape over their nipples.

As she had the previous two times, Ophelia made an appearance almost immediately and Harry was by now convinced that she had probably known of his arrival the moment that he'd stepped into the building.

"Harry." She greeted and Harry noticed that she was a good bit taller tonight. Must be wearing high heels. "You are just in time. Would you care for a drink?"

"No thanks. I'd rather we get right to it, whatever 'it' is."

"Hm, very well."

Ophelia didn't do anything obvious that Harry could discern, but another vampire glided in to replace her at the bar as soon as she stepped out of it.

This one was also a woman, but as dark as Ophelia was pale. Black hair with black eyes and ebony skin, wearing a revealing leather vest and tight leather pants that Harry was starting to suspect passed for a uniform around here.

"Take good care of the Nest while we are gone." Ophelia instructed the new arrival in that peculiar soft tone that still managed to carry over all the other sound around them.

"Mistress." The dark vampire acknowledged, her voice deeper and throatier but still easily heard. Too easily to be natural. That one word confirmed Harry's guess that she was Ophelia's progeny.

To Harry's surprise, Ophelia grabbed his arm and started leading him away. His first impulse was to pull his hand away, but her grip was like an iron manacle and he was left with little choice but to walk with her or be dragged along like a small child.

The clubbers moved out of the way like a herd of sheep, giving Ophelia, any by extension him, an open path, but not without reaching out to touch her longingly as if she was the last drink of water in a desert and looking nearly rapturous if she so much as smiled at them. It was honestly rather nauseating to watch and Harry felt very much the outsider surrounded by fanatical cultists, not an altogether comfortable sensation.

Ophelia did not lead him upstairs to her office as he had half-expected, but to a back exit that he hadn't noticed before. She let go of his arm as soon as they were away from the crowd and Harry wasted no time in putting some distance between them.

"My apologies for grabbing you like that." She said softly as they walked through an empty hallway. "I did not wish to lose you back there."

"It's fine." Harry said grudgingly. He could easily imagine the zombies back in the club cutting him off from here if they were left any room to do it, but he still hadn't appreciated the grab. "Where are we going?"

"We are already here." The vampire said with a fanged smile, pushing open a heavy metal door with deceptive ease and gesturing for him to enter.

"A...garage?" Harry asked with a surprised blink.

Of all the things he'd expected to see, this was definitely not on the list. The room was probably magically expanded, but other than that it was the kind of space you'd expect to see a mechanic have, full of tools and assorted junk that was as alien to Harry as a magical laboratory would be to the average person.

In the center of the room stood a motorcycle. Harry had little interest in the things, despite Sirius' attempts to convince him of their coolness, but even he could tell that it was well cared for and probably very expensive. Unlike Sirius' bike though, this one was not as heavily magically modified. The frame and tires were enchanted for increased durability, the exhaust was muffled to decrease the noise level and there was a powerful Notice-Me-Not weaved around the whole thing that he figured was meant to make it impossible to identify the rider or plates and generally discourage people from taking interest in it, but other than that it was pretty vanilla. From a magical perspective anyway, he didn't have the foggiest notion about any mechanical alterations made to it.

"Motorcycles have been a hobby of mine since they were invented." Ophelia admitted, running a hand along the fuel tank.

"That's...interesting," And it was, because really, how often do you come across an albino vampire bike enthusiast/mechanic? "but why did you bring me here?"

"Because we are going for a ride." The vampire said with more honest cheer than he had ever heard from her.

"Excuse me?" Harry deadpanned, wondering when exactly the world had stopped making sense.

"Unless of course you've decided that you no longer want the Re'em Blood Potion and the Amortentia?" Ophelia asked pointedly.

Harry sighed. He didn't really want to play along with these games, but he _did_ want those potions. "Fine."

"Excellent." She said, grabbing a leather biker jacket. "Here, put this on and leave your coat here."

"Why?" Harry asked suspiciously, feeling rather protective of his hideously expensive basilisk hide coat.

"For your safety." Ophelia explained gently and handed him a pair of gloves as well. "The coat may get caught on the back tire. I am the only one that comes here, so you needn't worry about theft."

Unable to refute that argument and unwilling to give up the promised potions over such a relatively small matter, Harry did as she said, however reluctantly. The jacket and gloves fit him well. Suspiciously well in fact.

"Got these just for me, did you?" He grunted as he had put them on. "And where are we going anyway?"

"You will see." Was her unhelpful answer, accompanied by an empty duffel bag being thrown at him. "Could you please shrink that and put it in your pocket?"

"Are we picking something up?" Harry continued to question as he did so, frowning in thought as he tried to figure out what it could be at this hour, and why it would require his presence.

"In a manner of speaking." She replied, unhelpful as ever. Then she swung herself onto the motorcycle and patted the spot behind her. "Come and join me."

With another sigh, he did so, settling himself awkwardly behind her while she used a remote to open the garage exit.

"Hold on tight." Ophelia said and kick-started the bike.

A vampire's aura was cold and dark and impenetrable at all times, giving Harry no clues about Ophelia's current mood or feelings even when he was touching her, but something in her voice caused a sudden dread to bloom in his heart and he quickly pressed himself up against her back and wrapped his hands around her middle.

XXXXX

Harry had never considered himself to be afraid of speed. A broom at top speed merely exhilirated him, even if he did find them to be a bit ridiculous. Even freefalling didn't frighten him, Slowfall was a rather simple spell to cast after all.

So it came as a bit of a surprise to him that he found himself clinging to Ophelia like a limpet while the albino vampire raced through the streets of New York like a damned lunatic. By all rights, the thrumm of the bike's powerful engine between his legs and the wind whipping past his face should have been just as exhilirating as a high speed broom or a freefall, but it was not so.

Maybe it was the fact that the sky was generally free of impedients whereas the streets were not, or maybe it was the fact that he wasn't in control. Either way, Harry was resorting to Occlumency in order to stay calm.

While in the forced calm of an Occlumency trance, Harry noticed several things.

The first was that Ophelia didn't seem to need any protection for her eyes despite their speed and that she could apparently process information fast enough to prevent problems associated with tunnel vision.

The second was that she had a heartbeat.

Harry had long suspected that vampires were not actually undead. Necromancy was a finicky field of magic and to the best of his knowledge, nobody had as of yet managed to raise a corpse with anything past the most rudimentary intelligence.

But she was not alive in the same sense as a human would be either. Though her heart still beat, the blood it pumped through her body was freezing cold, leeched of all warmth by the Dark that sat at the core of her nature. That was probably why she could drive a bike at high speed through the night wearing only a corset that left her arms and shoulders bare, whereas Harry knew that his hands would be freezing if not for the gloves she'd tossed him earlier.

These ponderings were a welcome distraction from the knowledge that he probably wasn't sturdy enough to survive if she fucked up and crashed them into something at the speed they were going. Harry had to restrain himself from seeming too eager to be off the bike as soon she they stopped.

Taking a deep breath, he frowned as he caught a whiff of salty sea air. "Are we at the harbor?"

"Almost." Ophelia answered with a smile. "Would you please use a spell to discourage bike thieves?"

With a silent nod, Harry did so, making the bike seem terribly uninteresting to anyone that might see it.

"Thank you." She said and made a beckoning gesture. "Come now, there is work to be done."

"What kind of work?" He asked, walking in step with her.

"As you have surmised, there is something we must retrieve."

"What?"

"You will see."

Harry scowled slightly, annoyed by all the pointless cloak and dagger. Still, he said nothing more and instead wondered how she was managing to walk in those high-heeled boots without making any noise. Creepy.

"Here we are." Ophelia said softly a few minutes later.

Harry wondered what the hell they were doing in what was clearly an industrial scale cargo dock. Well they were obviously going to steal something that didn't belong to them, that was a given, but what?

As it turned out, he got his answer.

"Can you perform a Locator Spell?" Ophelia asked with a gentle smile that nevertheless had a certain challenge to it.

Harry nearly scoffed. That was kiddie stuff.

"Do you have a focus?" He asked instead. Unless the caster was personally familiar with the sought after item, something was required to use as a starting point.

"Check the left inside pocket of your jacket."

Harry raised an eyebrow and did so, pulling out a small plastic bag filled with a white powder and staring at it in some surprise. He somehow doubted this was sugar...

Still, he had to ask, if for no other reason than because knowing the name of the object made the spell perform better. "What is it?

"Cocaine."

"You're into drug trafficking?" That just seemed so...mundane an activity for a vampire to be doing.

"Problem?"

Harry took a moment to seriously consider the question. He'd never given drugs much thought, considering them to be the purview of the stupid. Truth be told, he didn't understand why governments didn't just legalise everything and let natural selection take over. They could tax it, the smarter people would stay away just as they were doing now and the dumb ones would self-destruct, also just as they were doing now. There was literally no downside.

"No, not really." He finally said.

Ophelia merely smiled in response and gestured for him to perform the Locator Spell.

"Over there." Harry said once it was done, gesturing in the direction from which he'd felt something resonate with the small sample he held.

"Can you dim the lights?" Ophelia asked, once again smiling that irritating smile.

A harder proposition but well within Harry's ability. The trick was not to mess with the electronics, but rather to snuff out the luminosity of the lights. They still worked fine, but the light they cast was essentially shortened to a useless range.

"Impressive." Ophelia purred as they heard the exclamations of the night shift dock workers as the lights were snuffed out one by one. "Come."

"Notice-Me-Not Charms just in case?" Harry asked, not willing to trust the darkness alone.

"Use them on yourself if you wish." Ophelia said, walking in the direction that he had previously indicated.

Harry quickly cast the spell on himself and went after her, noting with fascination that Ophelia seemed to just sink into the deep shadows created by the lack of illumination. With the albino vampire's snow-white hair and marble skin, she should have still been quite visible, but the darkness appeared to cling to her as if it was a living thing. As it was, Harry could only tell where she was because he could sense the supernatural Dark of her aura, and even that was only a general location.

It wasn't long before he lost track of her completely, which was a bit nerve wracking, but Harry didn't let himself be unduly bothered by it and simply moved towards the cargo container that had the drugs in it instead of whispering the vampire's name like some clueless twit looking for his mother.

He was just casting a silencing spell on the seals of the cargo container when she showed up again, sort of.

"This one then?" Her voice whispered out of the darkness.

"Yes, and you can stop the theatrics now." Harry grumbled at the crimson eyes peeking out of the shadows.

"Spoil a lady's fun." The darkness slipped away from the pale vampire's form like water, revealing an amused smirk on her bloodstained lips.

"Had yourself a little snack, did you?" Harry asked rhetorically.

"Mmm, vegetarian." She answered anyway, licking the blood from her lips. "Such a rare find in a place like this."

"Congratulations, now can we get this over with?." He said sarcastically and started unsealing the container.

"Certainly."

"That one." Harry said once they were inside, pointing at a particular crate from which he could feel something resonating with the cocaine sample he'd used as a focus.

"That's a lot of drugs." Harry muttered a few minutes later. He'd already needed to cast a quick and dirty expansion charm on the duffel bag so that they could fit all of it inside.

"Indeed, someone is going to be very angry when they find them missing." Ophelia replied, clearly amused.

Yes, Harry imagined they would be. "How did you even know this would be here?"

"Oh, I have my ways."

XXXXX

After they'd left the cargo dock with a shrunken bag of drugs in tow, Harry had expected that they would return to her nightclub.

Not so. The second motorcycle ride from Hell ended in an unremarkable alley that had not a single thing of note in it.

"What are we doing here?" He asked, looking around in confusion.

Ophelia smiled at him and removed a manhole cover that he hadn't paid any attention to, gesturing for him to climb down into the sewer.

"You've got to be kidding me." Harry deadpanned.

"Not at all."

"You are unbearably cliché, I hope you realise that."

"I do."

With a sigh, Harry descended into the sewer, glad that his basilisk hide boots were waterproof and that magic would easily get rid of any filth. Ophelia followed immediately after, replacing the manhole cover as she climbed down.

Harry took only a moment to summon a floating magelight before letting his thoughts on the situation be known. "All the possibilities that magic allows, the nigh infinite variety of ways you could use to hide your ill-gotten gains, yet here we are, slogging through a sewer like a couple of level four noobs on a quest to kill a bunch of sentient slime monsters terrorising the townspeople. There had better not be any fucking sentient slime monsters down here."

"No slime monsters." Ophelia promised, openly amused by his rant. "We might run into the odd alligator though."

"Better than a shit eating otyugh I suppose."

They spent the next five or so minutes walking in silence, with the worst encounter being a rat the size of a rabbit. Harry had long since given up on figuring out how Ophelia navigated the place.

"Here we are." The vampire said, stopping before a blank wall that was exactly the same as every other bit of wall they'd passed so far.

Except for the blood seal on it. It was the first bit of magic he'd seen used by the vampires so far that would be easily detectable with wand-cast detection spell. Of course, some witch or wizard would have to actually be willing to slog through the sewers to be capable of casting such a detection spell on this particular stretch of wall. Harry could not imagine that happening.

Ophelia didn't seem bothered by his lack of answer and pricked a finger on a fang and smeared a few drops of dark blood on a particular brick. As expected, the bricks opened up, revealing a room that was much too large for the space it occupied.

"Nice setup you've got here." Harry commented, looking over the large collection of no doubt contraband material.

There was an entire wall dedicated to magical substances, every last one of them no doubt heavily regulated by the local magical government. Another section had already finished potions still another magic items, both cursed and otherwise.

The final part was perhaps the most surprising, filled as it was with racks of modern mundane weaponry. Looks like Ophelia might be dabbling in the arms trade as well as drugs.

"Thank you." Said vampire said. "The bag?"

Harry nodded, unshrinking the duffel bag and handing it to her, but most of his attention remained focused on the guns.

He'd considered getting one for himself since before they'd come to notoriously gun happy USA, but had never gotten around to it. Sure, magical shields could easily block even large caliber bullets and automatic weapons fire without any noteworthy strain, but magical shielding had one crippling weakness when faced with firearms.

Bullets were much faster than spells, meaning that you had to know you were about to be shot if you wanted to defend yourself with magic.

"Would you like one?" Ophelia asked as she glided over to his side, gesturing at the collections of guns.

"I was thinking about it?" Harry admitted.

"Pick something then and consider it a gift in remembrance of this night."

 _Well that wasn't creepy at all._ Harry thought to himself sarcastically, but looked over the guns again anyway, this time considering which one he should take.

The submachine guns looked tempting, but he was wary of them. Playing around with a fully-automatic weapon without ever having held a firearm before seemed...unwise.

"How about one of those?" He said eventually, gesturing towards a series of black handguns.

"A Beretta, 92FS series." Ophelia said with an approving nod. "Not the most powerful of handguns, but solid and reliable. A good choice all around."

"I wonder how much I could improve it with magic." Harry mused, turning the gun over in his hands after Ophelia handed it to him.

"Quite a bit no doubt, but remember that the mechanism that chambers new rounds is recoil operated and will not work if you use magic to eliminate it."

"Ah." Harry said a bit lamely. That had been his very first idea.

"Would you like a quick lesson on gun safety?" Ophelia asked with a smile.

"That would probably be for the best, yes."

XXXXX

The third motorcycle ride from Hell saw them pulling back into her private garage, for which Harry was thankful. He was more than ready for the night to be over.

He quickly took off the gloves and loaned jacket and put the basilisk hide coat back on.

Ophelia meanwhile, had retrieved two potion vials from a cabinet, one a bubbling dark red and the other having a pearly sheen.

"Re'em Blood Potion and Amortentia, as promised." She said, handing over the vials.

"Thank you." Harry said, pocketing them. He was vaguely tempted to drink the Re'em Blood Potion himself, but not badly. His strength was in knowledge, not in muscle.

"Now the only thing left to do, is to complete your payment for services rendered." The pale vampire whispered, parting her lips in a show of fangs.

"I was wondering when you'd mention that." Harry sighed, rolled up his sleeve and presented his wrist to her. "Just don't take too much, hm?"

"Not to worry, I won't." She said in that same hypnotic whisper and, to his great discomfort, ignored his offered wrist and stepped forward into his personal space.

"What are you doing?" He asked warily, backing up.

"The best blood is close to the heart." She replied, advancing again.

"I'm not really comfortable with that." Harry said, freezing when he bumped into a wall.

There was a moment of horrible realisation as it dawned on him that he had let his guard down and was now trapped between a wall and a creature that phsysically outclassed him to a hilarious degree.

Slightly panicked, he tried to apparate out, but an arm with the strength of a troll went around his waist and squeezed the air out of him, disrupting his focus. At the same time, her other arm grabbed the back of his head and pulled it to the side, fully exposing his neck.

"There is no need to fear. Just relax and release your sorrows to me." She cooed into his ear, pressing herself up against him more fully.

Unable to suck any air into his lungs with the way his diaphragm was being compressed, Harry inanely realised that she had probably worn such high heels tonight with the express purpose of being closer in height to him. And then the fangs sank into his neck and there was no more thinking.

He wheezed out what little air he had left at the minor pain and tried to push her off, but it was useless. She was much too strong.

His magic wasn't responding either. Instead of the tightly controlled power, it felt more like a river rushing towards an endless black abyss that would just keep drinking it in until there was nothing left. The sound of a throat working to swallow thundered in his ears, but it wasn't right, too deep and too loud and getting slower with every mouthful, until it seemed to take an eternity to finish the act of swallowing.

Harry felt himself falling into the peaceful darkness, oddly reminded of his close call with the dementor back at the start of his third year in Hogwarts. It was nice.

And then it was abruptly over and he found himself with his cheek resting on a pair of breasts that felt wonderfully cool and equally cool fingers combing through his hair. Harry sighed contently, simply enjoying the mothering.

Realisation struck like a hammer. He didn't have a mother. His mother was long dead.

Harry tore himself out of the gentle, cold embrace with unncessary violence and took a graceless spill across the floor as the lowered blood pressure made him feel dizzy and lightheaded.

"You should give yourself some time to adjust." Ophelia's voice advised gently.

Harry looked back at her, noting that she had apparently turned them around at some point so that she was the one leaning against the wall.

"What..." He started, unsure of what he was even trying to say. His heart ached with unaccustomed emotional pain at the sight of her.

His hopes of having loving parents, biological or otherwise, already battered by the Dursleys and the orphanage, had been crushed on his eight birthday, when he'd received the final proof that Robert and Katherine didn't care about him as a person, but as a piece of the image they were trying to project. The disappointment had stopped hurting a long time ago, but now whatever Ophelia had done to him had ripped the scars from that old wound.

"What did you do to me?" He demanded, suddenly furious.

"I tried to comfort you, to take away your pain." She answered gently.

But the gentle tones only made him more angry. He remembered all too clearly the legion of zombies and their sick devotion back in the club.

"I don't need your _comfort_." He spat out, getting back on his feet and ignoring the spots in his vision.

"As you wish."

Harry wasn't listening anymore. He was grinding the heel of his palm into his eyes and trying to center himself enough to enter an Occlumency trance. He needed wrap up all this pointless pain and shove it deep down, where it could be dealth with later. This was no place to suddenly start grieving for things that no longer mattered.

"I am returning to the bar should you need me." Ophelia continued. "For what it is worth, I am sorry. I was only trying to help."

Harry was grateful for the fact that she at least knew better than to approach him. He wasn't sure if he could have stopped himself from taking a swing at her if she did, no matter how idiotic getting into a physical confrontation with a vampire was. His emotional control was thoroughly shot and he wasn't feeling very rational right now, which just made him even more angry.

XXXXX

When Harry made it back to the hotel that they had been staying in for the past few days, he had regained some semblance of his usual composure, but he was exhausted in ways that had nothing to do with his body.

Seeing Etal curled up in an armchair, air whistling musically through his nostrils as he breathed, made him crack a smile. Seeing Fleur sitting on the couch was less welcome though. He'd been hoping she would be asleep.

"I told you not to wait for me." He sighed, taking his coat off and hanging it up.

Fleur's displeased expression broke at the exhaustion in his voice and she quickly approached to stare him in the face.

"What's wrong? What did that _thing_ do to you, 'Arry?" She asked in alarm.

Harry rubbed a hand over his face before answering. "I'm fine, just...tired. Can we postpone any talking until tomorrow and just go to bed?"

He hadn't meant to sound so plaintive, but at least it did the trick as Fleur simply nodded, gave him a quick kiss and led him to the bedroom.

Luna was already asleep and didn't wake as they joined her. If Fleur noticed that he held her a bit more tightly than normal, then she didn't say anything.

XXXXX

 _April 25th_. _Unknown location._

Ophelia made her way through the dark corridor without hurry. She would no doubt be the last to arrive as she always was, but her peers were well used to that given the long years of their partnership.

Upon reaching her destination, she gave a nod to Bjomolf, her old friend.

"You are late, as always." Chided the man next to him, a thoroughly unremarkable man with brown hair. Neither handsome nor ugly and dressed in clothing that didn't merit a second look, he was the type of man that needed no spells to remain unnoticed.

"And you point out the obvious, Baranar, as always." Ophelia replied to her counterpart in South America, the second oldest vampire alive after Bjomolf.

"Must we do this every time?" The only other woman present sighed gustily. She looked very young and could not have been more than seventeen when she was Turned, over six hundred years ago. She was also very beautiful, with golden-brown skin, shining black hair held in a long braid and mysterious dark eyes accented with Egyptian style eyeshadow. An Egyptian style white dress with a diaphanous blue cloak and a wesekh collar around her throat completed the image of Ancient Egypt. Fitting, as that was the area she controlled, along with the rest of Africa.

"Of course we must, sweet 'Neferu'." Baranar snickered, doing another thing that was common on these get-togethers.

Baranar would mock Neferu for the pretense of being from the time of the Ancient Egyptian pharaohs which she used to offset the initial appearance of youth and make herself seem more mysterious, even implying that her name was made up. He was probably right, but that didn't mean much since Ophelia doubted that anyone save Bjomolf still used the name they had been born with. She certainly didn't.

Neferu sneered at him silently with her fangs bared and then turned away as if he was beneath her.

The two of them had sniped at each other for centuries until all the jibes and insults had worn away to nothing, leaving behind only this tiresome, empty ritual.

"We should proceed." A Chinese man with a white-grey goatee on his chin and equally white-grey hair gathered in a top knot on his head spoke quietly. He was Tao, or so he said, the vampire master over Asia. Despite his aged appearance, he was actually the youngest of them, for a given value of young.

"Yes." Bjomolf affirmed, the ancient Viking's word enough to put an end to the delays.

Silently, all five approached the large basin in the middle of the room and took up the prepared knife. In unison, they opened their wrists and held them over the basin until it was sufficiently filled with a mixture of vampire blood.

Once it was done, they took up the prepared chalices and reached into the basin to fill them.

With a final few glances at each other, they drank.

Ophelia didn't grimace, no matter how disgusting the cold blood of vampires was to drink. They had done this so many times that none of them bothered to grimace any more.

No matter how distasteful this ritual was, it was necessary to reinforce the mystical binding that chained them to a common purpose. Without the chains forged of shared blood, there was too much room for deception and backstabbing and they no longer had the luxury of indulging in those games.

"Ophelia, what news on Potter?" Bjomolf said once they were done drinking.

"He is a creature of deep thought and cold logic, he did not flinch away from any of my tests, but I overreached. I tried to make him one of mine and failed. He will be more distrustful now." Ophelia admitted without prevarication.

Bjomolf uttered no condemnation even though he had warned her away from attempting what she had. The old Viking was too practical to waste time saying 'I told you so'. "Enough to be our enemy?"

"I don't think so, but interacting with him in the future will be difficult."

"What does it matter?" Baranar cut in. "With the way that events have been accelerating recently, any help he could give us would be minimal at best."

Bjomolf remained silent for a few moments before nodding. "True, our original timetable was vastly in error and our plans will need to be enacted much sooner than originally predicted, but that makes keeping an eye on Potter all the more important."

"Your theory that he is a prophesied chamption?" Tao asked, stroking his long goatee.

"I sent one of mine to take a look into the British Department of Mysteries." Bjomolf said. "There is an active prophecy in play regarding him and a Dark Lord."

"Riddle?" Ophelia speculated. "The circumstances of his supposed death were always suspect."

"Him or another, it makes little difference." Bjomolf said.

"True, fate's champions are always troublesome people with the way events seem to bend around them until their task is done." Ophelia nodded in agreement.

"Even if he is one, I don't see what difference it makes." Baranar argued. "What's coming is too vast to be stopped by anything short of a god."

"The question is not if he will stop it, but if he will ruin our plans. Remember that for all our preparations, our survival also hangs in the balance. Powerful sorcerers make their own reality and the coming chaos will not take him."

"We could try killing him." Baranar suggested, but only because someone had to do it rather than because he thought it was really a good idea.

"Too risky." Ophelia shook her head. "Even if he were not a prophesied champion, the chance of failure is too great, and so are the consequences."

They stayed silent for a long minute before Bjomolf spoke again.

"Tell me of his companions."

"Sirius Black is a boy at heart and loves his godson dearly, but he is short-sighted, impulsive and childish. A wizard of little consequence. Fleur Delacour has the standard veela traits; pride, vanity, passion, but she seems more intelligent than most. Her nature drives her to dislike vampires on instinct, but she is held deep in the sway of Potter's power and will not easily go against him. Luna lovegood is a strange creature, unburdened by the usual human foibles and possessing an outlook that combines innocence and wisdom. Like Delacour, she is deep in Potter's power, but I suspect it would make little difference even if she wasn't."

"And the quetzalcoatl?" Bjomolf prompted.

"It hated me on sight."

"That could be a problem." Tao noted.

"Unlikely." Ophelia disagreed. "Had they met sooner, it may have been, but Potter has gazed deeply into the Black Abyss and been changed for it. I am uncertain if he even realises how much of himself he has lost in his dabbling. He is more like us than he knows."

Another lengthy silence followed as they each thought this over. Like before, it was Bjomolf who broke it.

"He will return to Europe soon, but given his learning of Hindi, modern Arabic and Ancient Egyptian, as well as others, he still intends to travel to India and Egypt at the very least."

"Nothing from South America?" Baranar said mockingly. "I think I'm insulted."

"If he comes to Egypt, I will keep a close eye on him." Neferu voved, speaking up for the first time and treating Baranar as if he didn't exist at the same time. "He will not awaken the last remnant of the Long War."

"Perhaps...you should let him find it instead?" Bjomolf said thoughtfully.

Neferu looked at him as if he was insane. "Are you mad? My bloodline has kept watch over Egypt for more than twenty-seven centuries and our sacrifices have been many-fold. Now you want me to abandon my duty at the very end?"

"The best thing about prophesied champions is that you can throw your enemies in their way and be assured that the results will be spectacular." Bjomolf chuckled. "If we are truly fortunate, then Potter will be the last man standing with all those he cares about slain and we can honestly say that we had no hand in it. With his women dead, he will have that much less reason to struggle."

Ophelia was not the only one to nod approvingly at that. It was a good plan.

XXXXX

 _May 3rd. Forest on the outskirts of Tsaile, Arizona._

Harry shifted uncomfortably as the blood from the skin of the freshly killed coyote trickled down his body. Learning Skinwalking also required taking a lot of baths.

"To take the form of an animal, you must reconcile with its spirit." Ahiga lectured. "It will be hostile at first, not least because you were the one who killed it, and you will have to battle it for control. Only once you have subdued it completely and given it a place within yourself will you no longer need the skin itself to change."

"Are there any side effects to doing that?" Harry asked warily.

"Some." Ahiga admitted. "You will always feel an echo of an animal's instinct once they become part of you. It is for this reason that you must not do this with more than one animal of each type, as the effects are cumulative. Even then, predators will make you aggressive and prey will make you a coward if you take in too many."

"That's good to know." Harry muttered. "Now, how do I actually find this coyote's spirit?" He had easily breezed through the preparatory instructions, his assumption that he had already learned much of it on his own proving correct, but this part eluded him so far. "I can't feel anything."

"The spirit lingers in the body –and thus in the pelt – for a time." The skinchanger said. "Reach out with your own spirit and you will find it."

Harry tried, but this was a different kettle of fish than trying to sense magic. The coyote was magically inert as far as he could feel, particularly since it was dead. For fifteen minutes he meditated with a bloody coyote pelt draped over him and tried to sense something, anything, but got nothing and sighed in exasperation at the itchy feeling of blood drying on his body.

"Perhaps white men are incapable of learning." Ahiga said with a shrug.

Harry scoffed. Ahiga was actually pretty racist and as a result thought that his people were something special, the idiot.

"Does this apply to human skins too?" he asked instead of contradicting his current teacher. Telling racists that they were wrong never worked anyway.

"Human skins are slightly different. For one, the spirits of humans are more complex and diverse than those of animals. For another, you are human yourself and do not need to subdue the instincts of the previous owner of the skin. The more familiar the skin of the one you took, the easier it will be to take their shape. A close friend or lover of the same gender would be easiest, while a complete stranger of the opposing gender would be the hardest."

"What about the skins of magical animals and humans?"

"I have never had the opportunity to try on the skin of a wizard, but magical animals are dangerous to attempt Skinwalking with. Their spirits are much stronger and the fight they put up greater. A skinwalker may easily find himself overcome if the creature whose skin he took is too powerful. I would not have dared to wear the skin of the Serpent King like you do for example."

Harry was a bit startled by that. He'd never considered that his basilisk hide coat might be used for Skinwalking. Of course, it had been such a long time since the creature's death now that it was unlikely to work even if he _did_ try, but recalling the monstrous basilisk did make him think that trying to force its spirit into submission would probably be unwise even if that weren't the case.

Trying it with a wizard though... was probably still a bad idea, but something to keep in mind.

Harry shelved it under 'if I absolutely need to impersonate someone and Polyjuice isn't an option' and got back to work on trying to find the coyote's spirit.

XXXXX

 _May , Puebla, Mexico._

The Great Pyramid of Cholula was the largest pyramid in the world by quite a large margin, at least by volume if not by height. Harry had wanted to visit it after he was done with Teotihuacan, but with Sirius and the girls getting more than a bit edgy in Mexico, he'd needed to postpone his visit until now.

His lessons with Ahiga were still ongoing, but didn't happen every day or even every other day, so there was plenty of time and his girls were appeased by a promise that their stay in Mexico would be short.

The pyramid was originally dedicated to Quetzalcoatl and the locals had taken to performing a ritual dedicated to the god on the site every year during the Spring Equinox, though there were no sacrifices obviously. There had been one just two months ago actually, mere days after they had left Mexico. Etal had been a bit sulky about missing out on an event that was technically dedicated to his kind, though he had observed it once in the past without understanding what all the silly humans dancing about was supposed to mean.

The temple had also been considered sacred to several other gods over the course of its existence, most recently to the Goddess of the Nine Rains just prior to the arrival of the Spanish.

Amusingly enough, Cortés and his posse never learned that there was an actual temple there, because the pyramid had long since been covered in greenery and they mistook it for a hill, though they had still slapped a church on it, simply because putting churches on top of hills was all the rage back then. The giant structure was only discovered to be a pyramid and not a natural hill in 1910 when a mental asylum was being built a bit too close and they hit upon the bricks.

But Harry wasn't here because of amusing historical anecdotes, he was here because of the human sacrifice.

The magic of the place was in many ways even more subtle than it had been in Teotihuacan, possibly because the pyramid was covered in dirt and plants, but Etal was able to help him somewhat this time.

XXXXX

 _May 20th. Great Pyramid of Cholula._

"Ladies, are you ready?" Harry asked, grinning enthusiastically.

"If it will get us away from here, I am ready for just about anything." Fleur said with a huff.

"Ready, Harry." Luna said with a smile.

" _Etal, are you ready?_ " he hissed at the quetzalcoatl.

" _Yes._ " The feathered serpent hissed back, just as eager.

"Alright, let's do this then." Harry said and extended both his hands to Luna and Fleur with the palms up.

With one last look of hesitation, they each grabbed one and used the knives in their hands to cut them open.

Harry clenched his teeth against the pain and waited.

Both girls quickly dragged the knives across one of their own palms before they could chicken out and then held out their bloodied hands.

The three of them clasped hands so that the blood mingled and Harry initiated a variation of the Joining, the Spell Meld.

"Alright, I have you." He whispered, feeling their magic touching his own. While anyone could perform a basic Blood Linking for the purposes of simple communal magics, it took a certain level of skill in manipulating one's own magic and trust between participants to create a true Spell Meld. Not that most people today would know about Blood Linking since it was deemed illegal. "Just relax now and let me do everything."

He felt their acquiescence before he ever heard their words of acknowledgement.

" _Etal, we are ready._ " He hissed to the waiting quetzalcoatl.

" _Good._ " Etal said and took off, full sized.

As it turned out, Etal had a much better feel for the magics imbued into the pyramid because they had been at least tangentially dedicated to his kind. With his help, Harry was going to see if he could tap into those magics.

The quetzalcoatl flew circles around the pyramid, far faster than any bird, and with every pass the winds started picking up as the dormant magic was roused.

Once the air was practically sparking with the riled up magic, Etal dove for Harry and wrapped himself around his neck.

Immediately, Harry reached out for it with his own magic, backed by Luna's and Fleur's, using Etal as a sort of catalyst so that he didn't have to fight against the ancient and wild power that had been deposited there through human sacrifice.

Harry didn't even notice as his breaths deepened, all his focus dedicated to shaping the magic that now bubbled in the skies around the pyramid. It almost seemed to have a mind of its own, closely linked to wind and rain and the natural world as a whole.

He definitely did notice when a thunderstorm started forming out of nowhere though and he knew then that attempting to control it was a lost cause even with his girls' magic to bolster his own.

Having dabbled in lightning generation himself, Harry knew that it was a most problematic force to control, but directing it was much easier.

Having no real time to think as he felt the violent discharge building, he directed it at the most obvious place. The church at the top of the pyramid.

Immediately, a great spear of lightning stabbed down from the clouds and blasted the roof off the church.

The Spell Meld broke and Harry blanched at what he'd inadvertently done. Then he started laughing.

"That was fun." Luna said before frowning at her bloodied palm. "But I'd rather not cut himself to do it again."

"Harry, what the fuck was that?" Sirius ran up to them and demanded from where he'd been standing and observing.

Harry was still laughing, but managed to answer anyway. "It was a bit more than I could handle."

"Why is that so funny though." Fleur asked in exasperation.

"Because, that church has been struck by lightning several times in the past, just not recently." He answered, still chuckling, though it quickly cut off when he heard the shouts of the local police equestrian unit that protected the place.

"Err, we might want to get out of here just in case that registered on any sensors back in New York." He said, quickly going for the tent so that they could make tracks out of here.

"Hawaii?" Sirius suggested hopefully.

"Hawaii sounds good actually."

XXXXX

 _July 5th. Malfoy Manor._

"Mother?"

Narcissa looked up from her book at her son's call.

"What is it, Draco?"

"I have something important to tell you."

Draco certainly did look excited and Narcissa wondered if she would finally learn what had had him so anxious for the past couple of days since his return from Hogwarts. At first she'd assumed he was simply nervous about the results of his OWL examinations, but it was far too soon for him to have received word on that.

"I went to the Ministry a few days ago and arranged to be emancipated. You're looking at the new Lord Malfoy."

 _Oh._ Narcissa thought to herself faintly, too surprised to even correct him about his use of a noble title that the Malfoys didn't have.

"That's...great." She said, forcing a smile. In truth, she had been dreading the day he turned seventeen and reached his majority, but this had blindsided her completely. She knew that by 'arranged' he probably meant 'promised a bribe to someone', but that was simply business as usual. No, what had her worried was...

"It is, isn't it? Now you don't have to... _associate_ with Potter anymore."

...that.

A year ago, this would have been great news to her. It certainly would have spared her a great deal of worry in the wake of Lucius' death. Surely Draco would have provided for his mother, even if she wasn't a Malfoy any longer?

But even the most corrupt Ministry official would have hesitated to emancipate a minor that hadn't even taken his OWLs yet, especially with the memory of Lucius' demise so fresh in their minds, leaving her no choice but to go looking for a patron.

That she would find unlooked for happiness and fulfillment as Harry's social planner and mistress was an unexpected stroke of good fortune for her.

Now her darling, misguided son wanted to 'save' her. She had never told him that she liked things the way they were, knowing of his hatred for all things Harry Potter, but events had now come to a head.

And Narcissa did like things as they were right now, liked them very much indeed. She had a job that she was good at, the prestige of being attached to the new rising star of the wizarding world, a sex life far more exciting than anything Lucius or the frankly mediocre lovers she'd taken while married to him had ever managed and was even well on her way towards rebuilding her relationship with Andromeda. Most of Britain's noble witches didn't have it anywhere near this good.

"We shouldn't be too hasty, Draco." She said delicately, trying to find a way to tell her son that she didn't want to stop associating with Harry that wouldn't result in a blow-up.

"Hasty?!" He exclaimed in disbelief, staring at her as if she was mad. "You've had to spend a year providing for us already, but I have access to the Malfoy fortune now. You don't have to put up with that disgusting halfblood humiliating you anymore."

What a mess. Draco loved her and wanted to do right by her, which was sweet, but also problematic.

"I'm just saying that you've only just been emancipated." Narcissa tried again. "You still have two years of schooling to get through before you can properly take over for your father and it wouldn't do to overstep yourself."

She was stalling and she knew it, but what else was there to do? In truth, Narcissa was very quietly panicking at the fork in the road she could see coming.

Draco was her son and she loved him, would do almost anything for him, but Harry was... _Harry_.

He was the lord of her House, powerful, ruthless and cunning like the Blacks of old and she desperately wanted to stay by his side. The thought of never again seeing him smile at her in approval as she completed a task he'd assigned her, never again hearing him sigh in pleasure as she took him into her mouth, never again feeling him spill his seed into her...well that was simply not something she wanted to contemplate.

What would become of her if she did as Draco asked and turned her back on her lord? Harry could still ruin her reputation by casting her out of the Black family if he wished. Even if he didn't, Narcissa was well aware that the currently high regard she enjoyed in society was not because of her own merit but because of her association to him. Take that away and what was left? Nothing to do, no one to talk to except for her son...since she wasn't even a Malfoy any longer, she would be reduced to being a permanent guest in Draco's home, doomed to walk aimlessly through the opulent manor, sighing in boredom and quite possibly developing a drinking habit. And when Draco had _actual_ guests over, she would either have to hide away like some kind of house-elf or endure the snide comments from insipid little bitches looking to make themselves feel important by sniping at her or worse, the attention of wizards who thought she was part of the entertainment.

"I was thinking of dropping out of Hogwarts." Draco admitted.

"You can't!" Narcissa exclaimed urgently.

"Why not? I finished my OWLs and I'm emancipated. House Malfoy has been without a head for a year already and it can't afford to languish for another two."

That sounded like a practiced speech to Narcissa's ears. Much as she loved Draco, she knew that he wasn't normally so eloquent. More than likely, he wanted to prove that Harry wasn't the only one that could drop out of Hogwarts early and do well for himself.

"Be that as it may, nobody will take you seriously if you don't have your NEWTs." She cautioned and it was true.

But it just seemed to irritate Draco and he confirmed her prior suspicion. "Potter didn't even sit his OWLs and people seem to take _him_ seriously."

"You aren't Harry Potter." Narcissa said and held back a wince as his face reddened in anger.

"So what if I'm not Harry bloody Potter?" He demanded, scowling. "He's not any better than me!"

Once again, despite her love for her son, Narcissa knew that this simply wasn't true. Harry outperformed Draco in pretty much every category.

"Harry Potter was a legend before he was even two years old, the defeater of the Dark Lord." She said instead. "Since his return, he's reaffirmed that legend, becoming a wizard to be feared and respected. I'm sorry, Draco, but you don't have enough of a reputation to get away with dropping out of Hogwarts with an incomplete education."

"HE'S JUST A HALFBLOOD!" Draco shouted furiously, as if it would become true if he said it loudly enough.

"Don't you shout at me." Narcissa said sternly, now angered herself by her son's atrocious behavior. "And Harry Potter isn't 'just' anything. The Dark Lord thought he was just a baby and Lucius thought he was just a boy and look where that got them."

"YOU'RE DEFENDING HIM?!" Draco demanded, his volume going up rather than down. "HE KILLED FATHER AND TURNED YOU INTO HIS WHORE AND YOU'RE DEFENDING HIM?!"

"Lucius tried to have him killed, did you think he would just lay down and die?" She demanded, her own temper rapidly boiling. "Draco, I know you idolised your father, but he was not a good or even a particularly smart man. He let the Dark Lord brand him like cattle and then tried to assassinate the wizard that killed him as a baby. He got greedy and paid for it. And Harry never forced me to do anything I wasn't willing to do."

Narcissa wondered if she had said too much as Draco simply stared at her for a long time, the angry red color of his face slowly paling into normality.

"I worked hard all year to get the best possible grades on my OWLs so that I could get you away from that filthy halfblood. I had to listen to people make jokes about you being Potter's plaything and what he's doing to you, now you're telling me that you _like_ being his trophy?" He said quietly after nearly a full minute of silence.

"Draco..."

"Well? Answer me, do you like getting fucked by him?"

"Draco, please." She wasn't even sure what she was pleading for. That her son not be angry at her?

"Get out."

"What?" She asked, shocked.

"I said get out." He repeated.

"Draco, please, you have to understand-" Narcissa desperately tried to explain, reaching out with her hand.

"GET OUT!" Draco suddenly screamed over her, slapping her hand away so violently that she recoiled in genuine fear as well as hurt. "IF YOU LIKE POTTER SO MUCH, THEN GO LIVE WITH HIM. I WON'T HAVE A TRAITOR STAYING IN MY HOUSE."

Narcissa wasn't quite sure what transpired in the next few minutes or how she had ended up sobbing all over Andromeda, trying to explain what had happened to her baffled and worried sister, all she knew was that her son hated her, but she couldn't abandon Harry, couldn't abandon her place at the side of the new Lord Black.

XXXXX

 _July 5th. Hawaii._

Harry had nearly dozed off when the vibrations of his communication mirror brought him back to full wakefulness, from where he'd nearly fallen asleep sunbathing.

"Who is it?" Fleur asked sleepily, even more out of it than him.

"Let's see then." He mumbled, groping around for the vibrating object.

"Dora." He greeted, only mildly surprised to see the face of the metamorphmagus. "Good afternoon."

"Evening." The currently-pinkette replied with a grin.

" _Bonjour_ , Nymphadora." Fleur chimed in with a teasing smile.

"Damn it, woman, I told you not to call me that a thousand times already and why are your tits always out when I call you?"

Fleur's breasts were indeed fully exposed, oiled and gleaming in the sunlight, as was the rest of her. There was actually a small-ish magical community on Hawaii, but it turned out that American magicals were horrible prudes, even worse than the non-magical ones. Fleur had taken one look at the 'no nude sunbathing' rule, turned her nose up and declared that they would find their own stretch of beach.

"Good timing?" Fleur suggested with a smirk, fondling her breasts suggestively for the metamorph's viewing pleasure. "You like?"

Tonks stared at the play of light and oil on the enticing expanses of flesh for a moment and then shook her head. "Stop trying to distract me, you slut, I've got something important to say."

"Then by all means." The veela laughed.

"It's a bit of a funny story actually. See, I was just getting off work when my dad calls and asks me to come over. Being the dutiful daughter that I am, I rolled my eyes and apparated to my parent's house and what do I find there but Auntie Narcissa blubbering all over my mum, choking out a sad – and kind of disjointed – tale about how darling Cousin Draco kicked her out because she didn't want to stop fucking you. According to Dad, Kreacher popped her in about ten minutes before I got there and she's been a mess ever since."

Tonks took a deep breath and pinned Harry with a penetrating orange gaze. "Now I've never paid any attention to all those rumors about you boning my aunt, but now I have to ask, are you boning my aunt?

Seeing no way or even much reason to lie, Harry told the truth. "Yes, I'm boning your aunt."

Tonks simply nodded as if this was the expected answer. "Figures, you always did have a thing for older women."

"What can I say? There's something special about fucking a woman twenty or thirty years your senior."

"Mou, does that mean you found my mother more attractive than me?" Fleur pouted.

"Yes." Harry nodded decisively.

"You pig." Fleur said and started slapping him over the chest, but didn't quite manage to keep her laugh in.

"Hey, you asked." Harry defended, blocking her vicious assault with a smirk. "Don't get mad at me for answering your questions."

"Alright, you two can have yourselves a shag later, I have more questions!" Tonks broke in.

"I'm sure we can multi-task." Fleur said with her most sultry tones.

"Let's not." The metamorphmagus said with a little quaver in her voice that indicated she was not entirely opposed to the idea.

Fleur smirked some more and shrugged, deliberately jiggling her breasts. She would be getting Nymphadora into a four-way relationship with them no matter how long it took. A person as likable as her with adjustable intimate parts was simply too good of a catch to pass up.

"What other questions did you have?" Harry asked, ignoring that little by-play at the end. He knew what Fleur and Luna were angling for where Dora was concerned and while he couldn't say that he was exactly opposed to it, he _was_ staying out of it. If his current girlfriends succeeded in tempting his ex back, then drinks and orgies for everyone and if not, he would just have to restrict himself to wishful thinking.

"Oh, I was just thinking back to what a snobby bitch my aunt used to be, but as soon as you started fucking her, she suddenly starts shaping up to be a decent human being. You wouldn't happen to have an explanation for this strange coincidence, would you?"

"I'm a really good shag?" Harry said weakly, knowing exactly what Dora was getting at.

"You're not that good." Tonks deadpanned.

"Oi!"

"Harry, did you fuck my aunt in the soul?"

Harry slumped in defeat. "Yes, I fucked your aunt in the soul."

"Damn it, Harry, you can't just use the Joining to give people attitude adjustments." Tonks sighed, rubbing her forehead in exasperation.

"It was a rock and a hard place type of situation." Harry protested. "She was begging me for help, but I knew she was a vindictive, poisonous bitch, so it was either leave a desperate woman out for the sharks or help a vindictive, poisonous bitch get back on her feet. I didn't like either option so I decided to make her _my_ vindictive, poisonous bitch. You can't tell me that things aren't better now."

"I guess." Tonks admitted reluctantly, because she well remembered exactly what a vindictive, poisonous bitch Narcissa Malfoy was or used to be, but she was an _auror_ for fuck's sake and Soul Magic was massively illegal.

"Don't worry about it too much, Nymphadora." Fleur soothed. "All is well that ends well, _non_?"

"Your pretty little arse won't end well if you don't stop calling me by that name." Tonks snarled.

"Nymphadora!" Fleur gasped dramatically and turned towards Harry. "'Arry, did you 'ear that? Nymphadora is threatening me with anal if I don't stop calling her Nymphadora. What are you going to do if Nymphadora goes through with her threat?"

Harry grinned at his veela lover. "I'll take your cunt and then we'll switch."

"I do like the sound of that." Fleur purred. "Though I would prefer a, what do you English call it, a spitroasting?"

"Nuh uh, Dora said she wanted your arse and your arse she shall have...although, couldn't she just grow two cocks with her metamorph powers?"

"Yes..." Fleur breathed, her eyes gleaming at the idea.

"Oi, stop making plans to have me turn into some kind of monster futa for your twisted fantasies!" Tonks protested, her skin literally fire engine red.

"True, I still haven't broken that orifice in myself." Harry nodded sagely and turned back to Fleur. "We should get that handled soon."

"Hm, I 'ave never seen my rear end as a sexual organ, but your descriptions of 'ow much your Professor Vector enjoyed it 'as admittedly made me curious and I cannot let it be said that a mere witch would try what a veela will not." Fleur mused.

"Wait, wait, wait, you fucked Professor Vector in the arse?" Tonks cut in, both impressed and curious.

"Oh yeah, you would not believe what a buttslut she turned out to be." Harry shook his head with a grin. "I don't think she's removed the buttplug I gave her for more than ten minutes at a time in the past year."

"Wow, talk about ruining the image of professionalism I had for her..."

"Nonsense, it's perfectly possible to be a professional with a buttplug stuffed in your rectum 24/7." Harry snickered.

"Anyway, getting back to the matter at hand..." Tonks began assertively, wanting to move past any talk about buttsex. "when are you coming home? Narcissa is apparently going to be staying at my parents' house for now, but you'll have to pick up your personal vindictive, poisonous bitch pretty soon."

"We didn't really have a set return date, but it _is_ getting to be a bit dull around here, my lessons with Ahiga have stalled and I do have some responsibilities coming up back in Britain." Harry said thoughtfully.

"Tomorrow or the day after?" Fleur suggested.

"That'll work." He nodded.

"Alright, cool. I'll let my folks know." Tonks said and signed off.

Veela and wizard stayed quiet for a few moments and then Fleur looked over at Harry with a suggestive smirk. "So...Luna is giving Etal a tour on one of the other islands with Frank and Sirius."

"Mm."

"We 'ave this little spot all to ourselves." She went on, running fingers down Harry's chest.

"Mhmmm."

"That little talk 'as left me excited and curious." The fingers glided over his erect manhood, making it twitch eagerly.

"Mmmmmmhmmmmm."

"I think I need to stretch a bit."

Harry observed with lust-darkened eyes as the sexy veela stepped right in front of him, planted her feet at shoulder width and bent over all the way to the ground, leaving her tight arse and moist opening fully exposed to his view. The oil she'd used made her gleam and the tight ring of her anus looked more inviting than ever.

He got up from his own beach chair and kneeled behind her, taking a quick whiff of her juices before dragging his tongue over her opening, making her gasp and nearly fall forward on her knees.

"'Arry, what _are_ you doing, you naughty boy?" She said huskily, turning around to face him.

"Just testing your balance, my dear. It seems a bit off, why don't you brace yourself against that rock over there?" He said, gesturing over at one of the large boulders sitting on this part of the beach.

"A good idea." She said and went to do exactly that.

For a moment, Harry simply watched as she braced herself against the rock and bent to a nearly ninety degree angle, gleaming arse sticking out beautifully. He had been dubious about her use of the oil seeing as she didn't need any protection from the Sun, but there was no denying how much it enhanced her already immense sex appeal.

Moment of appreaciation over, he retook his kneeling position behind her and got to work on licking her honeypot. He took his time doing it too, deriving great enjoyment from her little gasps and shaking legs.

A few minutes in, she let out a cry and shuddered violently with climax, a small squirt of vaginal fluid wetting the sand between her feet.

"So, 'ow was my balance?" She asked huskily, still shaking a little but staying in position.

"Excellent, but now it's time for the main exam." Harry said, preparing a small transfiguration. "Stay steady now."

The spell raised the sand under her feet, lifting her a few inches. Just enough that her holes lined up perfectly with his member.

"Do your worst." She challenged, bracing herself more firmly.

"We'll save that for later. For now, let's start with beginner's anal." Harry smirked, running a knuckle across her virgin rectum.

Fleur balked a bit and looked back at him nervously. "Right now? I thought..."

"We don't have to if you aren't comfortable with it." he assured her.

Instead of taking the offered way out though, her expression firmed with determination. " _Non_ , now is good."

Harry shook his head at the veela's stubborn pride, especially when sex was involved. Still, she'd given the go ahead and far be it from him to say no to an arse as magnificent as that.

While she was oily and slippery, he had no idea how appropriate sunbathing oil was for ones insides and thought better of using it for the purposes of lubrication. Instead, he used the familiar conjuration spell to create a spurt of lubricant over his fingers.

"This'll feel a bit weird at first, but try to relax." Harry advised.

Fleur nodded a bit nervously, but made an honest effort. Of course, she still clenched instinctively when she felt his lubed up middle finger sliding into her and nearly jumped when the cleaning spell hit her bowels and removed all traces of waste.

"What was that?" She asked nervously.

"Just getting you ready." He assured, reapplied the lubrication to his fingers and re-inserted one.

It was slow going since Harry didn't want to hurt her. First just the one finger until she got used to the sensation and started enjoyig it, then two, with frequent re-applications of lube to prevent any unpleasant friction.

Once her rectum was sufficiently loosened, he applied the lubrication to his member and another to her anus just to be thorough.

"Alright, i'm going in. If you want me to slow down, just say so." He said, placing his tip against the slippery opening.

Fleur nodded, hands braced against the rock and eyes resolutely facing the ground.

The process was more than a bit torturous for both of them. Fleur was clearly enjoying the penetration and would occasionally rock back impatiently, only to wince as it drove him in further than she was prepared to take. For Harry, it was simply _so slow_ and reminded him why he had used a buttplug on Septima to prepare her instead of doing it this way. He had doubted his ability to restrain himself for this long.

It took a solid fifteen minutes before Harry was able to sheathe himself inside her bowels all the way to the hilt and by then both of them were far from their best.

Fleur's knees were shaky and her breath came in pants and Harry was struggling with himself not to being thrusting wildly like his body wanted to.

"You alright?" He asked roughly.

"Yes!" She gasped, nodding along. "You can...you can start moving now."

Harry firmly gripped her hips and slowly pulled out, relishing in her whine. Then he pushed back in with equal slowness.

"This is...good!" She gasped. "Faster, you can go...faster!"

"Gladly."

He increased his tempo from a slow tease to a faster, but still gentle thrusting. Even that nearly proved too much for Fleur as she cried out every time he hilted himself into her. He'd long since had to take over the task of holding her legs up, as they were shaking too much.

"'Arry! Please, please fill me." She begged. "I can't take it any more."

"Here it comes!" He grunted and thrust into her roughly, groaning as his aching testicles released their load into her.

Fleur gasped for air with each spurt of warm seed painting her bowels white and cried out weakly when he made a final few thrusts to squeeze out the last of it.

Once it was over, she sank her knees, feeling exhausted in a way that one round of sex hadn't left her in a long time. Harry sank down with her and wrapped his arms around her, maintaining the Joining that they had kept going for the entire duration of the intercourse, both of them glorying in the intimate connection.

For a few minutes, there was no sound but the ocean, the occasional bird and the slow _drip-drip_ of his seed leaking out of her and staining the sands.

"I cannot believe we didn't do that sooner." She murmured, leaning back against him contently.

"That good?" He asked with a self-satisfied smile, justifiably proud of himself.

"Mmm." She sighed. "It was a different kind of good. Not like tasting your magic on my tongue or feeling it rush into my womb, but so very good all the same."

"I'm glad you liked it as much as I did then." Harry said, nibbling on her ear and gently fondling her slippery breasts.

"Now that I know what this is like, I will not rest until I 'ave Nymphadora take me from behind as a double-cocked monster futa while I 'ave you in my mouth." Fleur vowed.

"I suppose having life goals is important." Harry quipped. "We'll have to give your butt lots of practice if you want to try that one though."

Fleur turned her head enough to allow for limited eye contact, letting him see the gleam in her sky-blue eye. "Yes, lots of practice."

XXXXX

 _Tonks Residence._

Nymphadora Tonks had just poured herself a glass of juice after watching her mum take her distraught aunt to a guest room when she felt a foreboding chill go down her spine.

"Brrrr!" She said, experiencing an odd, full body shake.

"You alright there, honey?" Ted Tonks asked, looking at his daughter in concern.

"Yeah, I just felt a great disturbance in the Force, as if two perverts on the other end of the world were talking about me and making plans." Tonks frowned.

"That's...awfully specific." Ted blinked.

"Yeah..."


	34. Chapter 34

**Special thanks to Joe Lawyer for being a great beta.**

XXXXX

 _July 7th._

"So this is where you grew up?" Harry commented soon after they apparated in.

"Yep." Tonks confirmed, popping the 'p'.

"It looks...nice."

"You mean boring, don't you?"

"Nothing wrong with your hometown being a bit on the boring side."

"I always hated it here." She confessed. "I couldn't play with any of the other kids because I'd start shifting as soon as I relaxed and nothing ever happens here. I got myself an apartment in London as soon as I could."

"To each their own." He shrugged, privately thinking that he'd take this little village over London any day. Of course, that wasn't really saying much given his opinion on cities. "How's your magic coming along?"

"Great if I do say so myself." Tonks grinned proudly. "I think I've managed to get the hang of sensing magic without turning myself into a pickled brain. I can do it pretty much all the time now."

"Very nice." Harry said, impressed by the progress she'd made. "We'll put you through a few tests of course, but we can get you started on Will Manifestation as soon as it's clear that you've figured out Passive Magic Awareness. You should drop by the manor tomorrow and we'll get started."

"Joy." The metamorphmagus snarked, though she was obviously pleased by the praise. "How far ahead of me did Fleur and Luna get under your teachings, oh great Jedi?"

"Sarcasm is the path to the Dark Side, young Padawan, but to answer your question, I'll be moving them onto Spellweaving soon. I expect to have some trouble with it though, so you might well catch up to them."

"Why would you have any trouble?"

"With Fleur because she's a veela, and with Luna because she's...Luna." Harry said and at her quizzical look explained further. "Fleur came into this with an advantage because veela have an inborn magic awareness that they use to find mates. I only had to help her refine it a little bit and she was good to go. On the other hand, her magic leans heavily towards Light and fire, which makes it explosive and difficult to control. She can already throw fire around like it's nobody's business, but the more precise spells will be much harder for her to stabilise and I suspect she'll always have a predilection for sharp bursts of power and a disadvantage in sustained magics."

Tonks nodded thoughtfully, recalling how many feathers the beautiful veela had incinerated while learning Will Manifestation. "What about Luna?"

"Luna is..." Harry hunted for words to explain his quirky young girlfriend. "You know how most people have their thoughts categorised in boxes? They have separate boxes for work related things, relationships, hobbies, likes, dislikes and so on. That's how most peoples' minds work, they like order. Luna on the other hand doesn't even have a single box, all of her thoughts are just floating around randomly in her head with no discernable organisation. This isn't necessarily a bad thing mind you, it gave her a massive boost in learning Occlumency because navigating a mind that chaotic is difficult even when it's undefended and I was easily able to help her refine it so that anyone trying Legilimency on her would only get a headache for their troubles. It also occasionally gives her incredible insight into things that others might miss because she can make connections between thoughts and memories that others would have sorted into different mental boxes. This kind of scattered focus might get in the way of properly structuring more complex spells though and I'll have to find a way to work with it rather than against it if it does."

"She seemed to be doing fine with Will Manifestation." Tonks pointed out.

"She did and is," Harry conceded. "but that requires control of emotion rather than thought. Plus, I was able to use the Joining to guide her along as well."

Tonks grimaced slightly at the mention of the Joining. That ability still made her uneasy.

"Don't make that face now." Harry teased. "Once you get the hang of Will Manifestation, you'll be able to do the Joining yourself."

"I'd settle for just not being affected by it." Tonks huffed.

"You might already be there, depending on how advanced your Magic Awareness is." Harry shrugged.

"What?" The metamorphmagus spluttered in surprise, nearly tripping over her own feet. "But I thought..."

"That you need to be able to perform it?" Harry supplied. "Not quite, at least I don't think so. The Joining isn't really supposed to be a tool of subversion, that's just what happens when one of the participants is oblivious and gaining Passive Magic Awareness should take care of that, allowing you to sense outside magical influences. I've done some research on the subject and I think I've managed to track down the origins of the ability to India. The writing tended to be contradictory and full of British propaganda, but some of the more reliable-sounding texts I managed to get my hands on had a few mentions about the use of sex to achieve enlightenment or something. I'm not really sure since Hindu myths and practices can be confusing at best to an outsider, but Sex Magic doesn't seem to be terribly uncommon there, or at least it wasn't before European wizards started sticking their flaccid little wands into everything."

"Flaccid little wands, good one." Tonks snickered. "Wouldn't that make you a eunuch though?"

Harry considered it for a moment and shook his head in disagreement. "No, in this context a eunuch would be someone that had magic and then lost it, which isn't really possible without dying. I, on the other hand, would have a mighty wandless vagina."

"... This metaphor isn't really working anymore."

"Such is life." Harry shrugged philosophically. "But to get back on topic, I'm hoping I can find some better literature on the subject when we go there. If I'm really lucky, there's even remnant of the original Indian magical traditions left that Britain and the ICW hasn't managed to stamp out."

"Can't help you there." Tonks shrugged. "All I know about Indian wizards is that they keep bugging us to lift the ban on flying carpets."

"I'm with India on this one, that ban is retarded. One of the first things I'm doing when we get there is buying a flying carpet."

"You know you won't be able to bring it back to Britain, right?"

"No, I can't get caught with one in my possesion by the authorities. Big difference."

"Harry, _I_ am the authorities."

"I'll let you fly it."

"Throw in a foot massage afterwards and you've got yourself a deal."

"You drive a hard bargain, Auror Tonks."

"Take it or leave."

"Of course I'll take it."

"Excellent. Pleasure doing business with you, Lord Potter-Black."

"Ye gods, that sounds pompous." Harry said, shaking his head. "And Narcissa tells me they'll be calling me that whenever I appear in the Wizengamot."

"I know what you mean, Bonesy always looks like she wants to strangle someone after one of their sessions. By the way, you really think you'll be able to push through that improved werewolf legislation of yours?"

"I should be able to. Fudge is an easily led idiot and he should be desperate for a popularity boost, he always is." Harry said and turned towards the metamorphmagus thoughtfully. "Since we're on the subject, could you pass on a meeting request from me to Bones? She seems like the type of woman that would have a power base among the less retarded Wizengamot members and it would be best if I could secure her support ahead of time."

"Sure." Tonks shrugged. "Look, there's my parents' house."

"Nice garden." Harry complimented, taking in the rather beautiful spread of flora.

"Mum has a serious green thumb, she even grows her own vegetables out in the back. I used to help her with it when I was younger."

"Sprout must have loved you." He commented with a grin.

"She did, for a while at least." Tonks grinned ruefully in remembrance. "I think I turned out a bit more wild than she would've liked."

"Nymphadora Tonks, the Wild Hufflepuff." Harry quipped.

"What are you then, the Dropout Ravenclaw?"

"Formalised education is for sheep. I do miss the library and the Astronomy Tower though."

"Not Professor Vector?" She asked archly.

"A bit, but our arrangement was very casual. She liked the excitement and the scandal and I liked having a submissive older witch at my disposal." Harry said thoughtfully, thinking of Septima. Maybe he could pay her a little visit...

"Is that why you fucked my aunt in the soul?"

Harry sighed in exasperation. "No, I told you already why I did that. I won't deny that I enjoyed it, but it's not the same thing. I made a choice with Narcissa and she's my responsibility now."

Tonks decided to drop it, despite her mixed feelings on the matter. Besides, they had arrived at her parents' house.

"Alright, let's do this." She said, mentally preparing herself. It felt like she was introducing her boyfriend to her parents for the first time, even though Harry wasn't her boyfriend anymore and her parents had no idea he had ever been one.

"I thought I was supposed to be the one who's nervous about being introduced to the parents." Harry teased.

"Shut it, Potter." She growled and barged in through the door. "Mum, Dad!"

"Nymphadora?" Andromeda Tonks answered, she and her husband coming to greet their daughter only to stop in surprise at the dark haired wizard with her.

"Mum, this is Harry Potter." Nymphadora introduced.

"A pleasure to meet you Mrs. Tonks." Harry and smiling with all the practiced charm that his foster mother had drilled him on relentlessly.

Andromeda blinked as the young wizard took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. It had been a long time since anyone had treated her like the daughter of an old House, but she did still remember how it went."Likewise, Lord Potter."

"Harry, please. Your lovely daughter is a close friend and my godfather your cousin, we're as good as family."

"Then I insist you call me Andromeda, or Andy if you prefer."

"Andy then."

Andromeda smiled at him. She hadn't been sure what to think of Harry Potter. Powerful beyond doubt, certainly dangerous given his spectacular execution of Lucius, but what was he like as a person? That he had apparently taken advantage of Narcissa's situation to take liberties with her usually wouldn't speak well for his character, but her baby sister was obviously happy with the arrangement and wouldn't have it any other way, which was unexpected to say the least. The whole thing was a bit strange from an outside perspective.

Still, her first impression of him so far was quite positive and Nymphadora obviously liked him if they were friends, so she was inclined to think well of him.

"My husband, Edward." She introduced, letting none of her thoughts show.

"Call me Ted." The man said affably as they shook hands.

"Then you should call me Harry."

Meanwhile, the youngest Tonks could only watch incredulously as Harry managed to make an overwhelmingly positive first impression on her parents. She knew that this sudden departure from his usual snark had to be an act, but damn if it wasn't a good act.

A few more meaningless pleasantries were exchanged before Andromeda turned to her daughter. "Nymphadora, could you please get Narcissa?"

The metamorphmagus briefly glowered at her mother for the use of the hated full name before she did as requested.

The Tonks residence was, while not exactly small, also not especially large and didn't have much in the way of extra rooms. For this reason, Narcissa had been given Nymphadora's old room.

As she still considered this to be her room despite moving out, Nymphadora didn't bother to knock and simply burst in.

"Nymphadora!" Narcissa gasped in a mild panic, quickly hiding something behind her back and turning to look at the unexpected arrival with a rapidly reddening face.

The metamorphmagus blinked. This scene was very familiar, though she had been on the other end of it a few years ago.

Slowly, a grin grew on her face as she let the blonde witch sweat for a few seconds before speaking. "Found my old stash of porno mags, did you?"

"That is...I mean..." Narcissa stammered, blushing even more. Then she tried to turn the situation around. "Why do you even have these?"

"Aside from the obvious uses, they're a great help for a budding metamorphmagus." She snickered. "Now come on, you perv, Harry's here."

"He is?" Narcissa asked anxiously, almost jumping to her feet.

"Yeah, he's waiting for you downstairs."

The two of them made their way back downstairs silently, both focused on their own thoughts. Narcissa was trying to forget that she'd been caught perusing muggle pornography by her niece while said niece was reflecting on how hilarious being the one to catch someone perusing pornography was.

They found that Harry and the Tonkses had sat down by then with a cup of tea.

"Since when do you drink tea?" Dora asked incredulously at the sight.

"After trying the swill that passes for tea in the United States, I just felt like it. Besides, Andy offered." Harry shrugged and turned towards Narcissa. "You alright, Cissy?"

Narcissa smiled and nodded, regaining much of her confidence at the show of concern from her lord. "I am."

"Come join us." Andromeda said, looking between her sister and their guest speculatively. "Harry here was just telling us about his trip to America."

That should give her some insight into what was going on.

XXXXX

Some time later, Harry and Narcissa left the Tonkses and were installing the blonde witch as a permanent guest in Potter Manor.

"You could have come here right away, you know." Harry said mildly. He hadn't wanted to say this while at the Tonkses because it could be construed as insulting, but it was just the two of them now.

"I didn't want to impose." Narcissa replied demurely. In truth, she hadn't wanted to incur his displeasure if she presumed to just move in, especially when he was abroad. Mistresses were generally not welcome in the same home as wives or steady girlfriends. It was unseemly.

"It's no problem." Harry shrugged. "I suppose it is sort of my fault that Draco kicked you out."

It was definitely his fault, though Draco carried an equal share of the blame for being an utter twat.

"I will always love my son, but he made his choice." Narcissa said, voice breaking only slightly. "I can only hope that he calms down with time and sees that Lucius brought his fate upon himself and that you did us a great kindness."

Harry doubted that was going to happen. From what he recalled, the only notable traits that Draco had ever shown was an ego completely disproportionate to his mediocre abilities and an inability to accept any facts that contradicted said ego. Still, he wouldn't crush Narcissa's hopes this day, even if they were empty hopes.

"You'll have a home here until he does, or until you decide to get your own place." He said instead.

"Thank you, my lord." She said gratefully.

Harry briefly considered telling her that she could call him by name, but decided against it. Removing too many walls could end up being problematic.

"You're welcome, Cissy." He said and turned to leave, only to stop as she caught his wrist, making him raise a questioning eyebrow at her.

"Will you...will you still visit me at night?" Narcissa asked nervously. She knew it was greedy, asking him to still frequent her bed now that she lived under the same roof as the veela and the Lovegood girl, but she had to know. It would drive her mad if she had to see him every day and hope he would every night, only to be disappointed. At least if he said he wouldn't, she would know where she stood now.

Harry simply smiled and leaned in to give her a brief kiss. "Don't wear anything to bed tonight."

He left then and Narcissa looked at his retreating back with a smile on her face and a happy feeling in her chest. Even if her son had rejected her, her lord still wanted her and she found that the latter was more important. Draco would come around eventually.

XXXXX

 _July 8th._

Tonks usually spent the mornings before her afternoon shifts sleeping or otherwise relaxing, but she had to admit to feeling some excitement as she walked up to the front door of Potter Manor.

She'd worked hard to master what Harry called the first step in really learning magic, that being Passive Magic Awareness; the ability to sense magic at all times by training up one's spiritual sense until it was second nature like sight or hearing. She was eager to show off the results of that hard work and move on to the second step, Will Manifestation. It was going to be so damned cool to do magic without a wand.

It was also nice to have her friends back, even if they did keep hinting that they'd like to be more than friends. Harry didn't, but she doubted he'd be opposed to it either, not when their split had nothing to do with a lack of attraction between them.

Tonks really wasn't sure what to think about that situation. Her life plans had never included being part of a foursome, but the thought was hardly off-putting. _Mum would give me that knowing smirk of hers and Dad would get angry on my behalf._ Ted Tonks never had the chance to integrate into British magical society thanks to being a muggleborn and had very conservative, muggle views on relationships as a result, nor had he ever really cottoned on to the fact that metamorphs were almost guaranteed to be bisexual. Though she had nobody to compare herself too, Tonks could easily recall the teenaged curiousity and subsequent shifting and experimenting all too clearly. Hell, she tended to grow a cock just to make it easier to take a piss. Her father might get indignant about his little girl being just one woman of three, but she'd be getting as much booty out of it as Harry, so it could hardly be called unfair.

Not that Tonks was seriously considering becoming part of a foursome. _Even if Harry and Fleur are delicious and he did say that the Joining wouldn't affect me anymore..._ Luna was there too of course, but she had no particular feelings on the quirky blonde. She was easy to like for sure, but she'd been Harry's friend during their relationship and Tonks had always seen her as a kid. _But she's older now than Harry was when we broke things off._

Another brief vision of what it would be like passed through her mind and turned up the temperature between her legs. _I knew it was a bad idea to stop picking up one night stands, but most of them wouldn't know what to do with a girl's cooch if you gave them a manual anyway. Even the few girls I tried at that gay bar were shite at it. Not like Harry or Fleur..._

Grumbling under her breath irritably, she marched up to the front door and went right in without knocking. She had a standing invitation to show up whenever.

Teeny popped in practically the moment she set foot inside the house, nearly vibrating with energy. "Missy Tonks! Master Harry is waiting for you in the drawing room."

"Thanks, Teeny." She said, almost laughing when the house elf made a little 'squee' sound and promised to make snacks as she popped away. Teeny had been bummed out in Harry's absence and was clearly still riding a high over his return.

Harry was indeed in the drawing room, though he was not alone and the activity going on made Tonks blink in baffled surprise.

Fleur was there as well, sitting across from a gloriously colorful winged snake that could only be the quetzalcoatl she'd heard so much about, but not seen yet.

While she was a bit awed by the mythical creature, her bafflement had more to do with the fact that it seemed to be playing chess against Fleur, with Harry hissing instructions at it.

"So, who's winning?" She asked in bemusement, taking in the bizarre tableu.

"I am." Fleur said assertively.

Etalpalli hissed something that Tonks was somehow certain was a rebuttal. To her ears, the hisses sounded almost like the sound of a flute overlaid by serpentine hissing. Rather pleasant to the ear actually.

"Etal disagrees." Harry laughed. "He says he's kicking your butt."

"Hmph, 'e does not even 'ave legs to kick with." Fleur retorted and moved a piece.

Another musical hiss from the quetzalcoatl had Harry biting his lip to keep from laughing, so whatever the flying snake said must have been pretty funny.

"Anyway, Dora, meet Etalpalli." He said instead of translating.

The quetzalcoatl slythered towards her through the air until it was right in her face, bright golden eyes scrutinising her closely and forked tongue flicking out to taste the air.

"Wotcher." She said, still a bit bemused at being introduced to a magical creature as if it was a human, but Harry had made it clear that he was a prideful snake and wouldn't tolerate disrespect.

Etal made a short hiss in reply and Tonks saw Fleur pantomiming a scratching motion on her own neck.

A bit wary, but willing to trust the veela's advice, she reached up towards the quetzalcoatl's mane of feathers and alternated between gently ruffling and smoothing them. To her amusement, he turned a bit to the side and wiggled in obvious pleasure.

"I think it's safe to say that he likes you." Harry commented dryly.

"He's really beautiful." She replied with a smile.

"'E knows it too." Fleur said, shaking her head.

Tonks was about to reply when she suddenly felt something. Brow furrowed, she reached out blindly with her hand and was only mildly surprised when it came into contact with the gossamer fabric of Harry's invisibility cloak.

"You found me!" Luna exclaimed happily once the cloak was pulled off.

"Why were you hiding?" Tonks asked, baffled once again.

"It was a test." Harry answered. "I wanted to see how much progress you've made, so we concoted this distraction while Luna hid under the cloak."

"Oh, so how did I do?"

"Not bad. Luna was almost on top of you before you sensed her, but my cloak does admittedly make it hard to sense people under it. Nevermind the range though, the important thing is that you didn't need to stop and focus to do it, you did it passively. Congratulations, Dora, you're ready to move on to Will Manifestation."

"Alright!" She cheered, pumping a fist into the air in celebration. "Let's do it."

XXXXX

"Things are going to be a little different from here on out." Harry began after they had settled into a room. "So far, we've worked on getting you to see past your physical senses so that you could develop the spiritual ones. Now you'll need to learn how to use your body rather than ignore it."

Tonks cocked her head sideways in puzzlement. "But you've always been saying that magic is all mental."

"The creation of spells is, but we won't be working with actual spells until we get to Spellweaving. What we'll be doing is basically controlled Accidental Magic and that requires the body."

"But Accidental Magic just happens when kids are distressed. How is the body involved in that?"

"It acts as a conduit through which your soul can influence physical reality. Think of your body as a giant wand if you will."

"As long as it isn't a flaccid one." Tonks leered.

"Well if it helps you, then by all means imagine yourself as a massive, erect... _wand_ , shooting out great spurts of thick, pale magic." Harry grinned.

"Damn, now I'll never be able to look at a wand without laughing again." She said ruefully.

"I know how you feel. I've been seeing wands as a masturbation aid for years."

"Helping wizards and witches perform for two thousand years."

"You think that's bad, just imagine spelljism spraying everywhere with every spell cast."

"Gross." Tonks grimaced, having a sudden disgusting mental image of Hogwarts covered in a thousand years worth of ejaculation. " _Really_ gross."

"Quite, now back on topic. We're going to be training you how to induce the appropriate mindset to spark a burst of magic. Fair warning; it's going to suck."

"What do you mean?" She asked warily.

"Will Manifestation is a brute force approach to magic, with simple and one-dimensional results; rudimentary telekinesis, blasts of force, stuff breaking and the like. Simple and generally unimpressive though the effects might be, the backlash can be serious because of the method used to achieve them."

"Backlash?"

"Magical exhaustion basically. Only that instead of a headache and an ever decreasing ability to concentrate, you can expect it to go further. A wand will prevent you from driving yourself past your limits simply because you will be unable to focus enough to keep casting no matter how much wands simplify things, but once you gain enough skill in Will Manifestation, you could theoretically keep going until you rupture the blood vessels in your brain."

Well that didn't sound good. "Theoretically?"

"I obviously don't have any research to point to, but it makes sense. The First Law of Thermodynamics states that energy in an enclosed system can be neither created nor destroyed, but magic violates this natural law constantly, if usually only temporarily. The values are so minor compared to the vastness of the Universe that you don't really notice the backlash most of the time, but keep at it long enough and you will. That's magical exhaustion. If you keep on pushing it, something has to give out eventually and the human brain is a lot less sturdy than the Universe."

"That sounds bad, let's avoid that. Actually, why do we even need to do this?"

"You've already learned how to sense magic, now you need to learn how to express it. Without Will Manifestation, Spellweaving is basically just really focused daydreaming. Therefore, expect frequent headaches."

"Lovely, is there anything else I should be aware of?"

Harry looked like he was about to answer, but then he frowned deeply and shook his head. "It's probably for the best if I don't tell you. The training will be more effective if you don't know about it."

Well that wasn't ominous at all.

XXXXX

 _July 10th._

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, please state your name and business." The cool female voice instructed.

"Harry Potter and Etalpalli, here to cause a scene." Harry replied politely.

"Thank you. Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

With a click and a rattle, the badge in question slid out of the metal chute. _Harry Potter and Etalpalli, Causing a Scene_ it proclaimed proudly.

Harry had carefully considered the best approach to introducing Etalpalli to the sub-optimally intelligent wizards and witches of the British Isles. Hiding him indefinitely would never work and Etal was too proud for it anyway. In the end, he had decided that brazenly walking into the Ministry Atrium with the quetzalcoatl sitting on his shoulders at full size would be for the best. The shock and awe would deny the gossipmongers the opportunity to concoct too many idiotic stories.

" _What a strange contraption._ " Etalpalli hissed, looking around the cramped phone booth/lift curiously.

" _Yes, the Ministry is rather fond of strange contraptions for some reason._ " Harry hissed back, ignoring the drone of the automated voice as it went on with the usual drivel.

They were barely a few steps into the Atrium when the first gasps started up, rapidly spreading until everyone stood stock still to stare at the wizard and quetzalcoatl moving past them as if they didn't exist.

" _They look so stupid._ " Etal hissed out a laugh.

" _They are stupid._ " Harry replied, setting off another wave of gasps at the blatant use of Parseltongue. He could already hear whispers of ' _Parseltongue'_ , ' _Dark_ ' and ' _You-Know-Who_ '.

Idiotic as it was, Harry had actually kind of missed this. For all the time that he spent verbally shitting over the general intelligence of British magicals, it was at least familiar. America had been great in many ways, but he had been an outsider there, surrounded by foreign and unknown powers. It had left him wrongfooted several times and it felt good to be back in a place where he was the power.

Harry walked past the wand registration desk in open defiance of standard protocol and went directly for the lift.

There was a junior clerk or something already in it, a young witch that Harry vaguely recalled ogling in his second year while he was dealing with his rune-inflicted super puberty. Somewhat predictably, she stuffed herself into a corner and whimpered fearfully as Etal examined her with his bright golden eyes.

"Don't worry, he doesn't bite." Harry said reassuringly, grinning at the girl.

She looked at him for a moment, but said nothing and fled the tight confines at the first opportunity.

" _What a nervous girl._ " Etal commented idly.

" _Most people are_ _when confronted with new things._ " Harry replied.

On several floors, people took one look at the two of them and suddenly realised that they didn't want to go on the lift after all and on others they were blatantly just there to gawk. The news of his arrival had clearly traveled through the Ministry at the speed of rumor.

His arrival in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was a mirror to his arrival in the Atrium, though perhaps a touch more disciplined. It was also much better staffed than he remembered from his last visit. Nice to know that all that gold was doing something.

"Oi! Harry." A familiar voice called out, sounding mildly exasperated.

"Dora, how are you on this fine day?" He asked, smiling smarmily.

"As if you don't know." She huffed. "Do you have any idea what kind of scene you caused?!"

Harry silently gestured to his visitor's badge, making the metamorphmagus glare at him with twitching lips.

"Smartarse. You can't bring Etal to Bonesy's office with you though, them's the rules." She said, still trying not to smile.

"Ah, would you keep him with you for the duration then?" Harry asked and turned to Etal without waiting for her reply. " _Looks like you'll need to stay with Dora while I talk to Bones._ "

Etal did the quetzalcoatl version of a shrug and draped himself over the auror's shoulders.

"Harry, I'm at work." Dora protested.

"Make sure you give his neck feathers a good rub." He said and walked away.

Or tried to at least, since his path ended up being blocked by another auror.

"Can I help you?" Harry asked pointedly.

"Potter, you're under arrest." The man said, a tad self-importantly it had to be said.

"Dawlish, what the fuck are you playing at?" Dora demanded, glaring at her fellow auror.

"Stay out of this, Tonks." The now named Dawlish shot back tersely.

"Arrested, am I?" Harry challenged, making a quelling gesture at Dora. "On what grounds?"

"Use of Dark Magic." Dawlish seemed to swell with self-importance even further at the muttering going on around him.

Harry briefly wondered if this windbag had actually found out about some of his more dubious activities, but quickly dismissed it. The timing was wrong. No, he had a feeling this had to do with his entrance earlier.

"Did I? When?"

"Don't play coy, Potter. Half the Ministry saw you speaking Parseltongue in the Atrium."

"How is that Dark Magic?"

Dawlish seemed to be getting annoyed at being questioned. "Everyone knows it's Dark Magic! You-Know-Who was a parselmouth!"

"So the fact that Voldemort" Harry ignored the gasping at the utterance of the name. Damned pussies. "used it makes it Dark Magic?"

"Yes!"

"You're going to have a devil of a time arresting all the dark wizards in this country then, especially since you're one yourself."

"What?" Dawlish spluttered. "How dare you?!"

"You said that Parseltongue, a language, is Dark Magic because Voldemort used it. By that logic, English is Dark Magic too."

"That's different!"

"How?"

Dawlish sputtered as he tried to justify himself, sparking laughter and ridicule when he failed.

"Step off and stop making an arse of yourself, Dawlish." Dora jeered.

Seeing no support, Dawlish stalked off, face burning with humiliation.

"I hate that moron." Dora said with a shake of her head once the crowd of aurors had dispersed. "He's got his eye on the Head Auror position and keeps trying these stupid stunts to boost his profile."

"Ah, one of those." Harry nodded understandingly.

XXXXX

A couple of minutes after that altercation, Harry was ensconced in Director Bones' office, sitting in front of her desk while the formidable witch stared at him consideringly.

"Auror Tonks said that you wanted to talk to me about something." She finally said, apparently deciding not to mention his attention-grabbing entrance.

"I do, but we should wait a minute or two. If Fudge stays true to form, he should be blustering in here soon, terrified that you're plotting to usurp his position." Harry answered wryly.

Bones raised a eyebrow in sardonic amusement and nodded her agreement.

Fudge did indeed bluster in a minute later, though he seemed to be under the mistaken impression that Harry was being arrested for the use of Parseltongue or something and had come to protest. The Ministry rumor mill was just as bad as the one at Hogwarts.

"Cornelius." Harry cut through the man's blustering. "I appreciate you coming to my defense, but I'm not in any kind of legal trouble. I only came to speak to Madam Bones on an unrelated issue."

"Oh." Fudge said, nonplussed and not sure what to do with himself now. "Perhaps I should stay for your discussion? I am the Minister of Magic after all."

In other words, Fudge still hadn't shifted mental gears and was worried that the discussion would result in something that would make him look bad.

"We already have a meeting scheduled today to talk about the same issue, Cornelius." Harry reminded him. "It would be better done in private."

"Oh, yes, of course." Fudge backtracked. "I'll leave you to it then."

"You play him like a harp." Bones said, shaking her head.

"Fudge is a whore, the only thing separating him from one you'd find on the street is the service he provides and the means of payment." Harry replied sardonically, making the DMLE Director snort.

"Right. Now that our 'dear' Minister is gone, what did you want to talk about?"

"I'd like your support in pushing some legislation through the Wizengamot. I have a summary right here." Harry said bluntly, taking a roll of parchment that Narcissa had prepared from his pocket and placing it on the desk.

Bones did not look at it, merely gazed back at him stonefaced, though Harry could tell that she was a bit...disappointed.

"Is this why you funded my department then, to buy my support?"

"Not at all, I just happen to think that you would be in favor of this bit of legislation and wanted to talk to you about it ahead of time. Whether you agree to support me in this or not won't affect the flow of gold to your department."

Bones finally looked at the parchment and her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she read through it.

"The Wizengamot will never endorse this." She stated unequivocally. "For one, it would cost quite a bit of gold to set up, gold that they won't be willing to set aside for werewolves."

"I'll be talking to Fudge about funding once we're done here, see if I can't convince him to pull money away from some of the more useless departments. Plus, I'll be donating a substantial amount of my own money for it, so maybe there will be other volunteers." His reclaimed vineyard and the girls' clothing store were making a steady profit now, so he could afford to spend some cash. It would dip into his reserves of course, but not disastrously so.

"Werewolf legislation has become more restrictive than ever under the Fudge administration, he won't be happy to support anything that gives them more rights." Bones pointed out.

"Fudge will support anything that he thinks will make him look good and he's barely intelligent enough to put his clothes on every morning." Harry countered.

Bones was silent for a few moments before speaking again. "Alright, let's say that you can get Fudge to support this. Even with both him and me backing you, there's no guarantee that it will get passed into law. A legislation like this would make Britain very appealing for werewolves and nobody wants a mass of werewolf immigrants causing trouble in their country, that's why nobody wants to be the first to loosen the restrictions on them."

"I'm not saying we treat them as if they aren't dangerous." Harry shrugged. "By all means, keep an eye on them, but treating them like criminals because of their condition does nothing but turn them into criminals simply because they have no other choice. Hopefully I can make the Wizengamot see that."

"And if you can't?"

"Then nothing changes."

 _Except catching Fenrir Greyback's interest, hopefully._

XXXXX

After the talk with Bones, collecting Etal from Dora, bamboozling Fudge with talk of being known as the greatest Minister of Magic to have ever lived, the Minister to have figured out a solution to the werewolf problem, if he supported Harry's new werewolf legislation, Harry was more than ready to get back home.

Unfortunately, there was one more thing that had to be done. If people could be relied upon to do one thing, it was to gossip. He had no doubt that by now, the Atrium was choked with reporters looking to corner Harry Potter the Parselmouth and get a statement from him. It also helped that he had dropped Skeeter a tip that she should consider spending a little time in the Atrium today. As much as he would have liked to blow them off, he knew that he needed to give them that statement or they'd start making up stories.

Out of habit, he took a deep breath and drew on the Dark to freeze out his slight nervousness.

As soon as he did so, Etal hissed violently and tightened his coils around his neck.

The unexpected attack broke his focus and Harry grabbed at the green-scaled body, trying to pull it away from his neck.

" _What are you doing?_ " He hissed urgently.

Etal loosened his coils and floated so that they were face to face. " _There was Darkness._ "

" _Yes, I know._ " Harry hissed irritably, rubbing at his sore neck. " _I call upon it to calm myself sometimes._ "

Etal was quiet for a long moment before speaking again.

" _Do not call upon it again, it has no place within the living._ "

" _I can handle it._ "

" _You cannot._ "

The uncompromising statement made Harry pause. He had a feeling that Etal would abandon him if he was ignored on this. Abruptly, he was reminded of Fawkes and of the phoenix's aversion to him during the pre-dawn hours when he waited to greet the Sun back in Hogwarts. He already knew that his connection to the Void made him colder and more prone to taking lives. It had been as dangerous as it was useful, but he had thought that he had an understanding of it. Now he wasn't sure anymore. This required some further thought.

" _Is this why you hated Ophelia so much?_ " He asked.

" _The cold one does not belong._ "

The lift stopped then, having reached the Atrium and Harry had to deal with the crowd of reporters that had been waiting for him. He answered the most pertinent of their questions, but most of his mind was on what Etal had told him.

XXXXX

 _July 11th._

"Your paper, Master Harry." Kreacher said, handing the _Daily Prophet_ to Harry during breakfast.

"Thank you, Kreacher." Harry said as the elf popped away. "Now let's see what those numbskulls said about my little stunt yesterday."

"This should be good." Sirius said with a chuckle, echoing everyone's thoughts.

"Harry Potter, a Parseltongue?" Harry read the title, snorting derisively. "I'm a parsel _mouth,_ you nitwits. Parseltongue is the language."

"So the British are illiterate? What a surprise." Fleur mocked.

"I wish I could disagree with you, but the evidence is mounting. What else do we have here... Quezalcotatl? Wow, way to butcher the word. Grade A journalism right there."

" _They dare?!"_ Etal hissed indignantly.

" _It is less a question of daring than it is of stupidity._ " Harry replied.

"What else did they get wrong?" Sirius promped, leaning forward eagerly.

"Mythical magical creature...they got that part right at least. Familiar...sign of great power...a load of baseless speculation, par the course for the _Prophet_. Some more speculation, this time on how I'm related to Salazar Slytherin, as if that's the only possible way to get Parseltongue, bunch of idiots."

"Well, it seems I managed to stop the press from making too many Voldemort comparisons at least." Harry said once he got to the end of the article. "Penny, is there anything on the schedule today?"

"Fred and George Weasley have invited you to take a look at their soon-to-be-opened joke shop in Diagon Alley."

"Ah, I almost forgot about that. Anyone want to come along?"

"I'm game." Sirius said immediately, eyes shining with the promise of mischief.

XXXXX

Diagon Alley was usually only crowded in the month leading up to September 1st, but Harry suspected that he, Sirius and Etal would have no shortage of personal space even if this was that time, not with the wide berth everyone was giving them.

"Damn, you'd think you threatened to kill their mothers or something." Sirius muttered.

Harry simply shrugged. He'd been getting this kind of treatment ever since he'd killed Lucius, though it was admittedly back to full strength now, whereas it had been fading before. Though he did get a kick out of the wide-eyed awe on the faces of the one or two pre-firsties that were doing their shopping early.

Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes stood among the other buildings like bonfire, it's bright storefront searing to the eye.

"I like their style." Sirius said with a grin.

"You would." Harry muttered and knocked on the door.

There was a cluttering noise and then the door was opened by one of the Weasley twins.

"Well if it isn't our generous benefactor!" Fred, or possibly George, said. "Gred, Harrykins is here!"

"Well what are you waiting for then? Invite him in." The apparent Gred yelled back.

Harry and Sirius stepped into the shop and looked around. It still looked a bit chaotic, but well on its way to being ready for the grand opening.

"First-"

"- let us just say-"

"-how much we enjoyed-"

"-your prank on the Ministy-"

"-nay, the whole country-"

"-the other day." The twins said by way of greeting.

"I'm not sure if that counts as a prank." Harry said skeptically.

"Of course it does, anything that throws people counts as a prank." Sirius assured him.

"You should listen to your godfather, Harry."

"Indeed, my handsome brother, he speaks most wisely."

"Right, if you say so. How are things coming along?"

"Pretty good, we should be ready to open in a couple of weeks at the latest."

"Would have been sooner, but Mum insisted that we finish our NEWTs."

"We figured we might as well do that much for our mother since we intend to disappoint her hopes that we'll get 'a nice job in the Ministry like your father and Percy'."

Harry nodded in understanding even though he didn't actually understand. Had he been in Fred and George's shoes he would have probably refused to sit his NEWTs out of spite. A woman as overbearing and bossy as Molly Weasley seemed to be would have quickly exhausted his patience. Maybe it was one of those incomprehensible family dynamics that he'd never understood? Whatever.

"Man I wish we had some of this stuff back in our Marauder days." Sirius said nostalgically, looking at all the interesting looking doodads. "Zonko's is alright, but you boys have some real talent."

The twins had frozen into stillness as soon as Sirius had mentioned the Marauders, staring at him with wide eyes. "Are you saying...that _you_ were a Marauder?"

"You've heard of us then?" Sirius asked, grinning widely at having his pranking genius recognised. "Padfoot, at your service."

This revelation was followed by a good five minutes of gushing on the part of the twins, with Sirius being more than happy to indulge his new fans. Eventually, the talk circled around to how the two of them found the Marauder's Map in Filch's office during their first year.

"We gave it to Ginny when we graduated." Fred said apologetically. "We would've given it to Ron, but we figured that he didn't need any distractions since he's going to be repeating fifth year alongside Ginny. Mum was not happy about that, let me tell you."

Harry snorted slightly. That sounded like Ron alright. He hadn't paid much attention to the youngest Weasley boy, especially in his last year in Hogwarts, but he'd seen and heard enough about his work ethic to know that he was a prime candidate for a repeat year.

"I'm sure Ginny would return it if we wrote her and explained the situation." George offered.

Sirius looked at his godson with a raised eyebrow. "What do you think, Harry? That map is essentially part of your inheritance."

Harry considered it for a moment and then shook his head. "Nah, let Ginny have it. I'm not that sentimental and it won't do me any good anymore."

"Are you sure? What about for your own kids when you have them?"

That made him pause. Harry hadn't really considered that angle. The idea of legacy didn't mean much to him personally. So what if the Houses of Potter and Black died with him? He'd be dead and not in a state to care anymore.

His girls probably would want kids eventually though.

He was in a rather odd situation as far as possible offspring went actually. Luna and Fleur were there to stay, that much was obvious, and if they had their way Dora would be shacking up with them too. Polygamous marriages weren't a terribly big deal among wizards, especially when two Houses converged like they had with him, but they weren't exactly common either. The muggleborn were poisoned against the notion by the prejudices of the mundane world and purebloods had such a limited population that there really wasn't enough people to go around for polygamy to be viable. That wasn't even mentioning that few wizards or witches had the power and force of personality required to keep such an arrangement from imploding into jealous power plays. It worked flawlessly with Fleur and Luna because one was a veela and the other was the most open minded person that Harry had ever heard of.

 _Alright, let's assume Dora is brought back into the fold and all three want kids._

Fleur wouldn't want her daughters going to Hogwarts with the rampant prejudice against anything that wasn't a pureblood and Harry couldn't blame her for it. He wouldn't fight if she wanted to send them to Beuxbatons instead. Hell, he might even choose to homeschool them. Luna and Dora probably wouldn't have any objections to sending their kids to Hogwarts, but would they want to be separated from their half-siblings?

Harry had never realised what a mess this could turn into.

"Let her keep it until she graduates, then have her give it to me." He finally said. When in doubt, take every advantage you can. Besides, that map was an interesting bit of enchanting.

"Thanks, Harry." Fred said in relief. "We weren't looking forward to telling Ginny that she has to give the map up after how happy she was when we gave it to her."

XXXXX

 _July 12th._

Septima Vector sighed to herself as the water in her tub started getting cold. She could have used magic to heat it back up of course, but she'd been lazing around like this for a couple of hours already and was getting a bit peckish.

So she got out of the tub, dried off and put on a fluffy bathrobe.

Any thoughts about what kind of snack she wanted to fix herself went out the window as she was grabbed from behind and a hand was placed over her mouth to muffle her screams.

After the initial panic subsided, Septima realised that this was a very familiar situation and a very familiar scarred hand over her mouth.

Fear made way for indignation as she twisted around in the unresisting embrace and started pounding her fist on the man's chest.

"Why. Do. You. Keep. Doing. This!" She ranted, punctuating every word with a hit while she hid her face in the home invader's chest.

"Because it's funny." Harry said, the smug bastard.

She hit him again. Then she pulled him down by the collar and kissed him.

"How did you find out where I live anyway?" She asked once that was done. With it being summer, she wasn't staying in Hogwarts at the moment, but at her little-used house.

"Oh, I have my ways." He replied mysteriously.

Septima felt an excited flutter in her lower abdomen at his smirk.

"Did you come to play?" She whispered, biting her lower lip rubbing her thighs together.

"Actually, I'm here with a business proposition for you."

"Oh." Septima tried not to sound too disappointed, but she was. "What kind of business proposition?"

"You remember our discussion about the communication mirrors?" He asked, working his fingers into the collar of her robe and trailing them over her shoulders and collar bone.

"Of course." She answered with her breath catching a little at the touches. Perhaps she'd be getting the fucking she'd been hoping for after all.

"Well I found the right materials and managed to make them work."

Septima was briefly distracted from her rising lust by that revelation. "That's amazing, Harry."

"So it is." He agreed smugly. "But now I find myself needing a lot of employees if I'm going to make a business out of this new discovery, employees that are reasonably good at both Arithmancy and Runes, or can at least be trained in short order."

Septima's breath caught as he pushed the robe off her right shoulder and stepped into her, his other hand wrapping gently around her neck.

"And?" She whispered thickly, already feeling herself moistening with arousal.

"And I thought, 'who better than my old Arithmancy professor to both find such people and to manage them?'."

"You want me to come work for you?" She asked in surprise.

"Of course." He purred, leaning forward so that his lips were at her ear. The hand tightened on her throat, and the sense of him having power over her only served to make her more wet.

"But Hogwarts...?" She protested feebly, her mind focused on more carnal matters than her professorship at the ancient school.

"I'll pay you more."

Septima gasped raggedly when she felt fingers trailing up her thigh and teeth nibbling on her exposed shoulder. "It's not about...the pay."

He backed off then and Septima's libido wailed in protest.

"You like it at Hogwarts that much then?" He asked neutrally.

Septima desperately wracked her brain for a truthful answer that would get her the results she wanted.

"It's where I've been for more than half my life now." She admitted fretfully, looking at the floor. She knew how sad that sounded, a witch over forty and she had barely done any living. During the school year she taught and during the holidays she mostly stayed at home and read a few books. Those few months spent being Harry's personal fucktoy were the most exciting in her life and wasn't that depressing?

Harry simply nodded, grabbed her wrist and started pulling her long.

"Where are we going?" Septima asked, but did not resist.

"To make an honest woman out of you." Harry said bluntly.

Septima blinked in shock. He couldn't seriously mean...?

"You're dragging me off to get married?" There was no hiding the incredulity and disbelief in her tone.

"Don't be ridiculous." He scoffed. "Marriage has nothing to do with honesty, stupid expression really. No, you've crawled back into your comfortable rut while I've been gone and I'm going to drag you out of it again. Before the night is over, you're going to stop hiding and give me an honest answer."

Septima felt the arousal return tenfold at his authoritative behavior and she followed along obediently, even eagerly.

He took her to her own bedroom, which only served to excite her more. She was nearly vibrating with anticipation when he turned to face her.

"Take the robe off." Harry ordered.

She was quick to obey, untying the middle, shucking it off her shoulders and then kicking it away

He stared at her nude body silently with his penetrating emerald eyes and Septima nervously covered her breasts and groin with her hands.

"I didn't say you could hide." He warned and she took her hands away as if scalded. Her crotch tingled with arousal.

The silent stare seemed to go on forever and Septima had to struggle not to fidget. Her thoughts raced all over the place, wondering what he was waiting for. _Am I supposed to do something?_

He shifted slightly and she saw the bulge in his pants.

She bit her lip, wanting to take care of that. A glance at his eyes showed that they were dark with desire and she decided to chance it.

His continued silence as she approached encouraged her. By the time that she had dropped to her knees in front of him and started undoing his belt, she was confident that this was what he wanted.

The familiar musky scent of his freed manhood set a fire between her legs and she indulged in a few deep breaths before taking it into her mouth.

The hand petting her hair encouraged her even more and she performed enthusiastically, suppresing the gag reflex just like he'd taught her and taking him in all the way to the base.

A few minutes of fellatio later, Septima recognised the telltale twitches that signaled his impending climax and redoubled her efforts. Just before he came, she backed up so that only his crown remained in her mouth and pumped his shaft vigourously. Usually, he would climax down her throat, but she wanted to feel his seed filling up her mouth and coating her tongue.

She groaned alongside him when it happened and swallowed the sticky, viscous, salty-sweet discarge one spurt at a time. It tasted even better than she remembered, so either she had missed it that much or Harry had made his diet even fruitier.

Septima made sure to clean off every last drop and looked up at him expectantly.

"I suppose you want a reward now?" Harry asked rhetorically.

Septima blushed and nodded basfully.

"You think you deserve one?"

Her eyes snapped back up to his.

"What?" She asked, confused.

"It's a simple question, Septima. Do you think you deserve a reward?"

Septima floundered for an answer. He had enjoyed the blowjob, that much was certainly obvious thanks to the leftover taste in her mouth, but did it merit a reward?

"Um, no?" She asked more than said, having no confidence in her answer and deciding to err on the side of caution as a result.

"Well if you don't think you deserve a reward then I won't give you one." Harry said and pulled her back on her feet.

"But-" She tried to protest, castigating herself for screwing herself out of a reward with her hesitation.

"No buts. If you think you haven't earned a reward, then it's clearly a punishment you deserve."

Despite wanting to know what the reward would have been, Septima perked up. Punishments could be just as good as rewards sometimes.

Her excitement increased as he commanded her to go to the bed and lay on her back and then increased further still as he bound her hands and feet in spread eagle position.

As he undressed and knelt between her legs, she wondered how exactly this was a punishment. As he places spells on her nipples so that they would feel an echo of what was happening further south, she wondered even more. By the time that he lowered his face to her crotch and started putting his hard-earned skills at cunnilingus to work, she had long since stopped wondering when the punishment was going to come.

Septima gasped for air as she felt her orgasm approaching and bucked her hips towards him in an instinctive desire for more.

And then he stopped, pulling back and leaving her hovering on the edge.

"Now, why don't you tell me what's so great about Hogwarts that you'd want to stay there?"

" _Harry!_ " She whined.

"Answer the question, Septima." He ordered, giving her clitoris a little rub.

Septima made a noise of frustrated desperation and tried to think through her lust, hoping that he would give her the release she needed if she answered.

"Because...because..." She tried, having trouble finding the words.

"Yes?" he prompted, sending a sudden sharp burst of feeling into the little nub that nonetheless failed to bring her over the edge.

Septima squealed, any thoughts of Hogwarts or why she was staying there obliterated.

"Come on, Septima. I won't let you have any relief until I'm satisfied with your answers."

XXXXX

 _Three hours later_.

Septima sobbed with relief as Harry finally entered her. She didn't even notice as her restraints were untied, merely clinging to him and crying into his chest while he thrust into her and allowed her the long denied orgasm. The feeling of his seed spilling into her was more glorious than anything she'd ever felt.

It had been maddening, being kept on the edge of orgasm for hours on end while he asked inane questions. What was her favorite part of Hogwarts? Were the other teachers close friends? Did she talk to the house elves or the ghosts? Did she like toast? What were her feelings about Dumbledore?

On and on it went until she thought she was going to die. She didn't even have the buttplug to clench around, having removed it before her bath.

She'd begged and pleaded for him to fuck her with every other breath, but Harry was unmoved and simply demanded answers while manipulating her nerves mercilessly.

After hours of this torture, Septima had finally admitted, to both Harry and herself, that she was just staying in Hogwarts out of habit, because it was safe and she was too scared to try anything new. She'd gone to work there during the war and felt safe because of Dumbledore. When the war was over she had no idea what to do with herself and simply stuck with it because it was safe, until she'd become more Professor Vector than Septima.

"See, now you're an honest woman." Harry said cheekily.

Septima sobbed out a laugh, still shaking from the force of her horribly delayed climax.

"So, will you come work for me?"

Septima nodded. Now that Harry had stripped away all the falsehoods with his unique approach, she could see the rut she'd been in and how soulcrushing it had been. This communication mirror project of his was very interesting and being in charge of a team of enchanters as they polished it up was very appealing.

"Excellent." Harry said, grinning. "I'll pick you up tomorrow and we'll hammer out an employment contract for you."

"I still need to tell the Headmaster that I'm resigning." She pointed out tiredly.

"Ah, the day after tomorrow then."

Septima nodded and looked him in the eye. "Do I get a reward now?"

"I don't know, you think you deserve one?" Harry asked with a smirk.

His cheek gave her a sudden idea. It might be the last time that she'd get a chance to act this way and didn't want to waste it. "Actually, I think you deserve a detention, Potter."

Harry's eyebrows shot upward at her sudden authoritative tone. Then he grinned. "And what will I be doing during my detention, Professor? Writing lines?"

Septima wiggled around and turned onto her stomach.

"Fucking my arse. Get to it, and don't you dare stop until I say you can stop."

She felt him cast a few quick spells, notably the familiar lubrication ones, and then his hard member was sliding into her favorite hole.

"You know, this is one of my old fantasies about you." He grunted once he was hilted all the way inside. "The naughty detention with the anally fixated professor. Too bad it's not a classroom though."

Septima sighed contently as he started thrusting. With the abuse he'd subjected her poor nerves to, it was unlikely that she'd be having another orgasm anytime soon, but she could still enjoy the feeling of his cock filling up her bum.

"Glad I could oblige." She murmured tiredly.

"Don't get used to being in charge though. You'll be working for me soon, to do with as I see fit."

Septima shivered. She couldn't wait.

XXXXX

 _July 13th._

"Come in, Septima." Albus called cheerfully as he sensed the techer's presence outside his door.

The Arithmancy professor entered and took the offered seat, refusing the offered lemon drop as usual. Everyone always refused his lemon drops.

"What can I do for you on this fine day?" Albus asked, trying to figure out what it was about the woman that was a bit different today. She seemed... _more_ , somehow.

"I won't beat around the bush, Headmaster, I've received another job offer and I've decided to accept. I'm resigning my professorship at Hogwarts." Septima said.

Albus blinked in surprise. That was definitely not what he had expected from the normally demure Arithmancy professor.

"You understand that this puts me into something of a bind with regards to your post? Finding a suitable replacement before the start of term will be difficult." He said, hoping to persuade her to stay. She really was an excellent professor and he had enough trouble filling the DADA spot every year.

"I'm sure there are plenty of arithmancers that would be glad to take my place. I will even provide them my lesson plans to help them acclimate, but my resignation stands."

"I see." Albus frowned slightly. "May I inquire as to the nature of your prospective new employment?"

Albus didn't wait for her to answer and instead skimmed over her thoughts with Legilimency. Only long experience in scanning people like this prevented his eyes from bulging in shock.

He saw Harry offering her a job, and then the multitude of memories connected to the offer. Memories of the two of them engaging in sexual intercourse stretching back for more than a year, well into the time when such activity was illegal due to their teacher/student relationship.

Moreover, Septima's feelings were full of gleeful submission to the forceful young wizard as he took her in any way he pleased, happy to be used to satisfy whatever whim struck him. She was in fact using the toy he'd given her at this very moment, privately (or so she thought) relishing the idea that she had a steel buttplug massaging her rectum while talking to the most powerful wizard in the British Isles.

"I would rather keep that to myself for now, Headmaster." Septima said.

"Yes, of course." Albus said, his mask not cracking in the slightest. "I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavours."

She left then, leaving Albus alone with his thoughts. How had he missed this? And what was Harry up to?

XXXXX

 _July 30th._

Fleur looked over at her shapeshifting friend with wry exasperation.

"Are you going to frown the whole day?"

Tonks looked back at the veela with a slight scowl and then sighed. "No, it's just...gah! I just don't feel like throwing Harry a birthday party right now!"

"You know that 'e only provokes you because 'e must." Fleur soothed.

"Yeah, I figured as much when he told me to morph into my own mother and flash him. Well I figured it out after he forced me to sit down and meditate when all I wanted to do was kick his teeth in, but it still pisses me off. He _knows_ how degrading it is for someone to ask me to do stuff like that."

"That is why 'e did it no doubt."

"Yeah, but still..."

"'E does feel bad about it if it makes you feel any better." Fleur said commiseratingly. "It takes me almost ten minutes to get 'im in the mood for sex after one of your sessions."

Tonks snorted in amusement in spite of herself. Trust a veela to measure how bad someone feels by how long it takes to get them randy.

"Did he teach you and Luna the same way?"

" _Non,_ not quite. My problem is with control rather than with expression and Luna's emotions work a little differently. The Joining also helps."

Tonks was a bit startled by that. "He never said anything about that to me."

"Of course 'e didn't, after the way you two split up 'e did not want to make you think that he was pressuring you let 'im Join with you."

"That's kind of considerate of him I guess." Tonks grudgingly admitted. "I'm still mad at him though."

"We will insist that 'e drinks then and you can make fun of anything stupid 'e does." Fleur suggested with a smirk.

In truth, she was hoping that the combination of alcohol and certain full contact games would lead to a hot foursome. Nymphadora had been pacing around like a shy but clearly interested cat for long enough already and it was past time to force some progress. Plus, once the metamorphmagus was brought into the relationship, Harry could start using the Joining to aid in teaching her instead of doing everything the hard way.

"There's an idea." Tonks said with a grin. "It's probably the only way we'll ever get Harry drunk."

Fleur made a sound of derision before speaking." That much is certain, considering that we will 'ave to drag 'im out of the basement on 'is own birthday."

The two witches continued their shopping trip, picking up mostly booze and cooking chocolate. Fleur wanted chocolate liquor as well as a few other types of alcohol that didn't burn your mouth when drunk. They were doing their shopping in a mundane supermarket because wizards had the unfortunate habit of adding magic to nearly everything and mixing different types of enchantments was generally not a good idea if you didn't know the effects. Plus, the mundane world offered more variety.

The snacks would be left in the hands of Teeny and Kreacher, who would have been mortified at having their job usurped. Fortunately, the house elves were happy to play along even if Harry hadn't given them any orders to start preparing for a party. He hadn't given any orders forbidding it either after all.

The uneventful shopping trip was interrupted when they were waylaid.

Fleur had just spotted a bottle of Malibu brand rum that she'd never had but which looked interesting and tried to take it. Unfortunately, it was on the top shelf and a bit to the back, so it was just slightly out of reach. She had been just about to ask if Nymphadora could make herself a little taller and get it for her when someone reached over her, grabbed the bottle and handed it to her.

"Here you go." The helpful stranger said, standing just a bit too close to be merely helpful.

He was a tall young man that obviously made frequent visits to a gym. By most standards, he would have been considered quite handsome, but he had no magic and was therefore about as attractive to Fleur as a chair or a lamp.

" _Merci_." She said with a polite smile.

"My pleasure." The guy said, smiling down at her and stepping back only barely enough to not be considered rude. "So, you two girls having a party?"

"Yep." Tonks said, amused. Both she and Fleur were wearing jean shorts and tank tops, so male attention was a given, but she also knew that this blatant attempt at a come-on was doomed to failure.

"Cool." He nodded, upping the wattage on his smile. "Listen, a few of us were thinking of throwing our own party, but we'd be glad to pitch in and join yours if that's okay. I'm Eric by the way."

"Well, Eric, I'm afraid you lack the necessary attributes to party with us. Isn't that right, Nymmie?" Fleur purred, getting an idea. These would-be casanovas that she sometimes had to deal with were usually a minor annoyance that was simply part of every veela's life, but this one presented a little opportunity.

"Sure is." The metamorphmagus confirmed with a grin, not commenting on the nickname. It was better than Nymphadora at least.

"I think you'll find I have plenty of attributes." Eric countered cockily. "Try me."

Fleur had been tacitly referring to magic, but she could hardly say that. Instead, she stuck her fingers into the waistband of Nymphadora's jean shorts and pulled her into a kiss.

Tonks made a muffled noise of surprise at being kissed out of nowhere, but found herself returning it anyway. Fleur was a damned good kisser. Very French, with lots of tongue.

They separated quickly and smirked at the stunned look on the guy's face.

"See, wrong attributes." Fleur said smugly.

Eric stared for a moment longer, briefly scowled at Tonks' pink hair and then turned away with a mutter. "Should've know you were bloody dykes."

Fleur narrowed her eyes at the retreating man's back, now quite irritated.

"Don't do it." Tonks said to her friend out of the corner of her mouth.

But Fleur did do it, carefully channeling her anger at the insult into a magical push, just like Harry had taught her.

Eric suddenly felt as if someone had shoved him to the side and he went stumbling into the shelves full of alcohol. With a loud crash, dozens of bottles shattered on the floor.

The two witches laughed as he held his head in horror while hundreds of pounds worth of booze was destroyed.

"You shouldn't have done that." Tonks said once they were away from the scene of the crime, sobering up quickly.

"'E deserved it." Fleur sniffed disdainfully.

"Maybe, but muggle baiting is illegal for a reason."

"You can spank me for it later," Fleur waved off blithely, pushing the shopping cart forward. "now come on, we still have a few things to buy."

Tonks gave into the urge to give a hard slap to the veela's arse, smirking at her surprised yelp.

"No crime goes unpunished when Auror Tonks is on the job." She said pompously.

XXXXX

 _July 31st._

Harry was in the basement of Potter Manor, working on one of his projects. Specifically, it was on the handgun he'd gotten from Ophelia.

Magically silencing it had been easy enough, as had binding it so that nobody except him could use it. There was also the usual Notice-Me-Not on it to keep from being noticed. Really, a gun required very little enchanting with how deadly it was to start with, thought it would be interesting to play around with. The only really critical issue was ammunition.

Ophelia had given him a few clips of standard ammo as well as a holster for it, but those bullets would be used up quickly and they were a lot harder to buy in Britain than in the US. True, he could apparate there, but Harry wanted a better solution.

To that end, he'd been trying to see if he could enchant the clips to automatically conjure new bullets.

The answer to that was a resounding no. A bullet was more than just a bit of lead, it was in fact considerably more complex than it looked. Conjuring it was out of the question, much less automatically.

Duplication had possibilities however. The Gemino Charm was basically Conjuration lite, and required far less focus since the caster already had something to use as a template, reducing the mental workload greatly. The duplicated items also lasted much longer.

If he could imbue a clip with a refined enough Gemino Charm, using a real bullet as a base, it should theoretically work.

Of course, if his spellwork wasn't good enough, the gun was liable to either not fire at all or explode in his hand, so he was not exactly eager to experiment. Even if he used magic to pull the trigger remotely, he'd still be short a gun if he screwed up.

And the only way he knew of to procure another, short of stealing it from somewhere, would be through Ophelia.

He did not want to go anywhere near the vampire right now, or perhaps ever again.

He had let his guard down around her. Like a bloody idiot, he had forgotten what she was for a little while and she had pounced on him like a lion on an antelope.

That strange sense of need, of dependency that he had felt in the wake of her bite...that had left him quickly enough, but his fury hadn't. Fury at her for trying it and fury at himself for being a damned fool. He'd carried on as if Ophelia was just another shady acquaintance – he seemed to be making quite a few of those – or maybe a glittering fairy. Fucking Stephenie Meyer, at this point he wouldn't even be surprised if someone told him that she worked for the vampires, spreading romanticised bullshit to make them look more approachable to angsty teens. Fucking Twilight, and fucking Hollywood too. And fucking Fifty Shades of Grey just for good measure, because it portrayed a completely fucked up version of a proper BDSM relationship. He'd skimmed through it in search of a few fun ideas and quickly concluded that it was a story about the emotional manipulation and breakdown of a naivé and inexperienced girl. He should know, having some experience in the field of emotional manipulation. The best part was that the author didn't seem to realise what she'd written. Fucking hilarious.

Speaking of BDSM relationships, Septima was doing a great job tracking down some of her old students and getting them to come work for him. A few were wary of coming to work for the Great and Dreaded Harry Potter, Speaker to Snakes and Burner of Malfoys, and some others already had other stuff going on or had left the country, but he'd be able to get things started soon enough at this rate.

Fleur and Luna had been hinting that they'd like to play with the former Arithmancy professor too. Well, Fleur had been hinting, Luna had just straight out said it, bless her blunt tongue. He wasn't sure how Septima felt about girls, but Fleur now had enough control to not use the Joining instinctively, so he could indulge them. Eventually. Worst case scenario, Septima would just use her assigned safeword for the first time ever. Harry was rather proud of himself for having such a good feeling for her limits that she'd never needed to. Even the recent 'torture' he'd put her through had not been anything she couldn't handle.

Dora's training was going well too, though it was also straining their friendship due to the methods he had to employ. Emotions were the key, the bridge between body, mind and soul. Proper control of them was crucial to a true mastery of magic. It was just unfortunate that dredging up emotions was generally an unpleasant process that people resented. Dora was more than smart enough to realise he was trying to help her, but she was not happy with him all the same.

Harry was upset about that, because he still cared for the perky metamorphmagus. He hoped the gift he had arranged for her would help soothe ruffled feathers. It wasn't really a bribe since he would have given it to her anyway and Luna and Fleur were getting their own, but she should still be pleased enough with it to forgive him for deliberately lancing at her sore spots. Hopefully.

He sighed to himself as he felt the alarm spell on the door go off. _I guess it was too much to hope for that they'd let my birthday pass by without notice._

Holidays and birthdays seemed to get more annoying and pointless every year. To him at least, everyone else still liked them.

"'Arry?" Fleur called out.

"What's up?" He asked.

"Come with me, I 'ave something to show you." She said eagerly, grabbing his hand and dragging him away from his desk.

"I don't suppose it's something completely unconnected to the day I came into this world, covered in blood and screaming after ripping my mother open?" Harry asked blandly, letting himself be dragged.

"Must you be so morbid?" Fleur asked in exasperation. "It's your birthday!"

"I'm being extra morbid to counter the excessive forced cheer of everyone else."

"Well I won't 'ave it." The veela said snootily. "Today, you are going to enjoy yourself. You only turn sixteen once after all."

"Yes, you also only turn every other age only once, that's how linear time works."

Fleur turned to him with a look of utter exasperation. "'Arry, shut up, come along and smile."

Harry stretched his mouth into a horrid parody of a smile that looked more like the rictus grin of a bleached skull.

"Close enough." She said, rolling her eyes.


	35. Chapter 35

**The extended, extra pervy lemon in this chapter is dedicated to the reviewer from chapter 33 that said there was too much sex in the story. Mind you, the porn would have been there either way, but now I have someone to dedicate it to. 'Tis a good day.**

 **Thanks got to Joe Lawyer for being a great beta.**

XXXXX

Despite Harry's attitude towards birthdays, the party ended up being rather enjoyable.

Of course, that could have something to do with the amount of alcohol Fleur and Luna plied everyone with, Harry especially, knowing as they did about his magically enhanced liver.

He was reluctant of course, but with everyone egging him on to drink, he did so just to shut them up.

And so it went, drink after drink, with Harry unable to really tell how much alcohol he was imbibing thanks to Fleur's selection of drinks, none of which produced the characteristic burning sensation of hard liquor, but were instead mixed into things that gave it a pleasant sweetness.

Once everyone was sufficiently sloshed, the crafty veela produced a Twister mat, making sure that Harry and Tonks especially spent a lot of time in compromising positions.

Knowing that Harry's liver would be working overtime to purge the alcohol, she made sure that he had a cup in hand near constantly, which also contributed to the continued inebriation of everyone else.

Sirius in particular was a victim of this, starting off as jocular, going to outragesly flirty and finally progressing to the point that the damage from Azkaban started showing up as he began referring to Harry as James and talking as if they were alive.

By then thoroughly inebriated, Harry had decided that his delusional godfather needed to be put to bed and stumbled off with him towards the man's room.

Fleur knew an opportunity when she saw it and volunteered herself, as well as Nymphadora and Luna to help him.

Penelope and Narcissa, the only other two people present and the only ones that had managed to retain any level of sobriety, could only exchange looks, knowing exactly what was going to happen as soon as Sirius was in bed. Fleur had stopped being subtle about her attempts to engineer 'accidental' gropings between Harry, Tonks, Luna and herself quite a while ago.

"Did you shee the titsh on that blonde bird, Prongs?" Sirius slurred, hanging on to his godson for dear life.

"Which one, Padfoot?" Harry asked, considerably less drunk and deciding to play along.

"The pretty one." Sirius clarified. "They were like...like...real nice."

"They sure were." Harry agreed, amused. Fleur _did_ have nice tits.

Holding up Sirius' other side, the veela in question bit her lip to stifle a giggle. Out of the five people present, she was the least drunk and found this situation terribly amusing.

"What shay we both have a go at 'er, like we did with that shixth year, what was 'er name again?"

"I think I'll keep her all to myself instead." Harry said, winking at Fleur over Sirius' head.

This time the veela did giggle.

"You bashtard." The dog animagus slurred in drunken indignation. "You already have Lily, it's againsht the rules to hog so many fine women."

"What rules?"

"The...the rules!" Sirius snapped confusingly.

"Look, Sirius." Harry said, pointing at the man's bed instead of replying to that. "There's a veela waiting for you."

"Veela?" Sirius perked up, looking at the clearly empty bed instead of at the actual veela supporting his left side. "Where?"

"She's hiding under my invisibility cloak, naked and ready. All you need to do is find her."

Needing no further prompting, Sirius dived for the bed in search of the promised prize and blacked out as soon as he was horizontal, fists still making grabbing motions as if to pull the invisibility cloak off the non-existent veela.

"That was mean." Fleur giggled.

"He'll get over it." Harry asserted and aggressively kissed her, much to her enjoyment.

"What happened to Dora and Luna." Harry asked in confusion, noticing that they had lost the two girls somewhere along the way.

Fleur perked up, recalling her plan after briefly being tempted to just pull Harry to the ground and fuck him at the foot of his godfather's bed.

"Luna took Nymmie to where she'll be sleeping." She said, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the master bedroom.

"That was nice of her." Harry said, forgetting that the last sight he'd had of the two girls was of them playing tonsil hockey with each other.

"Yes, it was."

The two of them made their way to the master bedroom, making frequent stops to grope and kiss along the way. In the process of doing this, they managed to knock two paintings off the walls, bump a two hundred year old vase that had been a gift for his grandparents' wedding from its stand and rip a set of curtains from the panels. They never noticed the two house elves dutifully following behind and catching things before they hit the ground.

They burst through the door of the master bedroom with no more subtlety than they had used to get to that point, badly startling the two young women that had already made their way there previously.

"Luna? Dora?" Harry asked owlishly, staring at the two girls. They had obviously been in the middle of a heavy snogging session that had been well on its was to something more given their half dressed state, but it seemed that his and Fleur's entrance had made the metamorphmagus disengage. Luna merely pouted, her lips a bit swollen and her eyes bright.

"Harry." Tonks stammered, embarrassed for some reason she couldn't identify. Maybe it was the fact that her pants were unbuttoned and her tank top halfway over her head, or maybe it was the fact that she'd been fooling around with one of his girlfriends.

Fleur might have been hornier than a bitch in heat just then and desperate to have Harry's shaft fill her up, but she still remembered the plan and seeing Tonks and Luna positioned at the foot of the bed was too good an opportunity to pass up. Without much thought, she pushed Harry so that he stumbled directly into the metamorphagus.

Both of them yelped in surprise as they fell on the bed.

"Ow." Tonks said plaintively, rubbing her nose after having Harry's chest crash into it.

Harry himself realised that he was lying on top of his ex-girlfriend and did the most logical thing, namely taking the opportunity to kiss her.

Tonks also did the logical thing and returned it, making noises of appreciation all the while,

Seeing that those two didn't need anymore encouraging, Fleur smiled smugly and focused her attention on Luna.

Two minutes of uncoordinated kissing, groping and undressing later, all four of them were naked. Harry and Tonks had needed to briefly get off the bed to get all of their clothes off, at which point things went a bit off script.

"I want to go first." Luna said, staring at Harry's erection with uncanny focus for someone that was drunk.

"I'm going first!" Tonks snapped possesively, glaring at the young blonde. She had an acute memory for what a good fuck Harry was and no intention of postponing it after her long dry spell and the many unsatisfying flings before that.

Fleur offered a solution, having been long exasperated with Luna's determination to keep the silly promise she'd made to her father and eager to help her break it. "Come, Nymmie, let them 'ave their fun. I will take care of you."

"But..." Tonks protested as the veela pulled her off the bed.

"Shhh, let me take care of you." Fleur whispered and silenced and further protest with a kiss.

Tonks pouted, but allowed herself to be led over to a comfy armchair.

"Just relax." Fleur purred as she knelt between the metamorph's spread legs.

Tonks nodded and gasped lightly as the veela began to apply her skilled tongue to her honeypot, though her eyes drifted over to the action happening on the bed.

Harry had watched the near-argument with bemusement, not sure what he should be feeling as the three women decided, notably with no input from him, which one got priority use of his genitalia.

He scooted up on the bed as Luna joined him on it, staring at his erection with fascination. There was a vague notion of preventing this from happening in his intoxicated mind in order to help Luna keep her promise, but with the logic that only the intoxicated could muster, he reasoned that it wasn't his decision if Luna didn't want to keep it any more, disregarding the fact that Luna wasn't really thinking straight either.

Minor conflict resolved, he made no protest as she grabbed his shaft, touching, squeezing, pumping and giggling. Well used to Luna's quirks, he let her get it out of her system despite his impatience and sighed when she finally decided that she wanted a taste as well.

Of course, Luna had never given a blowjob before and was decidedly sub-par in comparison to Fleur's natural talent and enthusiasm or Septima and Narcissa's well trained, submissive oral servicing.

He made a vague determination to train her to do it properly, but that didn't help him now, so he interrupted her by pulling her further up his body.

"Enough foreplay, it's time for the main event." He said huskily.

Luna smiled a tad vapidly and positioned her entrance over his erection, slowly sliding down over it. Her hymen had long since been worn away by masturbation, fingering and the rigors of day to day life, but she was still a virgin and very tight as a result. Fortunately, Harry retained enough presence of mind to recall the need to be careful and let her go at her own pace. There was also no shortage of lubrication due to her arousal and sloppy attempt at a blowjob.

"Oh my." Luna breathed out once he was fully sheathed inside her. "This is nice."

"It'll be more than just nice." Harry murmured, deciding that Luna's first time was going to be an event worth remembering.

With that in mind, he cast one of his mainstay sexual spells, the one that echoed any sensation he felt in his member into a woman's erogenous zones. Despite his inebriation, the mental contortions required to cast the spell were so familiar by now that he could do it even in his current state. The only blunder he made was in amplitude, dialing it up way higher than he normally would so early on.

Luna shrieked in surprise as she started moving, caught completely by surprise by the sheer intensity of sensations ravaging her body.

Fleur removed her mouth from the delicious bounty of sexual fluids that the metamoprhmagus was providing and checked to see what was going on behind her. Seeing Luna impaled on Harry's tool made her grin widely, glad to see _that_ finally happening. It also gave her an idea on how to move forward from here.

"Fleur!" Tonks whined, unhappy with the cessation of licking.

The veela was more than happy to dive back in, this time going in for the kill instead of prolonging things. It didn't take more than a few seconds before the metamorph was shuddering in orgasm.

"Wow." Tonks sighed contently, sinking into the armchair with her legs still splayed lewdly.

"Won't you give me something else to play with?" Fleur purred suggestively, mimicking a handjob just to make sure that there were no misunderstandings.

With the double layered fog of alcohol and lust clouding her brain, Tonks didn't even think to refuse and instead merely began willing her body to shift in accordance to the veela's wishes. The recently pleasured vagina slowly disappeared and the clitoris transformed into a large example of maleness, a heavy par of testicles swinging under it.

Futa jokes aside, Tonks had never tried sporting two sets of genitals at once and making the plumbing functional for it and was not up to experimenting in her current state, so she merely shifted her lower half into purely male.

Fleur was only mildly disappointed when she saw that, but it passed quickly when she saw her new plaything swing ponderously past her face.

" _Magnifique_." She breathed, gripping the shaft to keep it still. It was bigger than Harry's, though that was quite the unfair comparison since it was adjustable. It was both bigger and smaller than everyone's. That made her giggle as she was reminded of something that Harry had once mentioned when he was explaining some obscure bit of magical theory, something about a man named Schrödinger.

Tonks groaned as the veela went to town on her new appendage, taking it all the way down her throat on the first try. Female bits definitely produced more intense sensations, but the male obsession with blowjobs was not unfounded.

Despite the intense desire burning in her belly to get at the metamorphmagus' discharge, Fleur forced herself to go slow enough to keep it from happening, reminding herself that she'd soon have all the semen she could want.

Her patience was rewarded when she heard Luna screaming out her orgasm to the backdrop of Harry's grunts as he discharged into her. She pulled her mouth away from the wonderfully large shaft with an effort and looked back at the bed to see what was happening.

Seeing Luna twitching on top of Harry and making little 'oh' sounds every once in a while convinced her that it was time to switch positions.

She got up, pulling the somewhat cross-eyed metamorphmagus with her and stepped towards the bed.

Harry had repositioned Luna onto her back by then, letting the dazed blonde get her breath back after her explosive orgasm.

"'Arry, what ' _ave_ you done to the poor girl?" Fleur asked teasingly.

"Err, I may have gone a bit overboard with a spell." He admitted sheepishly. "I used that thing I do when I need to wear you out in a hurry."

Fleur's eyes widened. Veela had naturally higher sexual stamina than normal women, which often left them unsatisfied. Harry's little sensation sharing spell could work around that by blocking orgasm and then triggering multiple simultaneous ones. It was great for her, but to use it on a virgin...well it was no wonder that Luna looked completely out of it.

"Well, no matter. She still has something that I want." She said firmly, crawling between the newly deflowered girls' legs and beginning to slurp out what Harry had left there, moaning appreciatively at the mix of familiar fluids.

As a final touch, she wiggled her derriere at Harry and Tonks, using her fingers to spread her sopping wet lower lips in invitation. She didn't even care which one of them did it, as long as one did.

Harry quickly regained full hardness at the lewd display the veela was putting on and glanced at the uncertain looking metamorphmagus, who he noticed was also sporting a slightly ridiculous erection of her own. That was new.

"Errr, ladies first." He said chivalrously, though his primary concern was less chivalry than it was to keep his own orifices oriented away from that thing. He might be secure enough in his own sexuality to not freak out at the sight and proximity of male genitalia not his own, but he wasn't willing to turn his back to one.

"Damn straight." Tonks agreed distractedly, staring at the swaying veela arse with a lusty gleam. The interrupted blowjob had left her hankering to finish things and this was just what the doctor ordered.

Harry watched as Dora took a position behind Fleur, grabbed her thighs and slowly slid in to the offered orifice, both of them groaning all the way. His own member twitched insistently at the arousing sight.

Listening to his lower head had him taking position behind Dora and sliding a finger between her legs, looking for a place to park said lower head.

He frowned in confusion when he felt nothing but skin between her anus and testicles.

"Sorry, Harry. Kitty's not home right now." Tonks joked with an inebriated giggle in between thrusts.

Though Harry had managed to shake off some of the alcohol's effects by this point, he was still very far from fully sober and concluded, quite reasonably in his own opinion, that if one hole wasn't available another would have to do. He'd done anal plenty of times already after all.

This reasoning neglected the fact that he'd never done it with Dora, but there was a reason why intoxicated people were not known as good decision makers.

Tonks squeaked when she felt a finger being inserted into her arse.

"What are you doing?!" She moaned in a slightly higher pitch than normal, but didn't stop fucking Fleur.

A sensation that could only be described as a cool breeze blowing through her bowels made her squeak again. The finger was removed and a bulbous, slippery object was pressed against her rear opening immediately after.

"Open wide." Harry murmured into her ear.

Normally, Tonks would have protested, but this wasn't a normal situation. She was quite a bit hammered and extremely horny. Fleur's Allure was going at at full blast since she was gobbling down what Harry had left inside Luna and though none of the people sharing the bed with the veela could be rendered drooling idiots by it anymore, they were still susceptible to its ability to infame lust.

As a result, the idea of being fucked in the arse while she doggy-styled Fleur sounded just grand. So as Harry started pushing his lubricated shaft into her rectum, her body, always responsive to her moods, simply stretched to accomodate him.

Once he was fully inside, Harry let out a long rumble of satisfaction and reached past Dora to grip Fleur's thighs. Then he pulled the three of them together so that they were as close together as possible.

He instinctively reached out to perform the Joining, yet another thing he'd have never dared do so brazenly with Dora had he been completely sober.

Tonks felt him doing it, but didn't resist. It was like a familiar blanket that she had missed desperately without even knowing it being draped over her and she sighed happily at the sensation of belonging that had been absent from her life recently. She also felt Fleur eagerly meeting Harry, her own presence glowing bright and hot in comparison to his powerful, cool calm. Luna followed as well, far more easygoing and accepting, and currently also exhausted but happy.

The metamorphmagus wanted to participate too, reaching out inexpertly, offering up her own soul for the multi-partner Joining. She was frustratingly inept at it, but she felt Harry's powerful presence washing over her, gently bringing her into the merger.

All four now connected into an emotional feedback loop, they started to move again, quickly finding a rhythm that was equally enjoyable for all three. Luna was far too out of it to do anything but lay there while Fleur slurped her prize out.

They kept at it for another ten minutes or so, none of them eager to end it, but their bodies wouldn't be put off forever and their communal pleasure eventually peaked into a shared orgasm, leaving them shuddering in pleasure.

They stayed that way for a few more minutes, content to just enjoy the poist-coital bliss. They would have stayed longer, but Luna's presence drifted off into an exhausted sleep, breaking the status-quo.

"Wow." Tonks finally said with a shuddering sigh, feeling as if all was right in the world. The feeling of belonging was so soothing that she barely registered the sloppy mess in her bowels or her continued half-maleness. It was fine, everything was fine as long as they were together.

Harry made a wordless murmured into her ear and slowly, reluctantly, pulled away.

Once she wasn't trapped between Harry and Fleur anymore, Tonks pulled out as well, quirking a smile at the veela's mewl of protest.

"Haven't you had enough?" She asked, grinning a bit loopily as the euphoric sensation of the four-way Joining slowly dissipated.

Fleur turned and looked at the metamorphmagus with a gleam in her eye, taking that as a challenge.

"You've done it now." Harry said, shaking his head with a sigh.

"Done what?" Tonks asked, a bit confused.

Fleur took the opportunity to push her to the side so that she caught herself on her hands and knees.

"Hey!" Tonks protested, trying to get up, but the veela used Harry's teaching in Will Manifestation to force her to stay in position.

"I never 'ave enough." Fleur declared and dove for the metamorph's anus, slurping out Harry's leavings.

"Fleur, that's disgusting." Tonks moaned, but tellingly stopped trying to move.

"I don't see why, I cleaned out your arse before I went in and the conjured lubricant is more like spit than anything." Harry said with a shrug. He wasn't even surprised that Fleur would be willing to do eat arse just to get at some sperm. The veela was voracious in pursuit of her meals.

He felt his arousal returning once again as he watched Dora moan in respose to the attention, the cock she hadn't gotten a chance to get rid off also hardening again, especially once Fleur noticed and started stroking it.

Harry saw that Fleur was wiggling her own bum at him invitingly and knew what she wanted. He was just about to oblige her when he caught sight of the sex swing that Dora had given him as a birthday present two years ago and an idea formed. Fleur had been having it all her way for just a bit too long already.

He ignored the enticingly wiggling bum and went to the sex swing, adjusting the straps and the height so that it would be ready for what he had in mind. Once he was done, he returned to Fleur's rear end and stuck a finger into her anus, casting the usual cleaning spell to remove waste and then loading her up with lubricant.

He could tell she was getting excited, but Harry limited himself to some light teasing and pulled her away from Dora's arse once he felt she was ready.

"'Arry." She predictably complained at being interrupted from her meal, though she did take a moment to wipe her mouth.

Harry didn't listen and marched her over to the sex swing.

"Oh, you had an idea?" She purred, no longer resisting.

"Mhm." Harry confirmed, settling her in so that she was held upright with her legs spread and her arms bound above her head. He called to the panting metamorph once he was done. "Dora, get over here."

Tonks had of course been watching this with interest, privately pleased that her gift was getting used. When Harry called her over, she got off the bed, the once again fully erect, temporary male appendage swinging sideways ponderously.

"You remember what we talked about over the mirrors a few weeks ago?" Harry asked, grinning.

Tonks struggled to recall what he was talking about past the intoxication and the lust and in the end simply nodded even though she had no idea what he was referring to.

"Well you already took the front, so now it's my turn. You take the back." Harry instructed, gesturing for her to move to the veela's backside.

Said veela had caught on to Harry's intention and was squirming eagerly in her restraints.

Tonks grinned a tad goofily at the idea and did as he said, positioning herself at Fleur's back entrance.

"Be gentle with me, Nymmie." Fleur moaned as felt the crown pushing up against her anus.

Tonks groaned with every inch. No matter how well Harry had lubricated it, it was still a very tight fit.

"Well done." Harry complimented once she was all the way inside and positioned himself at Fleur's front. "Hold her steady now."

His entrance was much easier, but it still left Fleur gasping for air as she felt the two male members grinding against each other through the thin walls of flesh that separated her vaginal canal and bowels.

"Alright, and now for the finishing touch..." Harry murmured, preparing a spell.

"What did you cast?" Tonks asked curiously as she felt the spell settle in.

"Sensation Echo." Harry explained with a smirk. "What we feel, Fleur will feel, in addition to her own sensations of course."

"Nice." Tonks grinned back at him.

They started moving, quickly settling into an easy rhythm where one pushed in just as the other was pulling out.

This had the effect of rapidly rendering the helpless veela insensinate, able to do little else besides gasp for air as her body was overloaded with sensation.

When Harry felt his third climax of the night approaching, he decided to be a bit cheeky and reached around the suspended veela to grab Dora by the buttcheeks, pulling her forward so that the rhythm was thrown off and both of them slammed as deep into Fleur as possible and climaxed inside her together.

Fleur let out a screech that was more avian than human and convulsed wildly in her bindings. Then her eyes rolled up into her head and she slumped into unconsciousness.

"Well, that usually takes a lot more effort to achieve." Harry panted, pulling out.

"Is she going to be alright?" Tonks asked, looking at the thoroughly defiled veela with worry.

"She'll be fine." Harry said dismissively. "Might get even more perverse though."

Tonks giggled and helped him take her down from the sex swing.

One she was untied Harry carried his conked out lover back to the bed, where his other conked out lover was already sleeping. He'd felt Luna briefly wake up at Fleur's orgasmic scream, but she had fallen back into unconsciousness already.

"Damn, what a night." Tonks yawned, exhaustion creeping up on her as well. She had already put away the cock and was once again sporting her proper parts.

Harry had noticed these proper parts and felt himself getting hard yet again, recalling that he hadn't had the opportunity to avail himself of them yet.

Tonks saw the obvious signs of his arousal and could hardly believe her eyes. "Harry, you can't be serious."

"No, he's dreaming of veela a few rooms down the hall. I'm Harry." He punned and kissed her while she was busy groaning at the overused joke.

Without really giving her a chance to speak any further, Harry maneouvered her onto the bed and settled himself between her legs.

"But I'm tired." She made a last ditch effort to protest once he was poised at her entrance.

"I'll do all the work. Just relax." He said and kissed her again, reaching out to perform the Joining once more.

Tonks moaned as he slipped into her, the familiar blanket of his presence washing away all concern with the sheer _rightness_ of it.

XXXXX

 _August 1st._

The moment she woke up, Nymphadora Tonks felt supremely cozy. Her head was pillowed on a lovely male chest and there was a supple female body pressed up against her back.

The pleasant lassitude was unfortunately transient however. Her bladder was demanding relief, her mouth was dry and her head had started pounding as soon as consciousness returned fully. The unpleasant feeling of dried semen between her legs also reminded her of last night's debauchery and the gentle lovemaking it had ended with. She'd already been so tired by then, but Harry had been as insistent as ever and had not stopped until he was satisfied. He'd even managed to get one final orgasm out of her.

She dealt with this situation in a mature manner befitting a member of the Auror Corps, namely by hiding her face in Harry's chest. _You'd think I would learn my lesson about drinking around these people after what happened last year, but noooo, Dora is surely far too clever to jump into an orgy after a few drinks. How did I even manage to become an adult with this kind of crappy self-control?_

"Wakey wakey, Dora." Harry sang teasingly. "I have a Hangover Potion with your name on it."

That was enticement enough to at least get her to stop hiding. If nothing else, it would get rid of the headache.

She grabbed the vial as it was presented to her and chugged the disgusting brew without looking any of her bedmates in the eye. The headache quickly cleared, but the bladder problem was still there.

"Be right back, bathroom." She muttered, shuffling out of the bed and towards the restroom.

After a brief stop at the sink to drink some water and wash the taste out of her mouth, she slumped on the toilet with her head in her hands.

 _Alright, I had an orgy with Harry and his girlfriends, now what?_

Her first impulse was to have another one, much to the metamorph's consternation. It had just been _so good_. And it felt so right too. She knew that Harry had done the Joining with her again, but more than that, he had guided her to reciprocate, which she had done eagerly. The pervasive sense of rightness and beloging had filled her with such happiness at the time that she couldn't help wanting to experience it again. All the reasons she tried to think of for why it was a bad idea seemed downright silly in comparison.

With her business finished, Tonks decided to metaphorically man up and face the music. Hiding in the bathroom certainly wasn't going to solve anything. Right after a quick wash of her crotch of course.

All three of them were still in the bed when she returned to the bedroom, though only Harry and Fleur were awake. They both patted an empty spot between them in a clear invitation to join them.

With a shrug, Tonks went for it. It was a bit late to be holding back anyway.

Something caught her eye before she could though.

There was a new scar right in the middle of Harry's forehead, far too ornate to be accidental. On a second glance, he had another pair of circular scars on his temples as well. That suddenly brought back the memory of a sense of confusion when she ran her hands over his back last night, feeling more scars. She'd been too tired and drunk to think about it then, but now it was all coming back.

"Harry, where did you get those scars?" She asked slowly, pointing a finger at his forehead.

"Ah, you can see them then?" He asked with a sigh. "I figured you might be able to after Joining with me last night. I'll tell you about them later, for now, why don't we talk about more immediate issues?"

Though she wanted to press the issue, Tonks nodded anyway. As long as he would tell her, then she could wait.

As she settled back against his chest, she noted that it was also littered with scars of all sorts, something that was starting to be rather alarming. It didn't take a genius to guess that they must be the results of a Blood Magic ritual and she had the distinct suspicion that this was one of those secrets he'd kept from her while they'd been together.

"You alright?" Harry asked once she was settled in.

Tonks was about to answer, but was cut off because Luna chose that particular moment to wake up. The last vial of Hangover Potion was supplied to her, and then she lay on her back and looked at the ceiling.

"I broke my promise." Luna stated. There was neither anger nor sadness in it, just a flat statement of fact.

"Sorry." Harry said a tad sheepishly.

"It wasn't your faut, I was the one that put your penis in my vagina." She shrugged.

"You were drunk." Tonks offered, trying to be helpful.

"Yes." Luna acknowledged. "Well, nothing for it now. Did you get your turn with Harry's penis, Nymphadora? My memory is a bit fuzzy after he gave me such a wonderful orgasm."

" _Oui,_ she got it in the butt." Fleur laughed.

Tonks flushed bright red, hair and all.

"That sounds nice." Luna said happily and then pouted. "But this means I'm the only one that didn't get it up the butt yet. Harry, you have to put it in my butt too."

"All in good time." Harry sighed.

"I am just glad 'Arry and I practiced a lot." Fleur said, the wince audible in her voice. "Did you really 'ave to make it so big, Nymmie? I'm still sore."

"You deserve it for getting me drunk, don't think I haven't figured out that you bitches did it just to get me into bed with you." Tonks huffed.

"Your were too skittish." Fleur asserted haughtily. "If we left it up to you and 'Arry, you would still be circling around each other three years from now."

The worst part was that the overly smug veela was probably right. Harry would never make the first move out of respect for her choices, and she'd keep shying away because of how things had ended last time.

"At least tell me that the Joining won't affect me anymore?" She asked in defeat, tacitly admitting that she wasn't _too_ upset.

"You felt it last night, didn't you?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. "You had a clear sense of yourself in relation to us. A soul aware of itself can't be subverted from the outside."

As if to emphasise his point, he wrapped his magic around her and Tonks felt it clearly. It was pure essence of Harry, calm and powerful and full of fondness for her, all the barbs and sharp edges of his personality turned away, poised to defend rather than threaten. It was there, but she could ignore it if she wanted to. It was no longer the insidious, invisible shadow that had once frightened her so much.

"Yeah, I guess I did." She sighed and snuggled into him, smiling when Fleur did the same to her back.

"This is going to be so great." Luna said happily. "I look forward to licking your vagina, Nymphadora."

"Um, thanks?" How do you even respond to that?

"You're welcome." Luna replied graciously.

"And I look forward to getting an extra treat in the mornings." Fleur chuckled.

"What?"

"Yeah, be prepared to change your wake-up routine to involve a blowjob." Harry explained with a resigned sigh. "She'll just stalk you until you give her what she wants otherwise."

Tonks blinked. Seriously?

"Don't act like you don't enjoy it." Fleur sniffed disdainfully.

"I never said I don't, but you're worse than a mosquito sometimes."

"Hmph."

Tonks decided to change the subject before she found out about any more odd dynamics that this group engaged in.

"So, about these scars..."

"Ooh, wait for me before you start explaining that!" Luna piped up. "I just need to go pee real quick."

"Sure." Harry agreed.

XXXXX

The talk about his rune scars was long and lasted well into the morning, long enough that Fleur and Luna had lost interest and wandered off to do their own thing. Tonks had agreed not to talk about them to anyone, though she had no shortage of questions.

"Were things really so bad that you felt like you needed to do this to yourself?" She asked sadly, running her fingers over the line of scars that followed his spine.

"No, but I was impatient and wanted as much power as possible, as quickly as possible." Harry admitted. "I'd been feeling trapped in one way or another for pretty much my whole life and when I cooked up this idea for a ritual over the course of my first year, it was just too tempting to ignore."

He sighed heavily and decided that he might as well tell her everything. "Even then, I would have probably chickened out at the last moment if not for the prophecy."

Tonks froze. "What prophecy?"

" _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._ " Harry recited from memory.

"But he's dead, Voldemort is dead." She said tremulously. Being around Harry had cured her of the social conditioning about the Dark Lord's chosen name, but the thought of him still being alive was no less frightening.

"No, not quite." Harry disagreed. "He made Horcruxes, soul anchors. As long as even a single one of those exists, he can never completely die."

"How many does he have?" Tonks asked, swallowing heavily.

"I don't know." He admitted with a sigh. "I've destroyed three so far, and it could be all of them for all I know, but I doubt it."

"We have to find them, if we talk to Bonesy..."

"No, we can't talk to anyone in the Ministry." Harry cut her off. "What do you think they would do if they found out there was a prophecy and that Voldemort was still alive? They might refuse to believe it and do nothing aside from alerting his followers. Even if they did it would cause nothing but trouble, because they might try to control me, thinking it was for the best. Even without that, I don't want any of his followers to have confirmation that he's still around and getting ideas about resurrecting him."

Tonks wanted to argue the point, but she knew he was right. The Ministry leaked information like a sieve. Bones could keep a secret, but if she tried to get anyone to help on tracking down these Horcruxes, then word would get out and they would have even bigger problems.

"How can you even be sure that the prophecy is real?" She asked, hoping to disprove it herself.

"I'm not." Harry admitted. "Dumbledore told it to me after I inadvertently tricked him into it back at the end of my first year, but I've grown to distrust him since then. The fact that Voldemort went after me and my parents as soon as he heard it and I ended up marked makes me think he was telling the truth though."

"You never went to check in the Department of Mysteries?"

"If I knew that I could walk in there with nobody knowing it I would, but keeping the prophecy secret is more important than confirming its veracity. For now at least."

"The DoM relies mostly on spells for security." Tonks said, biting her lip. "They're researchers more than anything else."

"That's interesting...Maybe I'll go take a little stealth trip down there one day soon."

Tonks nodded, knowing that she had just enabled him to do something that would have earned her a severe reprimand at the Auror Office, but this was more important than the Ministry's bureaucratic bullshit.

"What have you been doing about it so far?"

"Like I said, I destroyed three of his Horcruxes, but I have no leads on any others." Harry admitted. "Dumbledore might, but he hoards information like a miser and is too passive besides. I don't know what kind of plan he has, if he even has one, and you'd have more luck trying to get blood out of a stone than getting him to talk about it anyway. I've decided to just ignore him and work on another angle. If I can't prevent Voldemort from coming back, then I'll take his legs out from under him before he does."

"What do you mean?"

"You remember the disappearances of Walden Macnair and the Carrow twins?"

Tonks froze again. Oh yes, she remembered. "Harry, what did you do?"

"I abducted them from their homes, interrogated them and killed them."

"You murdered them?" She asked in horror.

"I prefer to think of it as pre-emptive self-defense." Harry said with gallows humor.

"This isn't funny!" She snapped. "You can't just go around murdering people. Fuck, I should be arresting you right now."

"Dora," He cut her off gently. "Macnair and the Carrows were monsters. Macnair abducted someone every six months or so, then he set them loose in the forest around his house and hunted them for sport. The Carrows kept their heads down the past decade and a half, but while Voldemort was alive they thought torturing, raping and killing muggleborns and their families was great fun. If Dumbledore wasn't so limp-wristed, he would have made sure that their heads rolled after Voldemort fell, but he decided to let them buy and bluff their way to freedom. You remember the basilisk episode? That was Lucius Malfoy's doing. He slipped one of Voldemort's Horcruxes into Ginny's bookbag so that it would possess her, which it did and used her body to open the Chamber of Secrets. That wouldn't have happened if he'd been executed after the war like he should have been. Do you really want these people to still be breathing if Voldemort manages to return himself to physical form?"

Tonks swallowed. Obviously she didn't, but she was supposed to uphold the law, not vigilantism.

But...she had been eight years old when Voldemort was defeated, old enough to remember the terror that everyone had lived in even if she hadn't fully understood it at the time. She remembered the relief on her parents' faces every time they came home from their muggle jobs and saw that they hadn't been attacked. She remembered the huddling over the newspaper, checking to see if anyone they knew had been killed. Anything was justified if it kept those days from coming back.

"What are you planning to do?" She asked shakily, needing to hear it.

"I'm going to kill them all, and if I get really lucky one or more of them will have been entrusted with Horcruxes just like Malfoy."

Tonks stayed quiet for a long time, trying to resolve the conflict she found herself in. From a legal perspective, Harry was a murderer that needed to be brought to justice. As an auror, that's what she should be doing.

But if Voldemort was still out there, and she had no doubt that Harry was telling the truth because he wouldn't make something like this up, then neutralising his followers before he came back would be crucial. The legalities of it seemed petty and unimportant in comparison, especially with how many of death eaters had walked free after the war on the flimsiest of excuses. If she could travel back in time and kill Voldemort before he became the monster whose name people were afraid to speak, she would do it. It would be murder, yes, but sometimes the ends _did_ justify the means.

"Do Fleur and Luna know about this?" She asked, trying to delay the choice she knew she would have to make soon.

"Of course, Fleur is even insisting that she wants to help."

Tonks closed her eyes. Of course she was, far be it from the fiery veela to flinch away from a little blood if that was what it took to get what she wanted. And Luna would probably be more put out if there was no pudding for dessert than she was about Harry killing people.

"What about Sirius, does he know?"

"No." Harry sighed. "Sirius means well and I'm sure he'd help, but he's proven to be an information leak in the past and his Occlumency isn't that great. It was pure dumb luck that Adrastia didn't ask about anything that would have made him blab about the Horcruxes or the prophecy while she had him by the bollocks."

"What _does_ Zabini know then?" She asked in alarm.

"A lot more than I'm comfortable with, but we can talk about her later."

"Right, later. What about Penny and Narcissa?"

"Penny doesn't, but Narcissa was the one who pointed out Macnair and the Carrows to me as easy pickings."

Of course she did, her aunt was completely devoted to Harry now. It was almost poetically symmetrical from her point of view, one aunt fanatical in her devotion to Voldemort and the other to Harry.

"Alright, I'm in." She whispered. There was really nothing else to say, her discomfort at the idea of murdering the Death Eaters wasn't important in the face of what would happen if Voldemort returned and had that support base to draw on. She knew far too well how deeply entrenched they were in the government.

"You don't have to." Harry said sympathetically. "I can certainly understand if the thought of what I'm planning makes you squeamish."

But Tonks shook her head, refusing the way out. "No, if I'm going to ignore the law and let you kill people then I'm damn well going to participate. I'll just drive myself crazy wondering if you're going after the wrong ones otherwise."

"Alright." Harry nodded. He couldn't just stay on the sidelines while stuff was happening either. Stuff relevant to him that was. "If it makes you feel any better, I think Amelia Bones will be happy when she sees the Death Eaters dying."

"What?!" Tonks exclaimed incredulosuly.

"They killed her brother and his family and I got a distinct feeling of satisfaction from her at Malfoy's death." He explained. "I even sent her a bottle of Firewhiskey afterwards and she never called me out on it."

Tonks shook her head, trying to reconcile the image of the scrupulously fair Amelia Bones condoning murder, even privately. Then again, she was a person just like anyone else and thinking back, Bonesy _had_ seemed a bit disinterested in the disappearances of Macnair and the Carrows.

"So, um, who's next then?" She asked awkwardly.

"Fenrir Greyback. He's not in Britain right now, but I'm hoping that this werewolf legislation draws him back."

 _Well, at least it's someone that nobody can say doesn't deserve it_. Tonks thought to herself. Greyback was one of the worst examples of a werewolf and a large part of the reason that the prejudice against them was so strong in Britain.

XXXXX

 _August 4th._

Over the past few days, Harry brought Tonks up to speed on everything, including the fact that one of the Horcruxes had been inside his head. She'd been appropriately horrified by that.

She had learned to distrust Dumbledore nearly as much as he did as well, acknowledging that the old wizard had probably known about that particular issue. That he hadn't said anything about it didn't paint a very good picture.

With Dora's help, his own substantial abilities and the most powerful invisibility cloak ever made, Harry had been able to break into the DoM and make off with the prophecy with almost insulting ease. If he'd known it was this easy he'd have done it a long time ago. Finding the right prophecy orb had been by far the hardest task simply because Harry hadn't dared use any spells to help him search for it while down there.

" _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._ " Sybill Trelawney's voice, made harsh while in the grip of prophecy, faded away, leaving four people looking thoughtful.

"Well, I guess that confirms that." Harry said grimly.

"Can we really put any faith in it though?" Fleur said skeptically. "Prophecies 'ave always sounded a bit fanciful to me."

Harry shook his head. "I thought they were a load of shite myself, but every bit of research I've done on the subject concludes that prophecies are in fact a thing. They have limits of course. They're always local for one, meaning that only things that are important to the oracle speaking it are mentioned. You'll never hear an oracle from India talking about stuff that only affects America for example, not unless they have personal interests in America at least. The final commonality is that the oracles are always, _always_ , mentally fragile people."

"And all this means...what?" Fleur pressed.

"There are several ways of looking at prophecy. The most obvious is that events are set in stone and that the prophecy is only reporting them, but this is unlikely. Prophecies are always far too general with very few specifics for that. Note that the only specific bit of information this one has is that the Dark Lord has to die at my hand or vice versa and even that can be stretched if you squint. It gives no timeline or method, only reports that we will be mortal enemies."

"What other ways are there? To look at a prophecy I mean." Tonks asked curiously.

"The mere concept of prophecy infringes on free will, but it wouldn't be the only piece of magic to do that. The curse on the DADA position is a good example with the way it contrives to get rid of the sitting professor every year without fail. If free will is not unlimited it then follows that magic does or can be used to impose a certain level of predestination. Perhaps time is cyclical, repeating in vast, endless loops and the future knowledge can slip into the minds of oracles through the cracks in their psyches in the form of prophecy. Perhaps they glimpse at events in parallell universes and report on them. Perhaps certain wizards and witches are sufficiently powerful to leave a deep enough impression in the timestream for an oracle to perceive their existence and flashes of their possible actions before they happen. The last theory seems the most sensible to me and fits the most facts."

"Are you sure you aren't just stroking your own ego?" Tonks asked jokingly.

"I have you girls to stroke my ego." Harry deadpanned in reply.

"I should hope so!" Fleur added with faux offense. "I don't think I would be able to live with the shame if you still felt the need to stroke yourself."

"It would make it harder for him to take care of us too." Luna nodded to herself.

Harry decided to interrupt before they could get any further off track. "Anyway, yes, I am sure that I'm not just tooting my own horn. We as humans are limited beings that can only perceive time in a linear fashion, but the reality isn't nearly that simple and magic transcends the normal boundaries of the Universe anyway. The matter isn't germane in any event. Our problems aren't the why and how of prophecy but the subjects of it."

"Right, Voldemort and his Death Eaters." The metamorphmagus said, nodding.

"The prophecy being true and confirmed changes nothing." Fleur noted with a slow nod of her own. "They would 'ave been our enemies no matter what."

"It makes me feel better about planning to kill them." Tonks admitted.

"I have something for all of you that will _me_ feel better." Harry said, getting all three girls' attention. "Kreacher, could you bring the presents please?"

The old house elf popped in and deposited three large boxed on the floor. "Here you go, Master."

"Thank you, Kreacher." Harry said and started distrubuting the boxes according to the names on them.

"What's this?" Tonks asked, curiously.

"Open it."

She did so and gasped at the sight of the basilisk hide, a coat like his and a pair of boots.

"Harry, this is too much. I was just messing with you when I kept demanding that you give me basilisk hide boots."

"I know, but I've had all this extra basilisk hide lying around and figured I might as well put it to use. At first I was waiting for Luna to reach full size, but it's becoming clear that she's always going to be a midget." Harry teased. At 5'2'' and some change, Luna was just over a whole foot shorter than him.

"I like being small, I can always be the little spoon when we cuddle." Luna said with a smile.

" _Touché_." Fleur laughed.

"Anyway, I was originally going to wait until I could say that you had nothing more to learn from me before giving these to you, but it seemed stupid to hold off on it when they might save your lives one day, so I put out the order to have them made when we got back from America." Harry admitted.

"It is a magnificent gift." Fleur said, stepping over to give him a kiss, which led to the other two also giving him one.

"It's heavier than I thought." Tonks said after trying the coat on, stretching her arms out to test the weight.

"I know, not exactly an item for casual wear, but it might even block a Killing Curse or two. Maybe."

"I think I'll stick to dodging where Killing Curses are involved."

"Smart girl."

XXXXX

 _August 7th._

With the many things going on over the past week, it was perhaps understandable that Tonks had not thought of one particular issue, but she still felt quite a bit stupid when she saw her aunt giving Harry a longing look after dinner.

A lot had happened in the past week; Joining a four-way relationship, learning about Voldemort, the prophecy, stealing from the DoM and plots to murder death eaters. There was also a sense of contentment and belonging in the background of it all, but that was no excuse to forget that your man was fucking several women on the side. Women that weren't Fleur and Luna that was, those two were fine since she was fucking them too.

It _did_ feel a bit strange to have agreed to Harry's plans of systematic mass murder yet be worrying about who he had sex with, but that was how it was. The situation was unorthodox enough that Tonks decided against confronting Harry about it directly and went to talk to Fleur instead.

Of course, Fleur was a veela and had a rather different set of opinions on the matter than one could reasonably expect from a human...

"Why does this bother you?" Fleur asked, baffled. "I can sort of understand when it is just two people, even if it is dumb, but there are four of us. Why does it matter if 'Arry fucks Narcissa and Septima and whoever else?"

"Why does this _not_ bother you?" Tonks asked back, equally baffled. "Yes, there's four of us, but we're like a unit. Why should Harry need more women?"

"Who said anything about need?" Fleur frowned in confusion. "He fucks them for fun, or in Narcissa's case, to reward 'er."

"Aren't we enough _fun_?" Tonks asked hotly.

"You can never 'ave enough fun!"

"In this case you definitely can!"

Fleur bit down on the remark that nearly passed her lips, realising just in time that it would only serve to pointlessly escalate the situation. Much as her first impulse was to browbeat the metamorphmagus into giving up this ridiculous notion that being in a relationship with someone gave you ownership of their sexuality, she knew it wouldn't work. Being around Harry and Luna for so long had spoiled her a little and she'd nearly forgotten how silly most humans were.

Nymphadora would have to be eased into it or else she would walk out on them and Fleur had not expended all that effort bringing her into the fold only for that to happen.

So she took a deep breath, took the tense metamorphmagus by the hand and started leading her away.

"Come, let's go talk to 'Arry."

XXXXX

They found him in the study, working with Narcissa on the speech he would use to address the Wizengamot when he presented his werewolf legislation. Luna was there too, apparently just listening.

He smiled at them as they entered and seemed to notice that something was up.

"We'll finish this later, Cissy." He said to the older witch.

"Of course, my lord." Narcissa said deferentially and quickly left the room.

Harry moved from behind his large desk and sat in an armchair instead, not wanting this conversation to have the distance that the desk created. Fleur sat herself on one of the arms while Luna joined the stiff Tonks on the couch across form it.

"So, what's up?" Harry prompted.

"Nymmie has a concern." She said, making an airy hand gesture.

Tonks briefly glared at the veela before speaking, for some reason feeling as if she had just been mildly insulted.

"Are you going to keep sleeping with other women?" She said, looking at him with a challenging lift to her chin.

"Ah, I've been waiting for this to come up." Harry nodded.

"You were waiting?" Tonks blinked at the unexpected reply.

"Yes, I didn't honestly expect it to take this long before you brought it up. I was starting to wonder if Fleur or Luna had somehow managed to get you to loosen up without telling me."

"Loosen up?" Tonks repeated dangerously.

Harry remained unintimidated. "Yes, loosen up. Do you know where the idea of sexual fidelity comes from?"

"I don't really care." She replied mulishly.

"Humor me?"

"Fine. No, I don't know where it comes from."

"It's primarily rooted in three notions. The first is that sleeping with someone else makes you used goods, the second is that doing so is a reflection of one's thoughts on the person or persons they are in a relationship with and the third is so that the father knows the child is really his. All three are a product of the human ego and are either objectively irrelevant to our situation or outright fallacious. The widespread use of women as bargaining chips in marriage alliances throughout history reinforced this sort of thinking and made everything else 'morally deviant'. Magical society has a lesser version of this both because witches are just as capable of killing as wizards in comparison to mundane men and women – where the power balance has always been more lopsided – and because it never had the Catholic Church stirring shit like the mundane one did and still does, but the core principle is the same."

"So, what? I should let you fuck whoever you want to rebel against society?" Tonks asked sarcastically. "There's already four of us in this relationship, what more could you want?"

"You're missing the point."

"Then explain it to me."

"Me sleeping with other women isn't an indicator that you three aren't enough. In fact, it doesn't reflect on you at all. I sleep with Narcissa to keep her as my happy servant instead of a bitter enemy and to reward her for good behavior. Septima is just playtime, pure and simple, like chess but with more sweat."

"We are still waiting for you to share 'er by the way." Fleuir reminded him.

"Yes, when do we get to play detention with Professor Vector?" Luna added brightly.

Tonks was feeling personally attacked by this point and lashed out in the same way that she had against Fleur earlier. "What if I wanted to have a one night stand with some random guy then, would you be okay with that?"

She had been expecting him to try rationalising why it was fine for him to have women on the side, but her having men wasn't. To her surprise though, he simply nodded.

"I _would_ be okay with that, if I was bisexual I would even suggest that you bring him to our bed so that we could all play with him. Feel free to do that with women by the way, but only as long as they're witches since Fleur isn't attracted to mundanes. In any event, I won't care if you want to amuse yourself with someone else on the side. I won't think of you as used or damaged goods and I won't take it as a personal insult if you do. I know this isn't the way things usually are, but I respect you too much to dictate how and with whom you're allowed to use your genitals."

"This is all so backwards!" Tonks moaned, hiding her face in her hands. She didn't even want to have anyone on the side to amuse herself with! A large part of the reason that she had accepted being part of this foursome was because all her other attempts at romance had been so damned disappointing in comparison. The way Harry worded it made her seem petty and unreasonable, imposing limits on his personal freedoms while he ended up looking like a damned saint that wouldn't think any less of her for doing as she pleased.

" _Non_ , this is how it should be." Fleur said insistently.

"So you go around screwing whoever catches your eye too then?" Tonks asked, staring at the veela.

"There were a few I might 'ave sported with, but it seemed like such a poor use of time to bother with them when I could just go to 'Arry instead. Most wizards are only good at drooling on themselves and ejaculating prematurely when faced with a veela's passion." Fleur said smugly, grinning at Harry.

"Whereas I make you work for it?" Harry drolled.

She grinned wider. " _Oui_ , and the prize at the end is much sweeter."

"So Harry is the only one actually sleeping around?" Tonks asked a bit sourly.

"I only mentioned wizards." Fleur replied slyly. "There is my mother of course, but I also 'ave a friend and cousin back in France, another veela, that I dally with when I visit my parents and sister." She admitted with another small grin. "I like to drive 'er green with envy with stories of 'Arry's prowess and stamina."

Tonks shook her head, still finding it hard to wrap her head around the bizarre, from her point of view, familial relationships of veela.

"That's mean." Luna said with a disapproving frown. "We should visit France one day and make it up to her."

"Hmph, we should _move_ to France." Fleur sniffed. "It is much nicer than Britain."

"We're not moving to France." Harry rolled his eyes.

"But why not? Nymmie is one of us now and I'm sure she could join the French Aurors if she wanted to." The veela said a tad petulantly.

"Woah, woah, woah, hang on a second. Why would my joining of this relationship be a factor _for_ moving to France? I'd think it would be the the way around."

"Fleur." Harry said sharply just as she was about to answer, making the veela jump and give him a frustrated look, but she stopped talking.

"Harry, what is she talking about?" Tonks asked sweetly.

Harry released an aggravated sigh, threw a quick glare at Fleur and looked at her squarely.

"I don't have much reason to stay in Britain." He began. "The legacies and prestige of the Houses Potter and Black don't mean anything to me and the politics connected to them are annoying. The country is full of sheep, most of which don't even deserve to have the magic they were born with. There was a point at which I was seriously considering moving to Greenland and doing my own thing, prophecy be damned. It would have to sort itself out eventually anyway."

"Trust you to pick a frozen wasteland instead of somewhere nice." Fleur muttered.

Harry only briefly smirked at her remark before continuing. "The only things really keeping me here are the fact that the Death Eaters are a problem I'd prefer to deal with now rather than later and...you."

"Me?" Tonks repeated in surprise.

"Yes, you. Luna has nothing left tying her here and Fleur never shuts up about France."

Fleru squawked indignantly, but Harry just kept on talking without paying her any mind.

"Sirius would go wherever I go, Narcissa and Septima I would sooner advise to leave as well rather than stay for their sakes. Same goes for Penny, Bryanna and Tiana, I'd help them get out of the country if things really went to shit, but I wouldn't fight a war for them. You, Dora, are the only person I have enough of an emotional investment in to stay in Britain for."

"Oh." Tonks said quietly, digesting that surprise reveal. "Why didn't you want me to know?"

"Because he's a doody-head." Luna chimed in.

"Thank you, Luna, for that detailed analysis." Harry said sarcastically.

"You're welcome." She replied brightly.

"She is right though." Fleur weighed in, her eyes filled with a vengeful gleam, probably because of that remark about her never shutting up earlier. "You would sooner spend years teaching her your hard-won knowledge of magic as a way of fixing your mistake with the Joining rather than simply admitting that you still love 'er."

"Love me?" Tonks repeated in shock. Sure, they had a nice thing going once and the past week had been simply wonderful, but it was a little early for that, wasn't it?

"What else would you call it?" Fleur said with a snort. "'E may be useless at figuring out 'is emotions just like most men, but 'is actions speak for themselves. When you two broke things off, I tried everything I could to focus 'is complete attention on me, things that would 'ave any other man on his knees begging for a pat on the head, but 'e never forgot you and shared one of the only things 'e values both to keep you close and as an apology. Eventually I decided that Luna had the right of it and that you needed to be included. It 'elped that I like you as well."

Tonks turned her eyes towards Harry and saw him actually looking like the teenager he was for once, all awkward and uncomfortable.

"Is it true?" She asked softly.

Harry gave a little shrug. "I do care about you a great deal. I wouldn't have started teaching just anyone."

"And the thing about it being an apology for using the Joining on me?"

"It was that too. I knew how much it unnerved you, so I thought that gaining an immunity to it would put you at ease."

"Harry, I forgave you for that a long time ago." She was still kind of touched though.

"But you never fully relaxed around me again either, not until a week ago."

Tonks couldn't deny that. She hadn't even realised that there had been a constant tension between them until it was suddenly gone. Maybe because it had been disguised under the sexual tension.

"Anyway, we've drifted off topic." Harry said, clearly eager to move on to something else. "We were talking about having sex with people outside the four of us. Dora, I know this might not be how you expected or wanted it to be, but being restrictive simply isn't going to work. Just the fact that this is a four-way relationship already works against it, Fleur won't go for it, Luna doesn't _want_ to go for it and I'm no longer capable of seeing sex with a third party – or fifth in our case – as a betrayal of our bond."

Well, that was as plain an answer as she was ever going to get. It was either accept it or break things off. Again. She was hardly a stranger to the idea of an open relationship, but Tonks was a bit of a romantic at heart and had always had certain notions on what comprised an ideal relationship.

None of the other three were particularly romantic though. You could never be sure what went on in Luna's head except that it wasn't going to be what one could consider normal, Fleur saw sex on the same level as daily exercise and Harry was cynical, pragmatic and unsentimental. He hadn't contradicted Fleur's claim that he loved her, but it was not in the way that she had once dreamed of as a teenaged girl.

Did it really matter though? It wasn't as if this was the first time she'd needed to adapt her preconceptions to reality and she had been very happy with the unorthodox four-way relationship this past week. The thought of going back to being single was not at all appealing and really, a foursome was already pretty open.

 _I need time to think_. Tonks realised. Yes, a few days to process and let things settle were in order. That would give her time to sort out how she felt about all this.

"Could you do me a favor?" She finally spoke.

"Alright." Harry agreed without even asking what the favor was first, which she knew was not something he generally did.

"Could you hold off on sleeping with any other women while I think about all of this?"

"Sure."

XXXXX

 _August 10th._

"There, see how the magic flows? Now think 'push' and try to focus it as tightly as you can." Harry instructed.

"But what if I hurt you?" Tonks asked nervously.

"You won't." He assured. "You don't have the skill to overpower me yet, so just give it your best shot."

Tonks exhaled, resettled her position, closed her eyes and focused. She placed her hands as if holding a ball in front of her as a means of helping her visualise the magic she was trying to mould.

Achieving the proper mindset took several long minutes, minutes spent trying to get her magic to move. Harry's presence was always there to guide her, a vague feeling of 'yes, that's it' and 'no, not that' directing her efforts.

Finally she managed it and reached a state where she was simultaneously one with her emotions and divorced from them. There was an ephemeral sense of limitless possibility, which she quickly directed into a violent push towards Harry.

It ruffled his hair slightly.

"I did it!" Tonks cheered despite the unimpressive results and leaned down to kiss her lover, squashing her bare breasts against his scarred chest.

"That you did, well done." He complimented once his lips were free.

Tonks sighed happily and snuggled into him, giving a delighted shiver as he lightly ran his fingers across her bare back.

"This has got to be the strangest way of teaching magic ever." She said with a chuckle as she felt his member twitch inside her.

"If it works it works. " He shrugged. The line between Sex Magic and Blood Magic was a lot thinner than one might think. The friction of penetration caused enough microscopic wounds to initiate a Blood Linking and paved the way for a full Spell Meld, plus the added intimacy implicit in sex. It was a recent experiment on Harry's part, but so far it was working wonders as a teaching tool.

"Did you teach Fleur like this too?" She asked idly.

"Yeah right." Harry snorted. "Fleur would never be able to focus on anything like this. I have started doing it with Luna though."

Tonks hummed noncommittally and used her Metamorph talent to start stimulating his member without having to move. She was more in the mood for a cuddle than a shag right now, but still wanted to please him. This way, they could have both.

Harry groaned slightly as he felt the muscle contractions that only a metamorphmagus could really accomplish. Being able to sense her mood clear as day, he was content to just lie under her and enjoy it.

"Harry, I've been thinking..." She said after a few minutes, drawing circles on his chest.

"Hmm?" He prompted, most of his attention focused on enjoying the...whatever this anatomically impossible sex act could be called. Pussyjob?

"About our talk the other day."

There was really only one talk that had happened in the past few days that warranted thinking about. "And?"

"And I think I can be okay with you sleeping around, even if I'm not interested in doing the same..."

"But?"

"But I'm not sure."

"You have an idea." Harry stated rather than asked.

Tonks sighed, both because he had just released into her and because of how easily he could read her like this.

"Yeah. What say you bring Vector over and we see what happens? I'll know for sure how I feel about it then."

"Alright, I'll bring her over tomorrow." Harry nodded.

"Okay, good, that's...good."

"Want to just cuddle for a while?"

"Yes please."

XXXXX

 _August 11th._

Septima had not felt this mixture of terror and arousal in quite some time. Not since Harry had stuck a buttplug up her arse and told her he would be coming to claim that hole in the evening.

The current situation was, if anything, even more nerve wracking.

He had showed up at her home and ordered her to strip. That much she had done eagerly, but then he had thrown his invisibility cloak over her head and apparated them both to the foyer of Potter Manor.

Walking naked through an occupied house would have been bad enough, but then Harry's godfather had waylaid them.

"Harry! Just the wizard I wanted to talk to." Sirius Black called gregariously and Septima felt her insides clenching with the fear of discovery even as heat bloomed between her legs.

"What about?" Harry inquired curiously, giving no sign that he had a naked woman hiding under an invisibility cloak right behind him.

"I was talking to the twins the other day and they've got this amazing portable swamp. What do you say to planting it on a timer in the Wizengamot chamber?"

"You want me to turn the Wizengamot chamber into a swamp?" Septima could imagine that Harry's expression was as deadpan as his voice at the ludicrous suggestion.

"It's already a swamp, you'd just be making it a literal one." Black said, grinning boyishly.

"No." The grin quickly vanished at the flat answer.

"You're no fun." He sulked.

"I'm a different kind of fun." Harry retorted and Septima involuntarily gasped as a weak Pinching Hex squeezed her nipples.

"Did you hear something just now?" Black asked suspiciously, looking around.

Septima stopped breathing as her heart pounded wildly in fear. A drop of arousal trickled down her leg.

"You must be going senile, now I have things to do, unless you have any more ideas on how I could make life difficult for myself?"

Black responded with good natured insult of his own and left, allowing Septima to breathe again.

There were no further incidents on the way to the master bedroom, which she was thankful for, but she froze at the sight of three nude women engaging in light foreplay with each other on the bed.

"Girls, I have the entertainment." Harry announced and pulled the invisibility cloak away, much to Septima's consternation.

"Hello, Professor!" Luna waved at her happily.

"Ms. Lovegood." Septima responded automatically, her voice quaking.

" _Bonjour_ , Professor." Harry's veela lover said next, her voice a low purr and her eyes gleaming hungrily. "I am glad that 'Arry 'as finally deigned to introduce us."

"Ms. Delacour." She said meekly, more than a little intimidated by the way the veela was looking at her.

"And you know Nymphadora Tonks of course." Harry spoke up, gesturing to the woman in question.

Of course Septima knew her. The metamorphmagus had been one of her more memorable students not that long ago.

"Fancy meeting you here, Professor." Tonks said, wincing at her own lameness.

Septima was oddly relieved to know that she wasn't the only one feeling terribly out of sorts.

"Harry, I-" She began, only to gasp as he grabbed her by the hair. Not painfully, but firmly enough to tell her that she wasn't allowed to protest.

"I'll be expecting you to do everything they say, understand?" He said sternly.

Septima closed her eyes briefly and nodded, her insides clenching the way they always did when he was like this.

"Good." He said and then leaned in to murmur into her air. "Don't worry, they know the rules. Yellow to ease up and red to stop."

Septima nodded again, this time with a little less fear as she was reminded of the safewords she could use at any time if someone went too far. While it did break immersion a bit, she was grateful to Harry for providing that reassurance in this situation. The idea of sex with other women may not repulse her, but she was not in any way homosexual. It was comforting to know that she had an out if it proved unpalatable.

A glance at Harry's women revealed that they were watching with varying degrees of interest. Luna was as hard to read as she had ever been, Tonks was looking a tad uncomfortable and Fleur still had that hungry look.

"What should we do first?" Luna broke the silence, picking up at riding crop from a table full of toys that Septima hadn't noticed earlier and giving it a wave.

"Oh, I am sure we will 'ave time to get to all of them." Fleur replied, running a finger over a strapless dildo as she glanced at the nervous former professor with a smirk on her beautiful face. "Eventually."

XXXXX

 _August 13th._

Rita woke up and didn't know why. It was still black as pitch, so dawn had to be hours away yet. What had woken her?

"Morning, Rita." A male voice called jauntily.

Rita screamed and fell off the bed.

"So dramatic." And now she was being mocked too.

 _Wait, I know that voice. Potter!_

She cautiously raised her head to look at the interloper. He was sitting in a chair by her bed and staring at her with green eyes that glowed slightly in the dark, calm as you please.

"Potter!" She tried to sound outraged, but the pounding of her heart made it shaky and weak. "What are you doing in my house?"

"I have some marching orders for you."

Rita grimaced at the reminder that she was being blackmailed. She wrapped herself in the covers that she'd dragged along with her and sat on the bed, not wanting the bastard to get a free show of her beautiful body in a night gown on top of everything else.

"Couldn't you have come at a more decent hour?" She demanded grouchily.

"Sucks when people are being incosiderate, doesn't it?"

Great, not only was he blackmailing her, but he was being petty about it too.

"Well, what do you want?"

"Two days from now, on the 15th, I will be making an appearance in the Wizengamot and proposing a new werewolf legislation. You are going to write about it in the most glowing terms you can manage to find in the depths of your bittter black heart. Feel free to vent your bile on anyone opposing it though."

"Fine, is that all?" She snapped.

"Actually, no. I am going to say certain things during that Wizengamot meeting that have to make into the _Prophet_ more or less unaltered. To that end we'll be doing a short interview right now, which you will sit on until after the meeting and be able to post the next day."

Rita perked up. An exclusive interview, prepared ahead of time so that she didn't have to rush to get it ready for the morning edition of the _Prophet_? Now that was more like it.

XXXXX

 _August 15th_. _Wizengamot chamber._

Harry was dreadfully bored. _I knew it was going to be bad, but this is beyond horrible._

There had been a little excitement at first when Dumbledore, in his capacity as Chief Warlock, had welcomed him to his first Wizengamot session, but things had been getting steadily more dull ever since. They had already passed a discussion on yet another revision on the guidelines for proper cauldron bottom thickness and progressed to petty bickering since then. He cursed whoever had made the rules for this crap so that new proposals had to be presented at the end of the session.

"I believe we have done all we can for today." Dumbledore banged his gavel and announced before the bickering could transition into outright name-calling. "Unless anyone has a new issue they would like to open?"

 _Finally!_ Harry cheered inside his mind and sent up a small magelight from his fingers. Members generally indicated that they wanted to speak by lighting their wands, but he didn't have his with him. Plus, there was no harm in reminding these ninnies of his power.

"Lord Potter-Black," Dumbledore said without surprise. He had probably figured that Harry hadn't chosen to join this session on a lark. "you have new business for the Wizengamot to deliberate?"

"I do, Chief Warlock." Harry said formally, keeping the scowl off his face at all this pompous posturing that he had to participate in. He was already flaunting the dress code by showing up in a black silk shirt and trousers. It was a handsome outfit, but it had garnered him more than a few disapproving looks from the tradition obsessed idiots. Tough, but plum was really not his color. Given that the room looked like it was full of eggplants, he wasn't sure if it was _anyone's_ color.

"Very well, you have the floor."

Harry stood and looked over at the gathered conglomeration of incompetence and stupidity. Most of them were leaning forward and looking at him with eagerness in their eyes. _You people need a hobby._

"I'm sure we all want to go home," _me most of all._ "so I will be brief. Of the many issues facing Magical Britain I believe the subject of werewolves is, if not the most pressing, one of the most persistent ones. To that end, I have drafted a proposal that I feel will address it."

Once he was done speaking, Harry drew a stack of parchment from a magically expanded pocket and used a flashy, but not especially hard, bit of magic to distribute one copy to each Wizengamot member. There was some subdued awe at the wandless magic, but it passed quickly enough.

He waited for the inevitable explosion while everyone read over the summary of the proposed legislation. It shouldn't be long now, given how loud the murmuring was getting...

"This is absurd!" Thaddeus Nott, the Lord Nott, declared loudly. "This ridiculous proposal doesn't even merit a discussion."

There was a murmur of agreement among the Wizengamot.

"Do tell which part of it is ridiculous, I'd love to know." Harry said coolly.

"All of it!"

"Name something."

"I told you, all of it is ridiculous!"

"Very, well, since Lord Nott is apparently unwilling to clarify, I propose we go through the list." Harry said, producing a titter of laughter at Nott's expense.

"You brat! How dare you insult me?" Nott demanded angrily.

"If a statement of fact insults you, Lord Nott, then life must be a singularly frustrating experience for you." Harry replied blandly, producing a few more chuckles as the man's face reddened. _Either Nott has a little more balls than I thought he did or people are already starting to forget what I did to Malfoy._ _Then again it could also be that the setting is making him feel more confident._

Dumbledore banged his gavel, cutting off whatever retort Nott was working himself into and bringing attention back to himself.

"Lord Nott, Lord Potter-Black, you will conduct yourself in a manner befitting yout station." He said sternly.

"Of course, Chief Warlock." Harry said with a short nod, Nott doing the same a moment later. _Fuck you with a ping pong paddle, old man._

"I believe Lord Potter-Black had the right idea when suggesting we go through the list, so let us begin." Dumbledore said. "A lift on the employment restrictions of werewolves. Please explain your reasoning, Lord Potter-Black."

"Certainly." Harry nodded. "Under the current laws, werewolves are essentially unable to find gainful employment in Magical Britain, forcing them to seek jobs either with the muggles, abroad or most problematically, outside the law."

"I can confirm Lord Potter-Black's reasoning." Amelia Bones said. "The DMLE frequently brings in werewolves for petty crimes."

"And you want to give these criminals more rights?" Nott interjected scathingly. "We should be tightening the restrictions on them, not giving them more room to cause trouble."

"Lord Nott is missing the point." Harry said. "There are many werewolves who would be productive members of society if they were but allowed to be."

"But won't that give them a chance to infect more people?" A witch he didn't know asked worriedly.

Harry really wanted to call her out on her stupidity, but that would be counter-productive. Explaining it would have to do. Hopefully she'd feel stupid afterwards. "Werewolves are only capable of transmiting lycanthropy while transformed or if they engage in sexual intercourse in the days immediately before and after the Full Moon when their curse is nearly at full strength, call it a week before and after just to be safe. The transformation is easily prepared for and the sexual transmission is something that I would wager many of them don't actually know about until it's too late. Properly educating them on it would reduce the number of new werewolves substantially, perhaps even allow us to eradicate lycanthropy in time."

There was a murmur of interest in the Wizengamot, but many, such as Nott, were looking ready to dig in their heels.

"You're naivé if you think werewolves are the victims here." Alexius Carrow scoffed.

"Not all of them, no." Harry conceded. "There are monsters like Fenrir Greyback out there that revel in their savagery and want to make more werewolves. Those should be treated like the criminals they are, but punishing the innocent as well as the guilty only serves to create more Greybacks. How would you like to be treated like criminals for something done by Voldemort?"

There was the predictable gasping and shrieking at the name, bad enough that Dumbledore had to bang his gavel again to restore order.

"Well reasoned, Lord Potter-Black." The Chief Warlock said with an approving nod. "Your next suggestion concerns infected children and their attendace at Hogwarts."

"Yes, as things stand, werewolves are not permitted to attend Hogwarts. I believe this to be a mistake, as all it does is leave them uneducated and without prospects for the future, thus making it more likely that they will turn to crime."

"I will not have werewolves sharing classes with my children!" One of the Wizengamot members yelled, sparking a storm of agreement.

"Order!" Dumbledore bellowed, banging his gavel again.

"This suggestion is even more preposterous than the first!" Nott spat. "We'd have all our children turned before the first term was over."

"You make it sound as if I was suggesting that we let transformed werewolf children rampage through the halls." Harry bit out irritably. "Obviously, that isn't an option. Wolfsbane would have to be provided and diligent watch kept to make sure they drank it. Furthermore, a brief sexual education seminar should be held yearly to explain the danger of infecting others through sexual intercourse. Actually, Hogwarts could do with a sexual education class on general principle given the amount of hormonal teenagers there are in comparison to the teachers."

"And who is going to pay for all this? Wolfsbane isn't cheap you know!" A rather fat wizard blustered.

"I will provide some of the funds out of my own pocket." Harry answered. "You are all welcome to contribute if you wish of course. If things progress as I hope, we should have werewolf potioneers in a few years that are capable of brewing it for their fellows at a reduced price."

"That bring us nicely to your next point." Dumbledore spoke before anyone could object. " The proposal to establish a Ministry sanctioned werewolf sanctuary."

"Yes." Harry nodded. "I know that some of you disagree, but werewolves are – for the most part – as human as we are. They have the same needs and urges, with the inner beast overriding them only in the days of the Full Moon. As such, they want companionship as much as anyone. Far more wizards and witches are infected with lycanthropy through sexual intercourse than by attacks of transformed werewolves. Providing them with their own space where they don't need to hide their affliction will hopefully reduce such incidents. They will be unable to have children with each other of course, as the violence of the transformation invariably terminates pregnancy in female werewolves, but it would give them a sense of community and they could take in any werewolf children that have been rejected by their families."

The discussion went on for a while longer and people were slowly being swayed despite the efforts of Nott, Carrow and their ilk. It helped that Dumbledore also seemed to approve of his suggestions even if he didn't outright say it. Harry made sure to slip in as many insults towards Greyback as he could.

Eventually an end was called to the discussion and Amelia Bones quickly lent her support to the legislation, as did Augusta Longbottom and Tiberius Ogden and a few others that Harry suspected did it to curry favor with him more than anything else. Fudge did as well, finally talking after being conspicuously quiet the whole time. The bumbling Minister hadn't wanted to support such a contentious issue at first, so Harry had convinced him to simply wait until he could see where the wind was blowing before making a decision. Since that was what Fudge always did anyway, it was an easy sell.

Dumbledore declared that the motion passed and would be voted on in next month's session to see if they would start to implement the legislation or not. Harry promised to provide everyone with the full document rather than the abbreviated list they had received today.

As he was walking towards the reporters that would no doubt want to quiz him on why he had thought to champion werewolf rights, Harry's thoughts were on one particular werewolf.

 _Was that enough to bring you to me, Greyback? Lupin tells me that you're a prickly bastard, so it should be. Come back to Britain, where ten thousand eyes will be watching for you._

XXXXX

 **EDIT: Several people have pointed out that I forgot to mention that sexual fidelity is also a thing because fathers want to know the child is really theirs. My bad on that one, I suppose my dislike of children and procreation is to blame for that blunder. Thank you to those who pointed it out for me, I've now added that bit to the chapter.**


	36. Chapter 36

**In response to the guest reviewer asking if the story could have more plot – The chapter would have been about 4k words shorter than it was without the smut, but it would end at exactly the same point. And yes, I could mark where the porn starts and ends. Not gonna do it though. You may be thinking "But why? It only takes like two seconds and doesn't impact the story at all." and you would be partially right. There is _some_ plot importance among the porn if you've been paying attention so far, but I will admit that most of my reasons for not clearly marking where the sex begins and ends are rooted in my spite for the prudes running the website. I am aware that this impacts readers more than admins in much the same way that war impacts civilians more than generals, but look on the bright side! At least your house isn't being bombed. Granted, if you have the luxury of reading the writings of an unemployed neckbeard such as myself you probably aren't in any danger of having your house bombed, but it's the principle of the thing.**

 **In response to the guest reviewer that thinks it's demeaning when I use the word 'retarded' when not in relation to a medical issue – I'm really not sure what to say here...have you not been paying attention? Was there a paragraph or author's note somewhere that gave the impression that I cared to be politically correct or that your feelings matter to me? Calling someone a retard may not be technically correct, but it _is_ a common usage of the word when you want to let someone know that they are being especially stupid. Grow some emotional callouses or get off the internet. Also, as another guest reviewer pointed out, learn to separate an author from the character he writes, though in this case Harry is a fair reflection of me.**

 **And yes, I know Harry wrongly corrected Sirius. That was on purpose and I'm pretty sure it was elaborated on in the very next paragraph.**

 **And of course, much credit goes to Joe Lawyer for beta-ing.**

XXXXX

 _August 22nd._

Harry made his way down from the ravenry after Huginn and Muninn assured him that Greyback hadn't been spotted yet. Disappointing, but it had been less than a week since he had presented his werewolf legislation to the Wizengamot so it was to be expected. Still, he was feeling a bit impatient. Greyback was so much more interesting a werewolf than Lupin...

He paused and cocked his head sideways in interest as he came across Narcissa in the drawing room.

She was wearing a heavily modified set of dress robes. The base of it was clearly a black leather corset vest that did wonderful things to her figure even though he could only see it from behind at the moment, Bryanna's work no doubt, given her fascination with corsets. The sleeves and skirt were also black, though there was an occasional shimmer of dark blue. The skirt also featured a slit that revealed a tantalising glimpse of leg. Narcissa was just in the process of attaching a cloak to the outfit.

It was a sexy outfit and Harry felt himself stirring. The manor was unusually empty today; Dora was at work, Sirius had gone somewhere with Remus, Fleur had taken Luna shopping for a date he had promised to take them on...even Etal had buggered off to somewhere.

Smirking to himself, he cast a quick spell to muffle his footsteps and walked up to her.

Narcissa gasped in surprise when he wrapped his hands around her, one around her waist and the other around her neck.

"And where are you going dressed up like that?"

"I'm having tea with Daliah Greengrass, my lord." She replied with a slight waver in her voice.

"Are you now?" Harry murmured, moving the arm he had around her waist further south and slipping it under her skirt by way of the convenient slit. "What if I have some tension that needs relieving first?"

Narcissa gasped when his fingers slipped inside her and she squirmed in his grip, hands grabbing onto his for support.

"I shouldn't be late, it would be an insult." She protested weakly.

"So Greengrass is more important than me, is she?" Harry asked, twisting his fingers just so. He also wrapped her in his magic, perfoming the one-sided Joining that had made her his. Narcissa's magic, so conditioned now to respond to his, surrendered instantly.

"Never!" She gasped. "I am always at your disposal, my lord."

"Seems to me like you need a reminder." Harry purred into her ear. "I'm going to fill you up like a croissant before you go. Having to stay clenched to keep from creaming your underwear or Greengrass' chair cushions should do it."

Narcissa bit her lip but didn't resist as he bent her over the back of an armchair, lifted her skirt up and pulled down the thong he insisted she wear. There was no foreplay or teasing this time, just the sound of Harry's zipper and then penetration.

Narcissa kept her noises down to a minimum as he took her, still worried about being late but knowing deep in her bones that this was more important. She could make an excuse for her lateness, but there were no excuses for failing her lord, even if it was just to give him some relief.

"Harry, are you here?" Penny's voice was a deeply unwelcome event that had both Harry and Narcissa freezing in place.

"Fuck it." Harry muttered to himself and started thrusting again.

Narcissa couldn't believe it. They were going to get caught!

Sure enough, Penny appeared in the doorway not ten seconds later.

"Harry, I-" Was all she managed to say before laying eyes on the copulating pair and squeaking in surprise. "Sorry!"

Narcissa's face burned with embarrassment as the younger witch fled, but she didn't say anything. Harry grunted soon after and filled her up just like he'd promised. Getting caught had thrown Narcissa off enough that she hadn't been able to climax herself, but she still felt a fierce pride and satisfaction at the knowledge that Harry had enjoyed her.

Harry pulled out when he was done, pulled her thong back up and lifed her back up to their previous standing position.

"There, now you're ready to go." He murmured into her ear.

"Yes, my lord." Narcissa acknowledged shakily, clenching hard to keep his seed inside her. The underwear he had commanded her to wear felt wholly inadequate to the task of catching any leakage.

"Good girl." He said and gently patted her rear.

Narcissa took a deep breath once he was gone and used a few quick spells to fix her mussed hair and wrinkled clothing. Tea was assured to be interesting now if nothing else.

XXXXX

"Was there something you wanted, Penny?" Harry asked as he found his embarrassed steward hiding in her personal study. The look on her face made him break out into a grin.

"Couldn't you have found somewhere more private to do that?" She muttered with a beet red face.

"It was a spur of the moment thing." Harry explained, still grinning.

"Right." Penny said with a shake of her head. "Anyway, I had some things I needed to talk to you about."

"What things?"

"Pro...Septima sent over the final list of potential employees. She thinks it would be beneficial for you to give a short speech before putting them to work since they're coming into this from the ground up rather than coming to work for an established business."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, thinking that it was a reasonable request. He'd probably take Fleur with him too since she would have a share in the business as well, however small it was.

"Alright, set it for...the 25th."

"Alright." Penny acknowledged, making a note of the date. "You've also received some interesting mail, one from North America's Magical Congress and another from Ollivander."

"Let me guess, the Americans got word on Etal and are bitching about me 'stealing' their magical creatures or something and Ollivander wants a feather?" Harry said, amused.

"Pretty much."

"So predictable. Late, but predictable."

"What should I tell them?"

"Tell the Americans to kiss my ass, and make sure to spell it 'ass' instead of 'arse'. We don't want to confuse them."

"Harry, you can't tell North America's magical government to kiss your arse." Penny said in exasperation.

"I know." Harry sighed in disappointment. "Right, then just explain to them that he's not my pet, but a friend I made because we both speak Parseltongue and he followed me to Britain via his mysterious quetzalcoatl powers. Make sure you stress that I don't have the ability to control him. They'll still bitch about it and make unreasonable demands simply because that's how politics works, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Alright." Penny nodded.

"As for Ollivander...well I guess you can invite him to drop by and he can ask Etal himself."

Penny nodded again, making a note of it. Then she suddenly turned nervous. "Also, um, I'm moving out."

Harry's eyes snapped over to her in surprise. "Moving out? If this is about earlier..."

"No, not at all." She was quick to assure. "I mean, it was embarrassing and you really should be a bit more discreet, but it has nothing to do with it. Being able to live here for free was exactly what I needed at the time, but...well, I met someone while you were in America and he recently asked me to move in with him."

Harry smiled at the blushing girl, older than him but more innocent than he had been in a long time. "Good for you, Penny. Is it anyone I know?"

"No, he's not even a wizard. I told him I work for some reclusive lord that I have a non-disclosure contract with."

"Not that far off from the truth." Harry snickered. "He doesn't know that you're a witch then?"

"You know I'm not allowed to tell him unless I marry him." Penny replied, sounding a bit furstrated.

"But you want to?" He prodded.

"Yes." She sighed. "I'm sure he'd be alright with it, he's very open minded, but I don't want any trouble from the Ministry."

"If you want to tell him, then go ahead." Harry suggested. "I'll handle the Ministry if they find out."

"Are you sure?" Penny asked uncertainly.

Harry noddded and made a noise of confirmation. "It's the least I can do after all you've done for me and the Ministry sticks its nose into too many things anyway."

XXXXX

"Had fun?" Harry asked with a smirk when Narcissa emerged from the Floo a couple of hours later.

"It was an experience." She said wryly, taking off her cloak. "Now if you will excuse me, I need to visit the restroom and then I need to talk to you."

Now Harry was curious. "I'll wait for you in my study."

XXXXX

"So, what did you want to talk about?" He asked a few minutes later.

"A couple of things." Narcissa began. "As you know, I've been having tea with Britain's various prominent witches every day for the past week to gauge how they and their husbands feel about the werewolf legislation you proposed."

Harry nodded. Narcissa was a socialite down to her toes and was better able to sniff out the disposition of society's elite by gossiping over tea than he could ever hope to do by asking anyone directly.

"Well, there seems to be a general consensus that you should be hosting the ball celebrating the Dark Lord's downfall this year."

"Why would they think that?" Harry asked, puzzled. He'd never given any indication that he was intending to do anything of the sort, so this was more than a bit odd to him.

"Aside from your obvious role in the event, they expect you to use it to gather further support for the legislation." She explained.

Now Harry was even more confused. "But it's going to get voted on just over three weeks from today and the ball isn't until Halloween."

"Oh." Narcissa blinked in sudden realisation. "My apologies, I though you knew."

"Knew what?"

"No legislation proposed to the Wizengamot – or indeed anything at all – is ever agreed upon that quickly unless everyone is in favor of it. It could take as much as six months or longer before a final decision is made on whether to accept or dismiss it. You will be expected to gather support for it in the meanwhile, just as your political opponents will be doing in the hopes of having it thrown out."

"Great." Harry grumbled. He absolutely didn't want to even attend another one of those balls, much less host it, but he had apparently screwed himself into doing so. Fucking politics. "You think I should do it?"

"The legislation is unlikely to pass otherwise." Narcissa admitted.

Harry sighed. While he didn't _really_ care about the plight of the poor bastards that got infected with lycanthropy, he could hardly demonstrate that fact. Plus, Narcissa had worked hard on that legislation and it'd be a shame to let all that work go to waste just because he wanted to dodge a social function.

"I'll be counting on you to organise it." He said.

Narcissa favored him with a brilliant smile. "I won't disappoint you, my lord."

And Harry believed her. Not just because she was always eager to do her best for him, but also because she was really good at all this social crap and would take to it with enthusiasm.

"I suppose I'll need a date again?"

The blonde witch pursed her lips thoughtfully before answering. "Yes and no. The rules are somewhat different for the host."

"How so?"

"It is your home, meaning that you can get away with things that would be considered a social faux pas as a guest. You will need to be gracious and polite of course, but nobody will be able to comment on any oddities without coming off as rude. In fact, it may benefit you to use this to make a statement."

"What kind of statement?"

"What else? Power. While you _could_ get away with staying stag at your own ball, it would also cause you problems. Unattached witches would be climbing all over you in the hopes of getting their hands on your wealth and reputation. Instead, I would propose that you use the opportunity to present all three of your girlfriends. It will spare you from the attention of all but the most unsubtle and determined attempts to seduce you and also serve as a subtle display of power."

Harry sighed, tugging at his ponytail. "Dora won't like that. She's not much for these kind of stupid parties and I don't want to leave her out while I take Luna and Fleur. Can't I just take you again?"

"It would not be advisable." Narcissa warned. "I will be there of course, but I've put in a lot of effort to imply a lot of things about our relationship without confirming anything. If you present me as your date for two of these occasions in a row it would start up some troublesome rumors."

"They already think you're my mistress." Harry pointed out.

"Yes and that is exactly as it should be. The current public perception is that you killed Lucius after he tried to kill you and took me as your mistress. That shows both ruthlesness and mercy, as you could have extended your revenge on me and Draco as well and nobody would have blamed you. If it looks like I am more than a mistress, then people will begin to wonder if you aren't perhaps just a young boy who fell into the clutches of a cunning older woman. It would work in my favor rather than yours."

Harry went quiet for a while as he considered that. He hadn't really thought about what exactly Narcissa's socialising was doing for his public image before, but it made sense. It was aggravating, having to bother with what people thought of him, but it was necessary for the moment. Thankfully it was Narcissa doing most of the legwork, because he probably wouldn't have bothered if it was up to him alone. Adrastia's advice that he take her into his service was proving to be annoyingly valuable.

"I'll talk to Dora about it and see what she thinks." He finally said.

"There is another thing you need to talk to Nymphadora about." Narcissa said cautiously.

"What?"

"I think Andy suspects that you've entered into a relationship with her daughter. She was trying to get me to slip up about it when we last saw each other."

"Great. Is this going to be a problem?"

"Andy grew up a Black just like me and should accept it without issue, but Ted is a muggleborn. He won't understand that there is nothing strange about a wizard as powerful as you having multiple witches attached to him."

Harry's lips thinned and he nodded in understanding. It wasn't exactly the same everywhere, but in most magical communities it was downright expected of the powerful to have privileges that the average didn't have. Dumbledore certainly wouldn't have been allowed to hold three such prominent positions if he was merely average. Adrastia had backed off from her murderous plans in the expectation that Harry would one day be an enemy she could not afford to have. Voldemort's minions, otherwise proud and self-important purebloods, accepted the many indignities he put them through simply because he was powerful. Those same purebloods also liked to delude themselves into thinking that they were such people and blamed muggleborns for 'stealing' their magic when it proved false.

There was always someone arguing against this particular trait of magical culture, most often coming from the ranks of the average or below average. A predictable, petty, resentful and very human reaction when faced with someone better than yourself – trying to drag the impressive down to mediocrity so that you felt better about yourself without actually having to do any work. Hogwarts was full of useless little shits like that, though it was more easily excused there since they _were_ children. Harry also had a vague conspiracy theory idea that the Ministry bureaucrats were trying to drown magic in legislation in order to change the rules by shifting power from magic over to politics. He had no proof and it was probably just people being their usual dickish selves rather than anything intentional, but it still soured his opinion on government even further. A lot of the posturing going around in the higher levels of magical society was a replacement for intimidating displays of magical power. Even Narcissa's suggestion that he present all three of his girls at this party was one such thing.

To be fair, it happened with other forms of power as well, such as extreme wealth or a high political office. Even something as small scale as having a weapon conferred a certain privilege. It was a simple truth that any kind of power you had that others didn't meant you also had privileges that others didn't. Magic added a new dimension to it though, increased the margin of difference considerably. After all, wealth and political power was still dependent on the mob of regular people and anyone could use a gun, but a mighty sorcerer was practically an army unto himself and his power was entirely self-contained. And that wasn't even taking into account the warping influence of one's aura...

Even Fleur, with a veela's instinct for controlling their sexual partners, had eventually backed down and accepted that she wasn't going to be in charge, although she did need a sharp reminder every now and then... Actually, she could probably use another one soon and Dora would have to be shown that side of her anyway.

Speaking od Dora, if Harry was being honest he had expected more resistance from her, both to his plans for the Death Eaters and the open dynamic of their foursome. It was unlikely that he'd ever find out what combination of factors had led to her relatively easy acceptance, but he knew that at least some of it was due to his own ever increasing magical power and the lingering effects of the Joining. Harry was well aware that his use of the Joining on Dora before she was ready had shaved off some of her resistance where he was concerned, but there was nothing to be done about it now. The beautiful, quirky metamorphmagus would more than likely not be his if things were a little different, if he was a weaker wizard.

But he was digressing. The issue at hand was the reaction of her parents to Dora's relationship status. Harry did not personally think it was any of their business what their fully grown daughter was doing, but he knew that his opinion was not the one that mattered here. He would have to talk to the oldest of his girls and see how she wanted to handle it.

XXXXX

 _That evening._

There were many perks to being in a relationship with three people, but Tonks' favorite was definitely getting a massage from all three while soaking in a hot tub. She didn't even have to ask for it, all she had to do was show up after a long day looking tired and they'd hustle her into the water while dinner was being prepared. They didn't even care if she was faking it, it was great.

Sure, there was quite a bit of groping, fondling, nibbling and sometimes fingering involved, but Tonks let them have their fun even if she wasn't in the mood. She wasn't going to say no to a free orgasm even if the main point of enjoyment was whatever magic Harry was working on her left foot.

"I had some interesting news from Penny and Narcissa today." Harry was saying.

"Oh? What kind of news?" Fleur asked from her spot as Tonks' backrest, a position that she was exploiting shamelessly to explore the metamorph's body.

"The first is that Septima is finished with her list of potential employees and suggested that I come to make a short speech to them. You want to join me for that since you'll own a share of it as well?"

"Only 5%." Fleur pointed out.

"A share is a share."

"Will we get to play with Septima afterwards?" The veela asked slyly.

"I'm sure we could fit it into our schedule." Harry answered with an amused tone.

"I'll prepare the toys." Luna beamed.

Tonks didn't comment on their plans. This would be the third time that Harry brought the former Arithmancy professor to their bed. It was always him and Fleur coming up with these ideas, with Luna enthusiactically supporting them. Tonks had discovered that of the four of them, she was the most sexually vanilla and the least assertive. She could certainly be drawn into their games, but didn't initiate them. That was probably the reason why she found Vector much less interesting than the others, but she didn't really mind her occasional inclusion either.

"In other news, the Americans finally sent me that complaint about Etal we were expecting."

"Do you think that will be a problem?" Fleur asked.

"I doubt it, though we can probably expect a lot of posturing. There was also a letter from Ollivander, asking if he could have one of Etal's feathers."

"Do you think Etal will give him one?" Luna asked curiously, not stopping her ministrations on Tonks' right foot.

"Probably depends on how flattering the old man is." Harry answered wryly. "Oh, and Penny's also moving out. Apparently she got together with someone while we were in America and they're going to be living together."

"That's wonderful." Luna beamed.

"And also too bad." Fleur pouted jokingly. "I never did manage to entice 'er into our bed."

Harry sighed in exasperation. He'd never been particularly attracted to Penny. Sure, he definitely would have slept with her if she'd shown any interest, but he hadn't been willing to put forth any effort into seducing her.

"You need to calm your tits, you horny bitch." Tonks muttered with her eyes closed, still enjoying the pampering too much to really do anything more.

"Maybe you can calm them for me later." The veela whispered into Tonks' ear seductively, using her position to pinch her nipples gently.

Tonks merely let out a grumbling sound and settled more firmly into her backrest. She was far too comfortable to actually react more than that.

Fleur chuckled at the metamorph's indolence. "What of Narcissa's news?"

"That's a bit more problematic." Harry grumbled. "Apparently everyone expects me to host that blasted victory ball on Halloween and I'm going to have to go along with it if I want if I want my legislation to pass. And you can all look forward to being my dates to this one."

That finally brought Tonks out of her hedonistic daze. "Except me, right?"

"Nope, you too." He grinned at her.

"I don't wanna." She whined.

"Please?" Harry said, sounding very amused.

"Yes, Nymmie, please go with us." Fleur added her own weight to it. "I would love to see you in a dress for once."

"And I need a big, strong auror to protect me from the golddiggers."

"Fleur wants me in a dress and you want a big, strong auror." Tonks huffed. "Maybe I should show up in a frilly pink dress looking like a minotaur. With big, four-nippled breasts."

"That would be fun." Luna said perkily.

"Yes, it sounds udderly delightful." Harry snickered.

Tonks anf Fleur both groaned at the horrible pun and splashed water at him.

"Seriously though, I would like it if all three of you would be my dates to this ball." Harry said once they were done attacking him.

"But why?" She whined again. "Nobody even knows that we're a thing and I was hoping to keep it that way."

"Are you ashamed of us, Nymmie?" Fleur pouted.

"No, of course not, it's just...this is going to get _so_ complicated once people find out." She sighed.

And it would too. As soon as word got out that she was in a relationship with Harry, one that also happened to include two other women no less, she could kiss her comfortably low profile life goodbye. There would be articles in _Witch Weekly_ and the _Daily Prophet_ about it, there would be speculation about Harry's harem and how big he was planning to make it, there would be reporters showing up at the Ministry bugging her for interviews, there would be hate mail...

And her parents, oh Merlin her parents. It was going to be so _awkward_ , she could already imagine it. _Mum, Dad, you've already met Harry, he's my boyfriend now and this is Luna, my girlfirend. Yes, I know she's only fifteen,but nevermind that and look here instead, this is Fleur, my other girlfriend. Well not 'mine' so much as 'our', but you get the idea. No, Dad, I haven't joined a harem._

And then Luna would point out, calm as you please, that she had in fact joined a harem. She would probably even list all the ways in which it was a harem, even if it technically wasn't. It would be hard to refute her too, since Harry was definitely the focal point, regardless of the fact that they were all free to seek out other lovers. Only Fleur seemed to have any interest in doing that anyway and even that was more of a veela thing. It still wasn't a harem though.

"Well your mother is already suspicious and is probing Narcissa to see if she can confirm it." Harry said with a shrug.

"Fantastic." Tonks groaned.

"How do you want to handle this?" Harry pressed on. "I'd say it would be best to just tell them and get it over with, but it's your call."

"I guess." She sighed in defeat. "I'll pay them a visit, sit them down and lay it all out."

"Want us to come with you?" Harry offered.

"It's probably for the best if you don't, I'll have enough trouble with my dad as it is."

"That's a relief." Harry said with much exaggeration. "I only really offered out of politeness."

"Yeah, I figured." Tonks snorted.

"Now, about that ball..."

Tonks gave him a disgruntled look. "Fine, but if I'm going to that, then you're coming to a concert with me, and you're not allowed to complain about it."

Now it was Harry with the disgruntled look. Concerts were not his thing. Still, he wanted all three of his girls at that damn ball.

"Fine."

"And if a mosh pit happens, you have to participate."

"What the hell kind of concert are you taking me to?"

"The fun kind."

"The only way I'm jumping into a mosh pit is if I'm wearing the ugliest, spikiest suit of platemail the Black vault has to offer."

"Wrong music genre, Harry."

"There's a genre that involves platemail?"

"Well, no, but there are a few where it would probably make you the most popular guy there."

XXXXX

 _August 24th. Potter Manor._

"Has your wand been serving you well?" Ollivander asked once the initial pleasantries were finished.

"As well as any, I suppose." Harry shrugged. Most wizards and witches tended to develop quite the attachement to their wands over time, nearly a dependency really. That had been one of the more problematic aspects of teaching his girls wandless magic, especially Dora, who had had the longest time to develop this flaw. His had always been just a tool and nothing more.

Ollivander merely nodded, unsurprised. "I knew there was something off about you from the moment I placed the first wand in your hand. A child who had never done deliberate magic before would have been unable to coax anything out of such a poorly matched wand."

Harry kept his true opinion on wands to himself. Had it been up to him, wands would not be sold until much later, and even then only as a supplement to a magical education rather than the main focus of it. Better to have a small pool of excellent magic users than a horde of incompetents.

"I suppose you'd like to ask for one of Etal's feathers now?" He said instead.

"I would." Ollivander confirmed. "I do not often get to work with such an exotic material. Even the phoenix feathers that some of my wands now hold are incredibly rare. For the most part, I am restricted to more easily acquired items such as dragon heartstring and unicorn hair."

"Etal is rather protective of his feathers, but I could convince him to part with one or two." Harry said.

"You want something in return." Ollivander stated rather than asked.

"Yes, I want to observe while you make a wand out of it."

The old wandmaker looked positively affronted by that. "Lord Potter, I do not make it a habit to share the secrets of wandlore with everyone that wants to know."

Harry hummed at the predictable reply and then began speaking.

"The core draws on the wielder's magic, allowing for the casting of spells. Through some means I have as of yet been unable to discern, the wand motions somehow interact with a wizard's thoughts to shape the magic as it is drawn. After much practice and repetition, a wizard's magic becomes so conditioned that it develops a pseudo muscle memory that allows them to dispense with the motions entirely. Unfortunately, this also creates a psychological block in a wizard's mind that makes them equate the wand with their magic.

"The type of wood is a negligible factor in determining a wand's characteristics and is used as a diversion to thwart anyone attempting to ferret out your secrets. The real secret is whatever you do to the wood that turns a wand from a simple stick into a precision instrument.

"Most children are matched with a wand fairly easily, the only exceptions being those that grew up in difficult circumstances that forced them to grow up too quickly. Untrained adults are harder to match than children because they are less of a blank slate. Long term use of a wand creates enough familiarity with the workings of wands that it becomes possible to use a poorly matched one. Long term use of a wand also creates a bond between the wand and its user that gradually improves its performance. One can forcibly terminate this bond and imprint themselves on another's wand if they are significantly more powerful.

"Some materials are more powerful than others, phoenix feathers for example are well suited to the explosive releases of energy inherent in combat magic, whereas dragon heartstring is better at sustained magic such as Transfiguration and unicorn hair is particularly good at precision work. Once again, whatever you do with the wood makes use of these characteristics and refines them. As it happens, that is also the escalating order of difficulty in winning a wand's allegiance, phoenix feather wands being the most attracted to power and unicorn hair ones being the most 'loyal' as it were."

Harry smirked at the stunned Ollivander. "How am I doing so far?"

The old wandmaker regained his composure quickly and sighed. "Well, I did say that we should expect greatness from you when we first met. You have managed to learn much about wandlore from very little. I would offer you an apprenticeship if I thought you were interested, but I sense that your ambitions lie elsewhere. So I must ask, why do you wish to learn about wand crafting?"

"No particular reason." Harry shrugged. "I like learning about new magic, so even though I don't want to become a wand crafter, I still want to know what makes them work. You don't even have to explain what you're doing, just let me watch."

"Normally I would tell that you wouldn't learn anything that way, but you've already managed to deduce quite a bit more than most people ever learn." Ollivander mused. "Very well, I will allow you to observe as I make a wand, if you promise not to share what you see or already know with anyone else."

"Deal."

XXXXX

 _August 25th. Potter Manor._

Septima looked over at the dozen witches and wizards spread around Potter Manor's drawing room and enjoying the refreshments brought by Harry's house-elves and felt regret welling inside her.

They were all her former students, some of her more promising ones in fact. She had been certain that they would have bright futures as spellcrafters, researchers, analysts, enchanters or any number of professions that needed good Arithmancy skills.

Wishful thinking, she realised now. Most were muggleborn, with a few halfbloods mixed in. Harry had told her to prioritise them, but it wouldn't have mattered. Her former pureblood students had all gotten good jobs, even though they weren't always qualified for them. This group on the other hand, some of the brightest students she'd ever taught, had been stuck at jobs that were well below their abilities or had moved to other countries. Two had left the magical world entirely and returned to their roots in the mundane world, disgusted by the bigotry they'd faced.

They had agreed to hear Harry out, but Septima knew that they were mostly just humoring the request of a former teacher. Still, it was more than what the others she'd sent letters to had been willing to do.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt a tingle in her crotch, in her clitoris to be specific.

Her eyes snapped towards Harry, whose eyes shone with amusement at her reaction. A slight dip of his head drew her attention to his left hand, which she noticed was slowly rubbing the thumb and index finger together in a way consistent with the sensations she was experiencing.

Septima fought down the flush trying to creep up her neck.

Harry turned back to his guests and addressed them, though he didn't stop rubbing his fingers together.

"Thank you all for coming, I know that Septima's vagueness on what kind of job I want to offer you must have been off-putting." He began.

There was a murmur of agreement, but Septima was more focused on not giving away her arousal. Fleur was here too, standing next to Harry, and the veela's lustful gaze was a clear indication that she was going to be spending the night again.

It was starting to look like being shared with Harry's girls would be a regular thing. It was...not unpleasant, though she did have to say that she preferred it when it was just Harry. Fleur was creative enough, Luna was always interested in trying something new and even the more reserved Nymphadora could be fun when properly goaded by the others, but they were all women. Still, it was infinitely better than nothing and it wasn't like Harry wasn't there as well.

She wondered what kind of games they would play tonight...

She was so caught up in her pleasant little daydream that she missed Harry introducing Fleur and Penny and only snapped out of it when he adressed her.

"Septima?" Harry said, his eye gleaming with amusement and his fingers still rubbing against each other. "Could you please hand out the samples?"

"Of course." Septima said with a nod, hurrying over to the box that was set on one of the tables and hoping that nobody had noted her distraction. Or her blush for that matter.

Harry continued speaking and rubbing his fingers while she handed out the sample mirrors

"Septima tells me that all of you grew up in the mundane world, so the function of these mirrors should be familiar to you. They are voice activated and each is assigned a number ranging from one to twelve. Please give them a try." He said.

Septima watched with interest as her former students quickly figured out how the mirrors worked. She was entirely wizard-raised and had been stunned when Harry had showed her the muggle cell phone technology and how pervasive it was. For the first time, she had been able to grasp exactly how revolutionary his idea would be for the magical world.

Her former students seemed to be much quicker on the uptake than her if their excited conversation was any clue.

Septima stifled a gasp as a sudden burst of sensation cut through her thoughts. She looked at Harry and shivered at his superior smirk.

"You're intending to be a magical version of a mobile phone company then?" Dominic Moore asked. He was the oldest of her former students present, being in his late twenties. He had been one of the two that had returned to the muggle world after he had graduated rather than settling for whatever job he might have gotten in the magical one.

Harry showed no discomfort at being questioned by a man over a decade his senior as he replied.

"Essentially. At the moment, the enchantments are only good for video calls, but I intend to get an R&D branch going that will be under Septima's purview. The people working there would be tasked with developing improvements to the mirrors. I doubt they'll ever be as versatile as a smartphone, but that's no reason to not try."

Septima surreptitiously clenched her thighs together, just to feel her moist nether lips rub against one another in tune with Harry's fingers. That, added to his easy confidence, and she was having a hard time keeping her breathing even.

"And you want us to work at this R&D branch." Moore stated rather than asked.

"Some of you may be more comfortable in production or even sales, but Septima praised your skills with Arithmancy and Runes and I want to make use of those skills." Harry replied simply, waving a hitherto silent Penny forward to start distributing the employment contracts she was holding.

"Those are the terms I'm offering. You'll have noticed that each of you has received three separate contracts, all of them with different levels of benefits and restrictions. To summarise, the contract for a store clerk offers the smallest pay as it requires no skill with magic, but also imposes few restrictions. Conversely, the R&D contract has the highest pay and benefits but will also expose you to knowledge I don't want being spread around, which means non-disclosure agreements that will trigger a very unpleasant curse if broken. The production contract is for those that will actually be making the mirrors and sits somewhere in the middle in both benefits and restrictions. Septima tells me that you were some of her best students and I'd like it if you chose the R&D contract, but I gave you all three for comparison. Take them home, read them over and direct any questions to my steward. Penny can also refer you to legal counsel if you want a professional to look at them. Thank you for your time and I hope to hear from you again soon."

It was an obvious dismissal and her former students quickly shuffled out the door or through the Floo until it was just her, Harry and Fleur in the room.

"Well done, Septima." Harry said as soon as they were alone, putting his hand lightly on her neck.

"Thank you." She breathed out, trying to control her arousal.

"You deserve a reward." Fleur purred, seductively running her hand along Septima's arm. "Don't you think she deserves a reward, 'Arry?"

The hand on her neck tightened, making her legs quiver with excitement.

"Hmm, maybe. We'll have to test her a bit more I think."

XXXXX

"Alright, Septima, here's how tonight's game is going to work." Harry began explaining as he put a ballgag into the former professor's mouth. "You are going to hold on to this metal bar above your head with both hands and if you let go for any reason, playtime will be over and you'll be sent home. Understand?"

Septima, already naked and now unable to speak, did understand. They were going to exploit her desire for playtime to do horrible, wonderful things to her. She nodded.

"Good, then grab the bar."

As soon as she did so, she felt a tingling sensation go through the sensitive nerves between her legs.

"Oh, I forgot to mention something. That metal bar will transmit an echo of any friction applied to it to the groin area of any woman that touches it." Harry said with a smirk.

"I helped enchant and test it." Luna added proudly.

Septima gave Harry a helpless look, already clenching her legs together in a vain effort to give herself some relief.

"What's with that look?" Harry mocked with a smirk, pinching one of her nipples and giving it a slight twist. "I know you get off on this stuff, but it's a little early to be looking that desperate. We've still got _hours_ of fun ahead of us after all. Of course, you can always let go and give yourself a rubbing if you can't take it..."

Septima moaned something into the ballgag even as she tried to liberate her nipple from his pinching fingers. Of course, the fact that she was desperately gripping the iron bar above her head rather limited her ability to do so.

Harry turned to Fleur and Luna, who had been watching this spectacle with eager smiles. "She's all yours, but try not to get carried away. We don't want to make it too easy on her."

With that settled, he walked to the bed, where a nude Dora was already waiting.

"Where'd you get that idea?" She asked, amusement coloring her tone.

"It's not that hard to come up with stuff once you know what she likes." Harry replied and ended the brief conversation with a kiss.

He reached out with his magic, feeling her smile into the kiss as she did the same and completed the Joining.

Harry moved slowly down her body, first nipping at her neck in that one spot she liked and then spending a couple of minutes on her breasts. Her ticklish stomach he only pressed light kisses to and then he was at her core.

Dora enjoyed receiving oral a lot more than Fleur or even Luna did, so Harry took his time and made sure to give her the best possible experience. Given that it was one of his favorite activities, the Joining allowing him to clearly sense what she liked best and his ability to use minor spells to make it better, he was able to make it very good indeed.

The metamorphmagus spent a good twenty minutes moaning in pleasure, his own enjoyment of the act echoing in her soul and allowing her to surrender completely with no need for superflous thinking. When the climax finally came it made her whole body shudder, her hips bucking almost violently into his mouth as he eagerly lapped up her discharge.

Harry looked at his blissed out lover with a self-satisfied smile. Dora looked quite out of it, with her skin glowing from a light sheen of sweat and her hair was going through a spectrum of colors ranging from deep pink to a very dark blue, a sure sign that she was well out of it. His recent teaching's had allowed her to gain greater control over her special talent, so this kind of random morphing was becoming rare.

He brought her back to reality with a deep kiss, which she returned eagerly.

"Mmm, I love it when you do that." She murmured.

"I know." He replied smugly.

Dora huffed with a large smile playing on her lips, then she pushed him onto his back.

"Your turn."

He wasn't going to argue with that, so he settled himself into the pillows stacked against the headboard of the bed and let her do her thing.

Dora gave him another kiss, re-established the Joining and moved down his body in much the same way he had done to her, though it was faster.

Harry sighed in pleasure when her mouth engulfed him. He wouldn't say it, but of all his girls Dora gave the best blowjobs. Fleur could certainly bring him to orgasm faster, but she tended to rush it in her haste to get at the prize and Luna still had a few issues with her gag reflex.

Of course, just because he didn't say didn't meant that Dora couldn't feel it through their bond. There was nothing definite, but she could certainly sense the vague impression of being his favorite, which only galvanised her to do even better.

Harry sighed again and ran his fingers over the gently bobbing head of radiantly peacock blue-green hair, a sure sign that the metamorphmagus was basically preening with pride.

The position had other benefits as well, allowing him to see what Fleur and Luna were doing to poor Septima.

Apparently the two of them had decided that a ballgag wasn't enough and added an blindfold to it as well. Someone had also taken it upon themselves to attach a pair of nipple clamps connected by a weighted chain to Septima's nipples. This ensured that her squirming tugged on her nipples and made the whole experience even more torturous.

Harry suspected that Fleur was the culprit behind that idea given the fact that she was also occasionally smacking the older witch on the bum with a riding crop to force a her to jerk and send the weighted chain jangling and pulling on her nipples.

Needless to say, the former Arithmancy professor was painfully aroused by this treatment, her legs running with the evidence of it and her hands gripping the iron bar above her head as if her life depended on it.

Fleur was pretty aroused herself, with her head thrown back and eyes closed. Of course, that could also be due to the fact that she was holding Luna's mouth to her crotch.

Harry decided to remind the veela to let others have some fun too and sent a Nipple Pinching Hex at her.

Fleur yelped at the unexpected pain and shot him a dirty look, though it quickly passed when she saw what Dora was doing. Her eyes lit up with a familiar avaricious gleam and she nearly skipped her way to the bed, leaving Luna and Septima behind.

"Can I take over?" She purred into Dora's ear.

The metamorphmagus was not interested in letting her do so however, and merely moved so that her body completely blocked access to Harry's groin area.

Harry felt Dora's mix of amusement and determination to keep going and smirked at the pouting veela.

"Please?" Fleur tried again. "Nymmie?"

The only response she got was a throaty grumble that could have meant literally anything, though Harry could feel that it was basically a 'piss off'.

"At least don't swallow and save some for me." Fleur muttered sulkilly.

That was the wrong thing to say, as Harry could clearly sense the minor irritation and mischief Dora was feeling. She redoubled her efforts, now no longer performing to prolong his pleasure but to bring him to orgasm as quickly as possible.

Less than a minute later, he was groaning his release, buried in her mouth up to the hilt and discharging down her throat.

Fleur momentarily gaped at being robbed of her prize before she glared at the smug metamorphmagus.

"You greedy bitch, I wanted that!"

Dora wiped her mouth and her smug smile widened. "Tough."

Harry smothered a grin. He knew that Dora had done that specifically to spite Fleur.

Fleur looked like she was about to say something uncomplimentary again, but Harry cut her off by grabbing her by the hair, not painfully, but firmly enough that she couldn't escape his grip.

"Looks like someone needs another lesson." He said sternly.

Fleur's eyes widened and her demeanour changed completely, the pride and indignation vanishing like smoke.

" _Non_ , there is no need for that, I will be good." She was quick to say.

"Oh, but there is a need for that." Harry countered, slowly moving off the bed without letting go of her hair. "You've been getting more and more uppity lately, so a reminder is definitely in order. Look, Luna even got everything ready."

Both Fleur and Dora turned their heads to see the short, smiling blonde standing next to an unremarkable vault horse that wouldn't be out of place in a gym. Well, it wouldn't be out of place if it didn't have restraints attached to the legs.

"'Arry, please, don't do this." Fleur pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Fleur, it's for your own good." Harry replied and marched her over to the vault horse.

"Uh, Harry, what's going on?" Dora asked a bit awkwardly as he and Luna bent the protesting veela over the piece of gymnastic equipment and restrained her arms and legs.

Harry smiled reassuringly at his metamorphmagus lover and began explaining. "Nothing to worry about, Dora. As you know, Fleur is a veela and has a veela's instincts, this includes a persistent desire to be in charge during sex. Unfortunately, I like to be in charge during sex as well and don't much appreciate her attempts to usurp control, so I have remind her of her place every so often."

"All she did was throw a playful insult at me and I _did_ provoke her into it." Dora tried to argue, a bit disturbed by Fleur's pleas for mercy.

"No, Nymphadora, Harry is right." Luna piped up. "If he doesn't keep her in line, Fleur will just keep getting more and more demanding until all three of us are doing exactly what she wants all the time. It isn't her fault really, all veela are like that. Take just now for instance, I wanted to play with Septima too, but Fleur insisted that I lick her vagina. And she knows that Harry's penis is on a 'first come first serve' basis, she didn't have any right to complain if you didn't feel like sharing."

Harry decided that a quote was in order. "Everything is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power. Fleur here..." He punctuated his words with a slap to the veela's rump that made her yelp at the slight sting. "...is practically a living embodiment of that little saying. If I don't put her in her place, she'll put me in mine."

Though she still looked unconvinced, Dora nodded anyway.

"So, how do you even go about 'putting Fleur in her place'?" She asked.

"First, I need to get her desperately horny." Harry answered, amused.

"Just let him show you, Nymphadora." Luna chipped in. "We can play with each other in the meanwhile since Harry needs to stay close to Fleur to make sure that she doesn't set anything on fire."

"On fire?" Dora repeated in alarm.

"Yes, now tell me what you're in the mood for, sixty-nine, strapless dildo or futa play?"

"Isn't it nice to see them getting along so well?" Harry asked the bound veela, giving her rear another light smack.

"'Arry, let me go." She whined.

"You know I can't do that. You've been a bad girl, Fleur. Just look at what you've done to poor Septima."

Fleur looked sideways at the gagged and blindfolded witch, seeing that she was practically shaking with arousal and panting through her nose. She was also keening into the ballgag and using her legs to try pulling Harry towards her, clearly desperate for attention. The arousal wafting from her, both the physical sense of smell and the saturation of it in her aura, was starting to drive her instincts crazy.

It was about then that she realised something important.

"You set me up." She whispered. "You aren't doing this over what I said to Nymmie, you were going to do it anyway."

"Very good." Harry praised, running his fingers gently over her back. "Not _entirely_ correct though. I was certainly expecting you to do something that needed correcting and prepared accordingly, but I wouldn't have done it if you had behaved yourself."

"I will get you back for this." Fleur promised.

Harry leaned down to whisper into her ear. "You'll try, and then we'll do this again."

Fleur shivered, aroused in spite of herself. She wanted to ride Harry until he was looking at her in glassy-eyed devotion, but she also loved his strength. It was a terribly confusing situation for a veela to be in, but she wouldn't trade it for the world.

Seeing that she wasn't going to reply, Harry turned his attention to Septima, stepping closer to her and placing his hand on her cheek.

The former professor rubbed her face against his hand like an attention starved kitten, even mewling almost like one. Her legs went around his waist and tried to maneuver his member inside her.

"None of that now." Harry chided as he sidestepped her grasping legs, eliciting a pitiful whine from the gagged witch. "I'm sure you heard what we were talking about just now, Septima. I could really use your help to discipline Fleur. There's a reward waiting for you at the end if you agree."

Septima nodded frantically without even pausing to think.

"I'm going to need some of your blood, is that alright with you?"

Septima nodded again. She knew full well that letting someone take her blood was incredibly dumb, but she also couldn't help the excitement she felt at being put even further in Harry's power.

"Such a good girl." He cooed, giving the chain connecting her nipple clamps a light tug to make her squeal.

Harry used a pre-prepared syringe to draw a little blood and then he used a knife to cut a small lock of Fleur's hair. With the material components prepared, he forged a powerful, one-way connection going from Septima to Fleur, far stronger than the Sensation Link he used so frequently because it had a much firmer anchor.

Fleur immediately jerked in her bonds with a soft cry as her body was assaulted by the sensations that Septima was feeling.

Harry moved until he was behind the former Arithmancy professor and pressed himself up against her, making sure that she could feel his erection throbbing against her lower back.

"These must be making you sore." He murmured into her ear, tugging on the nipple chain again. "Would you like me to take them off?"

Septima nodded vigorously and nearly cried out in relief as her sore nipples were released from the pinching hold of the clamps and the weight pulling on them.

"Better?" Harry asked, using his hands to gently massage the recently freed nipples, adding a little touch of magic to cool them.

Septima shuddered and gurgled helplessly in his grip, already on the verge of orgasm from the stimulation and nobody had even touched her between the legs yet.

Meanwhile, Fleur was trying to control her breathing, but it was a failing effort. Her body was being overwhelmed with sensation, which would have been fine if they weren't empty sensations. Veela needed magical partners to feel fulfilled, otherwise it was just frustrating.

Harry knew this of course, and was exploiting it to the fullest.

"You've got a choice now Septima." He whispered, taking her blindfold off and going back to massaging her breasts. "I could give you what you want right now. I could fuck your hungry arse until you spray girlcum all over Fleur over there, or..."

Septima was nearly hyperventilating in excitement at the imagery invoked by his crude language. Her, hanging from this iron bar while he pounded into her from behind until she came and drenched the veela now looking at her as best she was able from the bound position she was in... Only the promise in Harry's last word kept her from nodding immediately.

"Or, you could hold on a little longer and prove to me how strong you are. There might even be a reward in it for you."

Septima desperately wanted to pick the first option, but Harry knew exactly how to push her buttons. It wasn't like there was anything holding her in place except the desire to impress him and get rewarded for it, so she tightened her grip on the iron bar and planted her feet more firmly, choosing further torment over immediate gratification.

"Good girl." Harry said approvingly and moved away from her.

"You see what a good girl Septima is, Fleur?" He asked the veela once he was back at her side. "Maybe if you were that good, we wouldn't have to do this."

"Hmpf." Fleur snorted, though the disdain it was supposed to convey was rather ruined by her lusty panting. "Even like this, I still get what I want."

"Maybe you do," Harry agreed. "but you get it on _my_ terms."

Fleur looked away and tried to focus on her breathing instead of on the maddening male musk so close to her face or the powerful magic emanating from him.

"Ah ah ah! You haven't earned that yet." Harry chided, stepping away.

Fleur snapped back to awareness and realised that she'd been straining her neck in an attempt to get his erect member in her mouth. She shook her head in an attempt to clear away the fog of lust and instinct that was creeping into her consciousness, but it was useless. The blood anchored Sensation Link was still feeding her Septima's excitement and Harry's proximity was doing the rest of the work. Soon, she'd lose control entirely.

Harry saw the downy fuzz appearing over her body and smiled, running his hands across the stuff and occasionally sending a jolt of feeling into Fleur's with a small spell.

"What's happening to Fleur?" Dora asked from the bed a couple of minutes later, finally noticing the transformation.

Harry turned to look at her and Luna, noting that they had apparently moved from sixty-nine to doggy-style, though there were no metamorph shenanigans involved this time. Rather, it was Luna wearing a strapless dildo, enchanted to stay put and vibrate of course.

"She's transforming." Harry explained, casually pressing on Fleur's anus with a knuckle and making her jerk in place as the nerves there were stimulated. "Veela can transform into a pseudo bird creature when angry as you know, but what you may not know is that it also happens if they're horny enough and don't get satisfied. The latter is far more dangerous. If I let her go now, she'd do her level best to fuck every single one of us until she was satisfied, whether we wanted to or not."

Dora took a look at the bound veela and could believe it. Fleur was covered in a coating of white and pale yellow fuzz like a newborn chick and her face had lost the ethereal beauty it usually possessed in favor of sharp, almost cruel features. She was also panting and stuggling wildly to get free of her bonds and her aura was flaring violently.

"Of course, the transformation isn't quite done yet." Harry continued. He stepped behind the veela as if he was about to stick his member into her flodded entrance, but he only placed his tip to it and stood still.

This seemed to be some kind of breaking point for Fleur as she started thrashing violently and bucking backwards, clearly desperate to have him inside her, but Harry still didn't budge.

The transformation continued to progress with the veela's rising frustration. The fuzz covered her completely, her arms sprouted feathers, her hands and feet turned taloned and her face sharpened further until it became a curved beak.

Then, with a loud shriek of frustration that was charged with magic like phoenix song, a pair of white wings burst from her shoulder blades.

"Whoa..." Dora said in an awed whisper, staring at the new appendages with wide eyes.

"So pretty..." Luna said at the same time, having never seen the transformation go this far before.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Harry grinned, acting as if he wasn't actually focusing most of his attention on blocking the transformed Fleur's attempts to conjure fire, free herself and rape them all.

"Now what?" Dora asked, still staring at the beating white wings.

Both she and Luna had were thoroughly distracted from their own play and simply settled in to watch what Harry was going to do next.

"Now I fuck her silly, obviously." He smirked and thrust forward, sinking himself into Fleur's gushing, scorching hot entrance in a single motion.

The transformed veela gave another avian shriek that was something between triumph and frustration.

Harry knew that words would no longer reach Fleur, but that was alright. He had a more primal means of communication in mind. She had been grasping at his soul for some time already, trying to Join with him and compel him to fuck her, but he had resisted it thus far. Now he reached out himself, wrapping the wild blaze of her magic in his own and pushing down on it, making it clear that he would be setting the pace and tone of their coupling.

She fought him of course, it was in a veela's nature to do so, to dominate and control those they had sex with and Harry had deliberately brought that nature out into the open instead of allowing it to stay hidden behind the deceptive beauty and grace. The transformation was so advanced now that her human mind was little more than a distant whisper in her subconcious, but she recognised the powerful magic of the wizard that was trying to tame her again and struggled with all her might to prove herself the stronger.

But no matter how much she fought, struggled and screeched, Harry held on, kept her magic contained and refused to move beyond that initial thrust.

It wasn't an easy thing to do. He was damned horny himself and the heat around him was incredible. Worse, she could feel his lust and was pulling on it like a champion, her magic promising pleasures untold if he would just give in.

But he had done this before and was far too attached to his self-control to surrender it, so they simply stayed in place for several long minutes until Fleur's instinct for control lost the battle against her desire and she slumped on the now sweat soaked vault horse with a defeated warble.

Harry groaned in relief as he was finally able to start moving. Holding back had been excruciatingly hard in more ways than one and he was glad he didn't have to anymore.

Fleur no longer struggled after admitting defeat, the primal mindstate she was in didn't allow for that kind of deception. She simply settled down and let herself be fucked, waiting for the prize she could feel would be coming soon.

And indeed it did. Harry couldn't possibly hope to last long with the tight grip her furnace of a vaginal canal had on him and found himself groaning his release in short order.

Fleur trilled happily as she felt the powerful seed flooding into her, triggering her own orgasm and causing her to clamp down even more tightly, not wanting a single drop to escape.

Harry was perfectly happy to stay buried inside her while he emptied the load all this teasing had built up in him.

The transformation started reversing soon after, the large white wings giving a final beat before they vanished, the beak and talons receding, the fuzz disappearing. Harry destroyed the blood and hair and undid her bindings as soon as this process began.

"Whoa..." Dora whispered again, having watched the entire spectacle with fascination.

"It's such a shame that only Harry can play with her like that." Luna sighed in disappointment.

"Huh?" The metamorphmagus asked.

"You remember how Luna said I have to stay close to prevent her from setting fire to anything?" Harry asked, casually moving to Fleur's side and letting the dazed veela clean him with her mouth.

"Uh-huh?" Dora nodded, idly wondering at how weird it was that it _wasn't_ weird to have a conversation with someone that was having his cock sucked.

"Well that was quite literal. The real battle for dominance was in the Joining. The physical restrains were only there to keep her from shredding anyone with her beak or talons, but if I wasn't nearby to destabilise her attempts to use magic, she would have easily burned herself free and then we'd all have been fucked, first literally and then figuratively."

"And we aren't strong enough to fight Fleur like that." Luna added.

Dora was both skeptical and slightly offended by that. Not that she had any particular desire to dominate Fleur, but she was a damned auror! Surely she could handle one measly veela?

"Well, nevermind that now!" Harry said cheerfully, pulling his once again erect member out of Fleur's mouth. "Who wants to go next?"

Septima screamed into the ballgag as loudly as she could, gyrating violently in place.

"Uh, I think you might want to take her of her first." Dora suggested, staring at the veritable river of sexual fluids running down the former professor's legs in shock. She'd heard of hosepipes, but _damn_.

"She does look like she needs it." Luna opined.

"You hear that Septima? I guess it's your turn." Harry said, smiling at the middle-aged witch.

Septima sobbed with relief and hopped in place from foot to foot as if she desperately had to visit the restroom, though peeing was the absolute last thing on her mind right now.

XXXXX

 _Later_.

Post-coital cuddling worked slightly differently with multiple partners. Generally it just happened to be between whoever was still awake at the time.

At the moment, that was just Harry and Dora. Septima had orgasmed so hard after the prolonged teasing that it had knocked her out, Fleur had been docile as a kitten for the remainder of the fun and had curcled up with a tired Luna a short while ago, leaving only the two of them left awake.

"I forgot to ask, how did your parents react when you told them about this?" Harry murmured, running his fingers through his lover's currently dark blue hair.

The metamorphmagus blew out a breath of air, feeling too comfortable and relaxed to tense up.

"I haven't told them yet."

"Didn't you say that you'd do it today?"

"Yeah, but I didn't."

"Okay."

"I'll do it tomorrow, I swear."

"No rush."

"Cool." Dora murmured and promptly fell asleep, the scalp massage proving too great a foe in her current condition.

Harry smiled slightly to himself and shifted the two of them into a more comfortable position. If there was one downside to having this many women, it was the fact that the bed was _never_ big enough. It could take up as much space as a football field and it would still be too damn small since everyone would just crowd the same spot.

XXXXX

 _August 26th. Tonks residence._

"Alright, Nymphadora, what did you have to tell us?" Andromeda Tonks asked as she set down the tea.

The metamorphmagus didn't even bother getting annoyed anymore. Much as she disliked the stupid name her mother saddled her with, anyone would get a bit desensitised after having that sore spot poked constantly the way that Luna and Fleur had been doing.

So she just took a deep breath and looked her parents straight in the eye.

"I'm in a relationship with Harry."

"I knew it!" Andromeda crowed triumphantly.

"What?" Ted spluttered, having known nothing. "I thought you said he was sleeping with Narcissa?" He asked of his wife. That had been hard enough for Ted to wrap his mind around.

Andromeda rolled her eyes at her husband's cluelessness. "Narcissa is just his mistress. Isn't that right, Nymphadora?"

"Yeah...and since we're getting it all out into the open, it's a four-way relationship that also includes Luna and Fleur."

"He's got a harem?!" Ted exclaimed in shock.

"No, Dad, it's not a harem." Dora said with an eyeroll every bit as centrifugal as her mother's had been. She'd known he'd react like this. "It's a multiple partner relationship where everyone except Harry happens to be bisexual."

"Lucky him." Andromeda mused.

"But-but..." Ted stuttered, not sure what to protest about first. "But you're all so young!"

"I'm twenty-three." Dora said irritably.

"What about the others then?" Ted challenged, latching on to that argument. "Harry would have just turned sixteen last month, wouldn't he?"

"Yes, and Luna is still fifteen, big whoop."

Ted spluttered again, thrown off by his daughter's dismissive attitude. "They're still kids!"

"Ted, there are no laws on the age of consent in Magical Britain and Harry is legally an adult." Andromeda reminded him.

"That doesn't make it right!"

"No, but it doesn't make it wrong either. I seem to recall giving you a very special birthday present in an empty classroom during our fifth year to get your mind off the impending OWL examinations."

"Andy, you're not helping." Ted protested, heat creeping up his neck.

"Helping you make an arse of yourself in front of our daughter? I should hope not." Andromeda smirked. "Fact of the matter is, it's none of our business what age they want to have sex at. I'm actually far more concerned about the fact that one of Nymphadora's harem sisters is a veela."

"It's not a harem." The metamorphmagus insisted.

"Why does it matter if one of them is a veela?" Ted asked, baffled.

"Ted, honey, veela are sexual predators ." Andromeda explained patiently to her clueless husband. "They've been known to turn men – and some women – into their willing slaves in the past."

"I find that a bit hard to believe." Ted said skeptically.

"It's true, Dad." Dora backed up her mother. "If Harry wasn't as powerful as he is, he'd probably be living in France right now."

"I take it that her... _charms_ are not an issue then?" Andromeda questioned.

"Eheh, no, Harry has Fleur well in hand." After what she'd seen last night, that was an understatement if ever there was one.

"I thought so, it takes a powerful wizard to keep a harem of witches in line, powerful enough that a veela wouldn't be able to have it all her way."

"It's not a harem!" Dora repeated hotly.

"I can't believe you're okay with our daughter being part of some boy's harem." Ted butted in, throwing his wife a betrayed glare.

"It's not a harem!"

"Oh for the love of..." Andromeda said in exasperation, ignoring her daughter. "Ted, it's really quite simple, power is is attractive. That's pretty universal, but it's especially true in the case of magical power. Harry is a very powerful wizard; magically, financially and politically. It would have been strange if he _didn't_ have a harem-"

"It. Is. Not. A. Harem."

"-I know you think that our daughter deserves better than having to share a man with two other women, but she's a smart girl. She wouldn't have settled for being part of a harem if it wasn't a good deal."

"IT'S NOT A FUCKING HAREM!"

"Mind your language, Nymphadora!" Andromeda reprimanded sharply. "And don't shout, it's rude."

The metamorphmagus threw up her arms in disgust.

Nodding to herself as if to confirm that her daughter had been properly chastised, Andromeda turned back to her husband. "Besides, you did hear her say that she's bisexual, yes? That means she's not exactly getting the short end of the stick in any case."

"Dumbledore is a powerful wizard and he doesn't have a harem." Ted muttered sulkilly, deciding not to reply to that.

"Putting aside his age, maybe he's mourning some lost love or asexual or something. Either way it's his prerogative and he's an exception. Powerful wizards and witches have historically had many lovers, simply because they could. Andros the Invincible, an Ancient Greek wizard famous for his skill with wandless magic just like Harry, was rumored to have had dozens of lovers, both men and women and even some magical creatures. It might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it makes a good example nonetheless – power is attractive, always has been and always will be. That's just how it is."

"I thought you of all people would know that 'it's just how it is' isn't a good argument, or else you'd have hated me for being a muggleborn like your family wanted you to." Ted countered.

"Those are two completely different things." Andromeda protested irritably. "One is ignorant, self-entitled stupidity with no basis in reality, and the other is simple facts. Hell, if I was in Nymphadora's place and had a wizard like the one Harry is shaping up to be interested in me, you can be damn sure that I would have seriously considered sharing him. This is all academic anyway since our daughter is an adult and fully capable of making her own choices."

"But..." Ted slumped slighty, sensing defeat. "I just don't want my little girl being some kind of third wife, and with a husband that has God only knows how many mistresses on the side."

"Dad..." The metamorphmagus sighed in exasperation. "First of all, nobody said anything about marriage." Though she was honest enough with herself to admit that it wasn't an unappealing prospect for the future. "Second, it's not like that. There's no heirarchy and Fleur and Luna are as much my lovers as they are Harry's. I'll admit that it isn't what I pictured my love life to be, but that's how the cookie crumbles. If I'd been the first girl that Harry got together with, then it would probably be just him and me. As it was, Fleur and Luna were first and turned Harry over to their way of thinking, I could hardly join up and demand they change things to accomodate me."

She didn't allow herself to feel any regret about breaking things off when it actually _had_ been just her and Harry. It had been the right thing to do at the time and the current situation was not without benefits.

"Why would you even agree to join up when it was already a three-way?"

"Alright, Dad, try picturing this. You're a red-blooded man in your early twenties and every relationship you've ever had was mediocre at best and plain bad at worst. There are a trio of incredibly beautiful girls that you are good friends with, who also happen to be in a three-way relationship with each other. You know that all three of them find you very attractive and constantly make invitations to join up with them. There are no laws against it, you have no personal objections to multiple-partner relationships and the only caveat is that two of them are also getting a little action on the side and might sometimes bring in another woman to play with. Are you going to say no?"

Ted looked away from his daughter's raised eyebrow, knowing perfectly well that there was practically no man alive that would refuse that kind of deal. How could he expect his apparently bisexual daughter to refuse when he couldn't honestly say that he would? Still, it was hard to let go of the idea that his little girl should have a man – or woman he supposed – that was completely devoted to her and her alone.

"I assume that one of these 'other women' that are occasionally brought in isn't my sister?" Andromeda asked pointedly, breaking Ted out of his thoughts.

"Merlin,no!" Dora said, face screwing up in disgust. "I know that Harry and I are related to some degree, but that doesn't mean I'd shag my aunt too."

"Hey, that's right, I completely forgot that they're related!" Ted exclaimed to his wife, grasping at the last hope he had for convincing his daughter to back out of this in spite of the resolution he'd almost come to five seconds ago.

"Yes, Harry and I share a great-grandparent, Cygnus Black II, making Harry and Nymphadora second cousins once removed." Andromeda nodded. " I checked once I started getting suspicious of how much 'magic practice' she was doing at Potter Manor according to Cissy."

"Huh...thanks for clearing up that up, Mum. None of us could ever be arsed to figure it out."

"You're welcome, though you could have just asked Narcissa."

"Yeah, well, we didn't. And just for the record, the 'magic practice' thing is real. Harry's been teaching me wandless magic."

"Really?" Andromeda asked with raised eyebrows. "That's quite a lot of trust he's showing you. You'll have to show us what you've learned later."

"I can't do anything amazing yet, but sure."

"You see, Ted? Our little girl isn't just some trollop throwing herself at a powerful wizard. Harry wouldn't be teaching her something that powerful if he didn't care for her."

"Doesn't being related to him bother either of you? At all?" Ted demanded, ignoring his wife's question.

Andromeda merely shrugged. "There's no reason why it should, they're far enough removed for it to be safe – doesn't even count as incest really. Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip have the same relation actually and their kids are fine."

Ted briefly considered pointing out that taking royal families as an example on marriage practices was probably not a good idea, but was cut off by his daughter.

"We're not planning to have kids anytime soon." Dora said quickly, not at all sanguine about the direction her mother's thoughts had gone in.

"Aw, and here I was hoping that you would give me some grandchildren to spoil."

"I'd rather not be a grandfather just yet though." Ted muttered.

"You won't be."

"That's too bad." Andromeda sighed theatrically, but her teasing smirk gave her away. "On the upside, a harem means three times as many grandchildren."

"Not a harem." The metamorphmagus muttered, but only to herself since it was clear that her mother wasn't listening. It was times like this that made her wonder if Harry didn't have a point about parents being troublesome.

When they agreed between each other that they needed to meet Harry again, this time as their daughter's boyfriend, as well as Fleur and Luna, she decided that he was definitely right.

XXXXX

 _August 30th. Potter Manor._

Dinner with the elder Tonkses was an odd affair, with varying levels of tension existing between the participants like a layered cake.

Andromeda, Narcissa and of course Luna were the most comfortable by far, chatting with each other and everyone else without concern.

Sirius came next on the scale, clearly able to sense the tension but being mostly just amused by it since it didn't involve him.

After him came Fleur, who was clearly doing her level best to make a good impression on Ted and Andromeda like most people would when faced with their love interest's parents.

Harry endured the small talk and pointless niceties with the grim resolve of the choiceless.

Ted was trying to relax, but was obviously distracted by the purpose of the entire ordeal. As a father, he was the one that was supposed to be making his daughter's love interests nervous, but that was hard to do when you were outnumbered. Not to mention that he was essentially in 'enemy territory' so to speak and the main target of his intimidating father routine was a wizard far more powerful than him. Plus, he was a rather mild-mannered man and Harry was...not.

The most uncomfortable by far was Dora, who appeared to be stuck in 'fight or flight' mode. She knew that her father didn't like her relationship and she knew that Harry wasn't going to give an inch. Then you factor in Fleur's unapologetic sexuality and Luna's bluntness...it was a shouting match waiting to happen from her point of view.

The dinner progressed well enough despite the slight tension, but something had to give eventually and it happened to be Andromeda's patience.

"So, Harry, Nymphadora tells us that she's become part of your harem." She said casually, hiding her amusement.

"It's not a harem!" Dora protested hotly.

"Andy, you know perfectly well that it isn't a harem." Harry said, giving Andromeda a deadpan look.

"It isn't?" Luna questioned looking honestly puzzled.

"No, a harem would imply that I control you girls."

"Oh, you mean like you do with Narcissa and Septima?"

Sirius started coughing a cough that sounded more like a laugh and Harry simply sighed, slowly pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Septima?" Ted repeated, the name being very familiar. "As in Septima Vector?"

"Yes, we play with her sometimes." Luna chirped before anyone could stop her. "She has a submissive fetish that goes wonderfully with Harry's domination one."

Sirius 'coughed' again.

"Come on, Siriurs." Narcissa said firmly. "I think we need to get that cough looked at."

"No, no, I'm fine." Sirius said, face red and eyes shiny from trying to keep his laughter down.

"I insist." The youngest Black sister said frostily and all but dragged him out of the room.

Harry decided that he would have to do something nice for Narcissa.

"Well, this is awkward." Fleur said once they were gone, amusement coloring her tone.

"Tell me about it." Dora muttered.

"Harry dear, how _do_ you find the time for all these women?" Andromeda asked, her eyes gleaming.

"A bit of a hassle to be sure." Harry replied with a humorless grin, deciding to simply plow through it. "To manage them all requires careful scheduling, a clear hierarchy of priorities, a high-functioning libido and a firm hand to keep the more willful ones in line."

"And you said it wasn't a harem." The middle Black sister jibed.

"Sounds like a 'arem to me." Fleur added, still vividly recalling the recent 'corrective lesson' she'd received. The worst part was that it was very much like something a veela might do, which meant that Harry was beating her at her own game, the damned sexy man.

"If it quacks like a snorkack..." Luna chimed in cheerfully.

"Snorkacks quack?" Dora asked incredulously.

"They very well might." Luna answered with authority.

"What the hell is a snorkack?" Ted asked, baffled. A quick glance at his wife told him that she was just as baffled as him, so that was something at least.

"Nothing you need to worry about." Harry jumped in before the conversation could go even more off the rails. "Let's just get to the point. You're here because Dora told you about us and you wanted to see for yourselves what it looks like."

Ted and Andromeda both nodded. While Ted was still holding out some faint hope that his daughter would change her mind and pick a more traditional relationship, Andromeda was more interested in seeing the dynamic between the four of them. Despite being supportive of her daughter's choices, she still wanted to make sure that she would be happy.

"I have to say that I'm not too happy about my daughter being part of a harem, especially after what you just said about 'managing' it." Ted said.

"Well there's nothing I can do about that." Harry shrugged. "Calling it a harem gives the whole thing some bad connotations, which is why I've tried to avoid using the word, but Dora is free to break things off at any time, just like with any other relationship."

Said metamorphmagus took Harry's hand in her own in a silent declaration that she wouldn't be doing that.

Ted didn't really know how to respond to that. He almost wished that Harry were more confrontational about it.

"What I'd like to know is if you're ever planning to marry my daughter." Andromeda said bluntly.

"Mum!" Dora groaned, hiding her face behind her hands. "Why do you have to be so embarrassing?"

"It's a legitimate concern, Nymphadora." Andromeda justified unrepentantly and turned back towards Harry. "I might not be surprised or upset at what the four of you have going on, but I _would_ like some assurances that my daughter isn't just another warm body for you."

Harry leaned back into his chair before replying.

"I don't have much respect for the institution of marriage." He began levelly. "It always seemed like a pointless formality to me, hollow and worthless. Where does some stupid priest or government official get off telling me that my relationship is now 'legitimate'? Piss on that. I know it may not look like it from the outside, but these three girls represent the majority of what I genuinely value in my life and I don't need outside confirmation for it."

Andromeda chewed on that for a while, carefully noting the way that all three girls straightened proudly at his words. It wasn't the response she'd been expecting or hoping for, but she kind of liked it all the same. Still, there were other concerns that needed to be addressed.

"What are you going to do about your position then?" She asked. "You are both Lord Potter and Lord Black right now. If you don't want the succession of those titles to become a confusing – and possibly bloody – mess you're going to have to designate a Lady Potter and a Lady Black if you intend to keep the lines separate, or just one if you intend to merge them. It means marriage either way."

Harry had known this already thanks to Narcissa. It was hardly the first time that two bloodlines had converged and ended up bestowing two lordships to a single wizard. When this happened, the wizard usually elected to have two wives and give each one ladyship of one House so as to separate the bloodlines again. It had happened with a female head of House a couple of times as well, which was slightly trickier and more time-consuming to resolve, but was done in much the same way.

Narcissa had suggested that he do this as well, making Luna Lady Potter and Dora Lady Black. Fleur was unsuitable since she was a veela and could only produce more veela, but a veela third wife would be quite a status symbol. She had laid out some well-prepared arguments for it as well, though Harry suspected that some of her reasoning for it was rooted in a desire to have Andromeda accept a reinstatement into the Black family and figuring that she would be more willing to do it if her daughter was made Lady Black.

Harry knew that Narcissa wanted to help, but he wasn't willing to use his girls as chess pieces to secure a legacy he found hard to care about.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Luna and Fleur don't care about marriage any more than I do, but maybe Dora will. I might even say yes if she proposes properly." He finished with a grin

"You prat!" Said metamorphmagus huffed, slapping him on the shoulder and then crossing her arms.

Harry grinned at her some more before turning back to Andromeda. "If push comes to shove and marriage becomes a necessity for some reason then I'll do it...or maybe I'll just say that we're married since I doubt anyone has the balls to call me out on it, but in the context of providing you some proof that Dora isn't just a warm body marriage is useless."

"I see." Andromeda wasn't sure what to make of Harry's attitude. It was decidedly unorthodox for the lord of a Noble House to be so...dismissive. It was starting to become clear to her just how much Harry must be relying on Narcissa to uphold his public image.

"I'd like to know why you need to sleep around with more women if these three are so important to you." Ted jumped in with his own question.

"Need?" Harry repeated with a sardonically raised eyebrow. "I don't 'need' to sleep with them. As Luna blurted out despite a talk we had yesterday on appropriate dinner conversation, Septima has a submission fetish that makes her fun to play with and Narcissa likes to be rewarded for the work she does for me. Both would mope if I stopped fucking them."

Ted shook his head, simply not understanding it.

"And you three are okay with this?" He asked of the girls.

"Of course." Fleur said, looking at the man as if he was mad.

"It would be awfully mean of us if we demanded that Harry stop having sex with them." Luna nodded.

"It's cool." Dora shrugged. She wasn't going to mention that it _had_ bothered her at first. It would just give her father more straws to grasp at.

"Well if it doesn't bother you, then I have no choice but to be okay with it too, don't I?" Ted said reluctantly.

"I have suggestion." Andromeda piped up, dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "Why don't we have ourselves a little get-together with Fleur's family? We're going to be sort-of-in-laws if this is as serious as it seems after all."

" _Bonne idée!_ " Fleur exclaimed, forgetting to use English in her enthusiasm. "My parents would love to meet you."

That it would also be a good opportunity to improve relations between Harry and her parents went unsaid. While she sometimes took Luna on her periodic visits back to France, they had not seen him since the last time they'd spoken. A group occasion like this would hopefully show her parents the parts of Harry that they hadn't been able to see the last time, the gentler parts.

Harry observed with a blank face as Fleur and Andromeda started planning out this family get-together that nobody had even agreed on. He had the distinct impression that he _would_ be agreeing to it though. Fleur clearly had her heart set on it already and he didn't want to spoil it for her by anti-socially refusing to participate.

Instead, he turned to an equally blank-faced Dora.

"See? I told you parents are troublesome."

XXXXX

 _September 15th. Potter Manor._

Today's Wizengamot session had been even more irritating than the last by Harry's reckoning. At least the previous one had given him a vague feeling of things getting done, but true to Narcissa's word, the vote on the legislation he had proposed had essentially devolved into a pissing contest between him, Nott and their respective supporters. Dumbledore, useless as always, had only been there to make sure it didn't escalate to actual violence. Harry really didn't get that, the old man was clearly in favor of the legislation, but he didn't use his position to help getting it passed, either by supporting him or undermining Nott. True, the Chief Warlock was only supposed to chair the meetings and stay neutral unless a swing vote was required, but since when did politics work that way? And what was the point of sticking to the script when two thirds of the Wizengamot or more was as corrupt as it got? This was why Lawful Good characters were stupid.

Harry had just finished venting his frustrations with the day to his girls when Huginn flew into the room and onto his shoulder. Before the raven even opened his beak, Harry already knew what he would say.

" _The wolf-man is here, at the cave to the east._ "

That was very close, less than twenty kilometers as the raven flies. Harry didn't think it was just a coincidence that Greyback would pick that place to bunker down, especially seeing as it was the day before the Full Moon.

" _Alone?_ "

" _Yes._ "

Well that was dumb, but neither unexpected nor unwelcome. Greyback clearly liked to settle his vendettas personally if what happened with Lupin was any clue.

"Alright, girls, time to suit up." He said to the other occupants of the room.

"He's finally slowed down then?" Tonks asked grimly even as she went for her basilisk hide coat along with Fleur and Luna. Harry's ravens had sighted Greyback some time ago, but he'd been moving about too much to get a fix on his location.

"He's come to us actually."

"Truly?" Fleur asked in surprise. "Was 'e intending to force 'is way through the wards or something?"

"Maybe." An important fact about wards was that they couldn't prevent anyone from actually _physically_ crossing through them. Attempting to do so with the more reactive sort of wards could have dire consequences depending on how the ward scheme was set up, but Greyback might very well have been counting on them not being raised to full power, or perhaps he figured that his werewolf magic resistance would let him tank through. It was one of the reasons why giants were so feared by wizards – their immense constitutions and high magic resistance rendered directly defensive wards useless against them. Even the vaunted wards of Hogwarts would fail to keep a determined giant out, only hiding worked. Fortunately, giants were very, very dumb.

"Reckless." Tonks muttered.

"Could have worked if we weren't expecting him though."

"Are we taking Etal with us?" Luna asked once she was done putting on her coat and boots.

"I'll ask if he wants to come." Harry said with a shrug and hissed a call out to the empty air, confident that the quetzalcoatl would hear it, wherever he was.

The feathered serpent had taken to vanishing randomly and exploring the world since they had arrived back in Britain. Harry also suspected that he was a bit sulky over his inability to help find Greyback, forcing Harry to rely on the ravens instead of him. For all his ability to track magical signatures over ludicrous distances, Etal needed a close up taste first so that he knew what to look for, otherwise it all blended into the vast amount of information the wind brought him.

Sure enough, Etal flew in less than a minute later, throwing Huginn a glare and forcing the raven to seek another perch as he coiled himseld around Harry's shoulders.

" _What is it?_ " The quetzalcoatl asked.

" _Greyback has been found and we are going to hunt him. Do you want to come with us?_ "

" _Yessss._ " Etal hissed with muted excitement. He also gave Huginn as smug a look as a snake could, knowing that the raven wasn't good for anything other than scouting.

XXXXX

Harry knew about the place that Huginn was talking about and side-along apparated his girls into the vicinity. Etal elected to fly since it was so close and rejoined them well before they made it to the cave that Greyback had holed up in.

"Remember, we take him alive if possible, but don't take any risks." Harry said quietly as they approached.

The girls nodded silently as they spread out, wands drawn and aimed at the mouth of the cave.

Harry took a few minutes to set up a few wards to block any attempts at escape via apparition or Portkey.

Just in time as it turned out, as Etal hissed a warning almost as soon as he was done.

" _He approaches._ "

"Well if it isn't the _great_ Harry Potter himself come to greet me." A growling voice drawled mockingly as the werewolf stepped out of the shadows of the cave. "And you even brought your pack of bitches with you. Ain't that cute?"

He was a big man, with long, matted grey hair and malicious amber eyes. Unlike Remus Lupin or most other werewolves, his lycanthropy was plain to see, from the fur growing all over his body and face to the claws on his hands and the fanged teeth his smirk was showing. This was a werewolf who reveled in his inner beast.

"How could I do anything else after the effort it took to lure you here?" Harry replied calmly, already preparing a powerful stunner.

Surprise flickered in Greyback's eyes for a moment before his smirk widened.

"Most people try _not_ to get my attention." He said.

"Most people aren't looking to kill you." Harry riposted.

"Hah!" Greyback barked in laughter, grinning widely. "I like you, Potter. You'll make a good werewolf, if you survive."

"And you'll make an interesting subject of study, if you survive." Harry retorted mockingly.

There was a moment of stillness as everyone realised that the pre-battle banter was over. The air was heavy with tension and the promise of violence.

Then the tableau was broken as Greyback roared, his body rippling and transforming even as he charged towards Harry.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise for a moment, not having thought that a werewolf could transform at will like this. Everything he'd ever read on the subject said that the change was always involuntary, but clearly the authors of those books had never encountered someone like Greyback.

Sirius and Remus had spent several Full Moons in the forests around Potter manor and Harry had spied on them his raven form out of curiousity. Even as a werewolf, Lupin looked weak and kind of sickly, starved almost, with thin limbs and a long body that was just shy of emanciated.

Greyback was very different. His arms were thick and muscular, his shoulders broad and his barrel chest rippling with muscle visibly even under the coat of grey fur. His legs were similarly powerful looking, though they were leaner and had the characteristic canine joints. His beast was clearly well fed.

Harry's surprise was not enough to stop him from casting the powerful stunner he had weaved while they were talking. It hit Greyback dead center and caused him to briefly stumble, but the powerful werewolf was able to shake it off and keep going.

By then, the three witches had also reacted and cast spells of their own. Luna conjured ropes to bind him, Fleur lashed him with a flaming whip and Tonks transfigured the dirt under him into a muddy mire, having incorporated that particular dirty trick of Harry's into her own repertoire.

Greyback managed to dodge the ropes, but the flaming whip hit him in the side and made him roar in mixed fury and pain. He immediately changed direction towards Fleur, intending to rip her apart in retaliation. The mud slowed him down a little, but he was still dangerously fast.

Etal reacted immediately and shot towards the veela like a missile, wrapping around her and carrying her away to a safer distance.

Harry had seen Greyback's intent and felt a surge of fear and protective anger. As he had taught himself to do through years of practice and meditation, he immediately used those emotions to fuel the power of his next spell, a fire whip just like Fleur's, burning red hot. The difference was that his was more controlled and wrapped around Greyback's right ankle. He immediately pulled on it with all the force of his mind and will, making the burly werewolf topple to the ground like a felled tree.

Greyback howled at the searing agony in his foot, thrashing desperately in an attempt to throw it off, but Harry held on grimly, making the whip coil even tighter.

While this was going on, all three girls continuously fired stunners at Greyback until he finally slumped into unconsciousness.

All four of them were breathing hard from the adrenaline rush as they watched Greyback revert to his relatively human form, watching warily for any sign of movement.

"I think he's out." Tonks said cautiously, but didn't lower her wand.

"Yeah." Harry agreed, slowly stepping closer. He was no less wary than his metamorphmagus lover.

"Thank you for the 'elp, Etal." Fleur cooed at the quetzalcoatl.

" _Yes, Etal, thank you._ " Harry added, pausing to give the snake a brief nod.

Etal didn't reply with words, but with a musical hiss that somehow managed to convey pure pride. That impression was reinforced by the way he sat around Fleur's shoulders with all the air of a king being carried on a palanquin.

"He transformed without the Full Moon." Luna noted.

Harry nodded absently. "The curse is _very_ strong in him, apparently strong enough to bring out the beast at will, but I think he can probably only do it close to the Full Moon."

"So...what do we do with him?" Tonks asked uncertainly. "Cuz I have to say I don't feel comfortable trying to hold him prisoner if he can transform into that thing at will."

She had a point, Harry conceded. They had expected to fight against a trained adult wizard who happened to be a werewolf, something that he was reasonably sure he could have done by himself. Greyback's ability to transform had been a nasty surprise, but given that they'd had him surrounded from the start and with Etal acting as an emergency escape had not been _too_ dangerous. Trying to keep him confined indoors was a different story however.

Still, he wanted to take his time examining Greyback.

His eyes then fell on the werewolf's mangled ankle, burned nearly all the way to the bone by his flame whip, and he had his solution.

"He wouldn't be much of a threat without his limbs." He said quietly.

Tonks looked at him in shock. "You want to cut off his arms and legs?!"

"Why not? It's not like we were going to leave him alive anyway."

Tonks had no response to that, though she was still unsettled by the casual brutality of the suggestion.

"He would have killed or turned us all if he had the chance." Luna pointed out calmly.

"I say we do it." Fleur added her own two cents, giving the downed werewolf a hard stare. Veela couldn't become werewolves, so she had no illusions about what this beast would have done to her and had correspondingly little sympathy.

Tonks was still uncomfortable with the idea, but she nodded anyway, unable to find any good argument against it.

With that agreement reached, Greyback was treated to another round of stunners to make sure he didn't wake up and then they went about the grim task of dismembering him. Harry used an impractical combination spell, a fire infused cutting curse that cauterised the wounds it made while the girls kept their wands trained on Greyback with more stunners at the ready to be fired at the slightest twitch. Once that was done, Kreacher was called to collect the severed limbs, which the slighly unhinged house-elf did with a smile.

XXXXX

 _Basement of Grimmauld Place._

"That just looks so wrong." Tonks said, shaking her head.

Harry glanced at what was left of Greyback, basically just a chest with a head and four stumps where his limbs used to be. They had amputated his arms and legs just above his knees and elbows respectively and put him into a rope harness so that he hung upright on the wall. Harry had to agree, it did look rather wrong, or perhaps disturbing was the right word.

"It's the only practical way of keeping him upright." He shrugged.

Tonks shook her head and changed the subject. "What are you going to do with his limbs?"

"I want to study them for a bit. They have an unusually high magic concentration for a wizard's body parts, but I suppose that's only to be expected given Greyback's condition. I've never heard of lycanthropy getting to the point that it affects a person's untransformed appearance like this, but I have some ideas as to how he managed it." Harry answered.

"Oh?" Fleur asked curiously.

"The werewolf is a very odd creature, it hates humans and will attack them on sight even if they're normally friends, but it doesn't care about animals at all. For the curse to be this strong, Greyback must have gone to great lengths ro reject his humanity in favor of the beast. Simply letting it do whatever it wanted while transformed wouldn't be enough. No, he had to have been acting like a werewolf even when he was human."

"But that means..." Tonks said, looking a bit nauseated.

"Yes, he's probably been eating people, and eating them raw at that." Harry nodded. "The psychological impact of cannibalism would weaken his connection to humanity and make the beast that much stronger. It would certainly explain why Lupin is so weak in comparison – he hates and fears his wolf, fighting it at every turn. It could also be that eating the magic infused flesh empowers the curse in much the same way that sex and blood does to veela and vampires respectively, but that's an educated guess at best."

Tonks shook her head in disgust. The clinical, detached way that Harry dissected the reasons behind Greyback's appearance only made it sound more horrible. Any objection she might have had against killing the monstrous werewolf were evaporating quickly.

"Do you think he ever gets indigestion?" Luna asked morbidly.

Harry choked on a cough that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

"Luna!" Tonks exclaimed.

"What?" Luna inquired cluelessly. "I don't think raw meat is good for your tummy."

Harry and Fleur both snickered at the strange juxtaposition between the topic and the language Luna had used.

"You guys have a really fucked up sense of humor." Tonks said with a shake of her head.

"But I wasn't trying to be funny." Luna protested, which only sent Harry and Fleur into another round of snickering. Even Tonks felt her lips twitching.

Etal, who was also present and had been merely observing silently thus far, hissed in confusion.

" _I do not understand, what is it that you find so amusing?_ "

Harry opened his mouth to explain, but Greyback started stirring and cut him off. It was worth noting that he should have been unconscious for a long time still given the amount of stunners he'd taken. Actually, he should probably have been dead from the amount of stunners he'd taken, but that was werewolf constitution for you.

The werewolf attempted to lunge at them as soon as he saw them, which was when he discovered his new state.

"What did you do to me?!" He howled in horror, looking at what remained of his limbs.

Etal hissed at the unpleasant noise.

"Disarmed you." Harry deadpanned.

"Dislegged him too." Luna added cheerfully.

Fleur and Tonks snorted, both thinking that Luna was simply not cut out for gallows humor.

Greyback didn't reply with words, but merely screamed his horror, rage and despair, thrashing violently the whole time.

" _So loud._ " The quetzalcoatl complained again.

"Are you done?" Harry asked unsympathetically once the werewolf slumped brokenly in his rope harness.

Greyback didn't answer, merely glared at Harry with such hatred that all four of them and even Etal felt nauseated by the way it poisoned the werewolf's already vicious aura. But it was a defeated sort of hatred, the kind you felt when you knew that you were beaten.

"You won't have to live like this for long if it's any consolation." Harry said. "You were one of Voldemort's allies, a dangerous one that I can't afford to leave alive. The advanced state of your lycanthropy presents an interesting opportunity however. Who knows, I might even discover a means of curing the infection by studying you. Wouldn't that be great?"

Greyback's glare somehow managed to become even more baleful.

XXXXX

 _September 16th. Grimmauld Place basement._

"Begin dictation. Chapter: curses, subsection: lycanthropy, subsection: werewolves, specimen: Fenrir Greyback, true name unknown, gender: male, age: estimated to be between sixty and eighty years." Harry said to the enchanted quill, a plain looking thing made out of a long raven feather, causing it to scratch out the words into the floating notebook, more of a personal grimoire really. The grimoire was also heavily enchanted and connected to the quill so that the topics of research were kept in order. That had taken quite a bit of effort to make properly, but it was worth it to keep his various interests organised.

"How can you be sure that isn't his real name?" Dora asked skeptically.

"Pause." Harry said and turned to her with a deadpan look. "I refuse to believe that any man could be named so appropriately. Lupin was bad enough, but Fenrir Greyback? If that was the name his parents gave him I'll eat my socks."

Luna and Fleur giggled, causing Tonks to roll her eyes and wave her hand to indicate that she was done talking.

"Resume. New paragraph. Subject shows werewolf traits even when not transformed, visually observable traits are: change in eye color, heavy hair growth all over the body, sharpened teeth, claws on the hands and toes and increased muscle mass. Magically observable traits include: a sense of wildness in the subject's aura, high magic resistance even in human form and magic infused in the body in ways consistent with magical creatures more than human magic users.

"New paragraph. subject has demonstrated ability to transform at will. Speculation: subject is only capable of this feat close to the Full Moon. Fact: a Full Moon triggers the transformation regardless of a werewolf's wishes. Fact: moonlight is reflected sunlight. Theory: reflection changes the magical properties of sunlight. Theory: duality of the Moon, refer to chapter on the connection of celestial bodies to Light and Dark.

"New paragraph. Speculation: subject is capable of transmitting a limited degree of lycanthropy to others when not transformed. Further testing required.

"New paragraph. Speculation: subject practices cannibalism as a means of rejecting his humanity and strengthtening the beast within.

"New paragraph. Subject refuses to answer questions and his intense hatred of me combined with the strength of his beast curtails my ability to read his aura. Subject's magic resistance and strength of will has also proven great enough to resist the Imperious." That had been another long conversation with Dora on the nature of the Unforgivables before she would let him use it. Irritating, but not unexpected, she was an auror after all. "As it is inadvisable to use Legilimency on a werewolf and the subject's high magic resistance would negate Veritaserum, I am unable to confirm my speculations directly. Corroborative study of other subjects required to confirm or refute. Skip to next page."

"Wait a second, 'other subjects'?" Dora interrupted again. "You planning on snatching more werewolves for your science experiment?"

"Pause." Harry turned back to look at his most troublesome girlfriend. "I won't grab just anyone, but my enemies are fair game. I doubt I'll ever find a werewolf quite like Greyback again, but there are bound to be others that don't reject what they are. I saw a few at Bjomolf's Christmas party that looked very powerful in their own right, but not so inhuman as him."

Tonks pinched her nose and her hair cycled through a variety of colors before settling on a subdued mahogany. "Just...don't get carried away, alright?"

"I'm sure you girls will keep me in line." Harry said with his most charming smile.

Fleur snorted derisively.

Greyback, who had been hanging from the wall in his rope harness in sullen silence the entire time, spasmed and began transforming. It was much less intimidating than the last time now that he had no limbs.

"Resume. Subject shows no discomfort during his forced transformation, in stark contrast to Remus Lupin, who shows great pain even with the aid of Wolfsbane. Theory: acceptance of the beast within eases the transformation.

"New paragraph. Subject is snarling angrily and his aura has become even more wild since his transformation, but he appears lucid. Fact: Wolfsbane weakens the beast within, allowing the human mind to assert control during the transformation. Theory: it is possible for a werewolf to retain their mind without the use of Wolfsbane."

Harry spent a long minute staring at the suspended werewolf, ruminating on what he could perceive through the wild haze of Greyback's aura.

"Chapter: curses, subsection: lycanthropy. Skip to end.

"New paragraph. Fact: demi-humans can become neither animagi nor werewolves. Fact: humans are animals, demi-humans are magical creatures. Fact: the Animagus Transformation ability is rooted in humanity's connection to the mundane animal kingdom. Speculation: lycanthropy hijacks this connection and forcibly alters whatever form the victim would have if they were animagi.

"New paragraph. Fact: the beast hates humans, but is indifferent to animals.

"New paragraph. Hypothesis: The creator of the lycanthropy curse hated humans but was indifferent to animals. Plausible, but insufficient information.

"New paragraph. Alternate hypothesis: The beast hates humans because it is in conflict with its host, who is a human. Plausible – animagus training requires one to accept their inner animal as part of themselves, failure to do so results in loss of self. The werewolf is unnatural and much more powerful than a mundane animal, the forced nature of the transformation and the hosts' resentment of their affliction compound the issue.

"New paragraph. Speculation: resolving the conflict between the host and beast would allow a werewolf to become a pseudo-animagus as in the case of Subject Greyback. Addendum: Subject Greyback is violently psychotic and thus unsuitable as a control subject, the vampires I saw at Bjomolf's Christmas party were nearly as strong but retained their fully human appearance. Paranoid conspiracy theory: the vampires know a method of taming the beast within and use it to bring werewolves under their influence. The beast may be inherently too violent for the method used when learning the Animagus Transformation. Note: research the connection between the wolf and the Moon more closely. End dictation."

" _What a strange practice, to write things down._ " Etal commented, rousing himself from where he'd been silently wrapped around Harry's neck. " _Would you not remember it if it was important?_ "

" _Maybe, but I like having things written down to better keep my interests ordered._ " Harry explained.

" _Will you kill him now?_ " Etal changed the subject.

" _Yes._ "

" _Good, he tastes of angry dog._ "

"Now what?" Dora asked uncomfortably.

"Now we kill him." Harry replied, drawing his little used wand.

He felt the encroaching Dark as soon as he resolved himself to making the kill. He had made an effort to be more cautious about touching it ever since Etal had warned him away from it, but it was harder than he expected. He had never bothered trying to keep the Dark away. It had always been useful – it made his aura far more intimidating, allowed him to think with an unsurpassed sense of cold clarity and gave all his spells a little extra oomph whenever he was in mortal combat. Now he was finding it hard to keep it away. It coiled around him like a thick mist, hungry for the life he was about to give it.

Etal hissed in warning and Harry lowered his wand.

"'Arry?" Fleur asked gently, touching his arm.

Harry looked at her and shook his head, trying to clear away the cobwebs around his mind. "I'm fine."

Fleur didn't look like she believed him.

Harry raised his wand again, but did not cast. He lowered it again with an irritated grunt.

"Harry, it's okay if you can't bring yourself to do it." Dora said, just as gently as Fleur.

"It's not that." Harry shook his head again. They didn't understand. It was _too_ easy. He wanted to kill Greyback so badly now that it was all he could do to hold back. Amazing what a man can overlook when he fails to question.

Luna suddenly wrapped her hands around him from behind in a tight hug. "We're here for you, Harry."

He smiled, patting the short girl's arms and once again appreciating her odd perceptiveness. "Thanks, Luna."

Fleur and Dora silently joined in, taking an arm each and reaching out towards him with their magic. Their bright souls, whole and strong and lacking a direct link to the Void, were proof against Dark and focusing on that instead of how much he wanted to kill Greyback slowly cleared his mind.

" _The Darkness has gone._ " Etal sounded curious, but satisfied.

Harry took a deep breath to center himself. _I'm doing this for myself and for them, for a future without the shadow of Voldemort hanging over us. I won't kill for the sake of killing, I can't afford to._

He raised his wand again, and this time he was able to cast the Killing Curse without feeling as if he was not entirely himself.

XXXXX

 _Two hours later._

Harry carefully shelved the last jar from the day's work. It was labeled 'werewolf teeth, Fenrir Greyback' and now sat next to a long row containing similarly labeled jars containing the now deceased werewolf's various organs and fluids and whatnot. All the jars were enchanted with powerful preservation charms to keep their contents fresh.

He had saved the skin as well, but would not be attempting Skinwalking with it. Attractive as the idea of being able to take the form of a werewolf on demand was, there were too many variables. Lycanthropy was only partially a physical thing, so there was a distinct chance that attempting to Skinwalk with a werewolf skin might infect him just like a bite and that wasn't even mentioning all the other variables like Greyback's own spirit and how violent the wolf spirit might be. Definitely better to stick to fully mastering a regular wolf.

The girls had left some time ago, being rather more squeamish than him. Etal was the only one still here with him.

Harry took another long look at the many jars containing Greyback's viscera. All of it was teeming with magical energy and would undoubtedly make for some interesting material for Potions research.

There was a problem however...

" _I need to find a new lair._ " He hissed at his serpentine friend.

Grimmauld Place was all well and good, but it was primarily meant as a family residence and call him old fashioned, but Harry didn't feel entirely comfortable doing this kind of thing in the middle of London, concealment spells or no. And what about long term prisoners?

" _This one does seem ill suited to this purpose._ " Etal agreed. " _Where would you make it?_ "

Harry considered it for a few moments before replying.

" _How do you feel about the cold?_ "

XXXXX

 _October 1st_. _Potter Manor_.

"Honeys, I'm home." Dora called out sarcastically as she apparated into the foyer.

Not ten seconds later, a grabby veela crashed into her and attempted to shove her tongue down the metamorph's throat.

"Fleur, take it easy for pity's sake, some of us need air to live." Dora gasped out once she managed to disengage. "I take it that Harry still hasn't stopped vanishing off to parts unknown then?"

" _Non_." Fleur huffed.

"Right." Dora sighed, recalling a bit of wisdom she'd heard somewhere.

Everyone wants a nympho girlfriend until they get a nympho girlfriend. Never had she understood that adage so clearly.

Ever since they'd taken out Greyback, followed by Harry's clinical observation and subsequent dissection of the werewolf, Harry and Etal had been going somewhere that they wouldn't talk about. They came back every day of course, but it was mostly just to sleep or bathe and no amount of nagging on the part of herself, Fleur and Luna would get Harry to reveal what he was up to. He'd always just tell them to wait and see and that he would be done soon. Teeny and Kreacher might know but they weren't talking either.

This was naturally quite frustrating, but the only veela in the foursome was frustrated in another way as well. Tonks had had no idea just how demanding Fleur could get when it came to having her needs met. Well, she certainly did now that Fleur had decided that she and Luna would be picking up his slack since Harry wasn't meeting them anymore outside of a quick shag every few days.

Even after seeing the transformation, she hadn't _really_ understood what Harry meant when he said that he had to keep Fleur in her place. Merlin, how could one woman be so demanding...

"Come, dinner is already prepared." Fleur said, grabbing the metamorph's hand and leading her to the dining room.

Dora held back a sigh. Quite honestly, she wasn't in the mood for sex right now and just wanted a break. _Oh, to spend an evening watching a movie or playing a game of Exploding Snap..._

Dinner was delicious as always, but Dora found it hard to focus on the moment and properly enjoy it. It wasn't that having sex with Fleur was an unappealing prospect, but the veela just didn't know when to _stop_ and neither she nor Luna had the disposition and force of personality necessary to force her compliance the way that Harry could.

She thought she'd be able to when seeing Harry do it, but now she was finding herself overwhelmed by human-Fleur. What bird-Fleur would have done to her didn't bear thinking about.

And it wasn't even as if Fleur was using force or anything, but it seemed that no matter how 'not in the mood' she or Luna were, the veela would find a way to seduce them. _Might as well just switch to male bits on a semi-permanent basis until Harry stops doing whatever the fuck he's doing_.

Dora ate as slowly as she could manage, finding an odd sort of amusement in Fleur's impatient fidgeting.

And then Harry walked into the room, completely casual, as if he hadn't caused a veritable domino effect of problems with his absences.

"Hey, girls." He greeted. "You almost done eating? I have something to show you."

"Can it wait until tomorrow?" Fleur asked quickly, looking at Harry with such intensity that Tonks almost expected his clothes to catch fire.

"It could, but it won't take long." He assured. "Aren't you curious about what I've been doing?"

"Of course we are." Tonks said, quickly wiping her mouth and rising from her seat.

"Show us, Harry." Luna added angelically.

The two of them exchanged grins at Fleur's disgruntled look.

"Come on then." Harry said, beckoning them to follow before turning to Narcissa. "I'll come talk to you after we get back, Cissy."

"Of course, my lord." The blonde witch acknowledged easily, making no protest to her obvious exclusion.

He led them down into the basement, towards the space he had reserved as his workshop.

Only, it was cleaned out now. The only thing left was a very large mirror, it had to be close to seven feet tall. The giant thing had an ornate wooden frame and stood on wide, sturdy legs.

"Please don't tell me you've been admiring yourself in the mirror for the past two weeks." Tonks deadpanned.

Harry merely smirked and ran his fingers over the mirror's surface. All three of them could sense a subtle spell trigger being used and the mirror rippled like a pool of water. When it settled, it no longer showed their reflections, but an unfamiliar room made entirely of dark grey stone.

"It's a portal like the one that leads to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters." Harry explained without being prompted. "I've found that mirrors make an excellent medium for this kind of spell, much better than brick to be sure."

"Where does it go?" Luna asked curiously.

"Step through and find out." Harry invited.

After a short exchange of raised eyebrows, all three women stepped through.

XXXXX

As soon as all four of them were through, they looked back to see that the mirror they'd stepped through just now was identical in appearance to the one they'd entered into.

"That was way more comfortable than the Floo, Portkeys or Apparition. It didn't feel like anything at all." Tonks said admiringly.

"I know." Harry said smugly.

"Does it 'ave a range limit?" Fleur asked curiously.

"Nope, it's subject to pretty much the exact same restrictions as the communication mirrors."

"You could market this too then." Fleur said in realisation. "People would be glad to replace the Floo with something more comfortable."

"I could." Harry nodded. "But I won't. The Mirror Walk is far too useful an advantage to be spread around to everyone."

"So you've left Fleur unsatisfied for so long to make this pair of mirrors?" Luna asked, somehow not sounding accusatory.

"Ah, sorry about that, but I really got into this project." Harry said a tad sheepishly. "And no, it wasn't just the mirrors. Come on, let me show you the rest of it."

He led them from the room, through a barren stone hallway and into a central staircase that was a lot like the one in Hogwarts, minus the random movements and trick stairs. There were no windows and the only illumination was provided by sporadic floating magelights.

"Did you build all this?" Tonks asked. She'd noticed that everything they'd seen so far was made of unnaturally smooth stone, as if the entire construction had been carved from a single block and then sanded to perfection, a surefire sign of magic being used to reshape the rock into the desired form. The dimensions of the whole thing also hinted at extensive use of Expansions Charms.

"Yes, although this central stairway is the only part of the inside that could actually be called anything near finished. Most of my time was spent on the outer shell and the spells necessary to keep it secret. It's got every concealment spell short of a Fidelius on it."

"What is it though, and _where_ is it?" Luna asked curiously.

"You'll see, we're almost at the top."

True to Harry's word, they only needed to climb two more flights of stairs and go through a very short hallway before they reached a dead end. There, Harry cast a simple animation spell and made the stone wall open like a door.

The first thing to register was the brightness, which was in stark contrast to the gloom inside or the after-sunset twilight of Potter Manor. The next was a blast of shockingly frigid air, again a stark contrast to the late summer of Britain, causing all three women to quickly apply warming spells to themselves.

"Did you bring us to the fucking North-" Tonks cut off her grousing as she stepped out of the newly made doorway and saw the view.

Rocky, snow-capped mountains, a narrow fjord with large chunks of ice floating in it and in the distance, an endless plane of blinding white. On the other side were two mountainous peninsulas hugging another fjord between them, and the ocean further out.

The view was almost completely unobstructed, except for the four large, stone spires spread equally around the platform they were on. They had come out of one of them, but Tonks could also feel magic imbued in them, probably to block out the wind.

"Not the North Pole, no, but we are a ways into the Arctic Circle." Harry answered the unfinished, sarcastic question. "This is Ymer Island, located on Greenland's eastern coast, about half way up the landmass. This was the place I was thinking about moving to originally."

"It's so pretty." Luna said dreamily, looking around with interest. Something caught her suddenly eye as she pointed and giggled. "What a funny looking mountain."

Tonks followed Luna's pointing finger, presumably west across the fjord, and decided that 'funny mountain' was a good description. It was a conspicuous, vaguely rectangular thing of reddish rock with a lighter stripe running diagonally across it.

"Interesting that you should notice that actually. It's called the Devil's Castle, or _Teufelschloss_ in the original German. I was seriously considering building on it, but I settled on this unnamed mountain range instead in the end. Makes the concealment spells more effective."

"Congratulations on finally getting your wizard's tower either way." Luna beamed, now looking over the edge of their platform.

"Thanks, Luna."

Tonks went to take a peek of her own and quickly took a step back as she saw the immense height they were at, though that had been clear enough since they were looking _down_ on the surrounding mountains.

"I thought you were just joking around when you said that one of your goals in life was to have a personal wizard's tower, and you actually went and made it in Greenland of all places too." She huffed.

"Maybe you'll think twice about doubting me in the future." Harry replied smugly.

Tonks rolled her eyes.

"I'm pretty sure that Saruman would be upset about you stealing his design though." Luna commented.

Now that she mentioned it, the four stone spires did give it a rather Isengard-ish feel...

"Fortunately, Saruman is a fictional character and thus unable to protest." Harry said airily. "Besides, he'd have no right to complain. It was the Dúnedain that built Orthanc, he just moved in after it was abandoned."

"So if I understand you correctly, you 'ave spent the past two weeks _playing with rocks?!_ " Fleur's voice was sharper than the arctic wind whipping around them.

"It wasn't supposed to take this long." Harry said apologetically, though his twitching lips ruined it. "Originally, I was only going to carve a few rooms out of the mountain so that I'd have a private place to keep all my more questionable research, a day's work at best. Then I remembered how much I missed my favorite thinking spot on top of the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower and decided to make one of those instead, but to do that I needed a lot of spells to conceal it from the handful of people that come through here. Then I felt that the whole thing looked a bit plain and decided to add some artistic touches. One thing led to another and...yeah."

The furstrated veela closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then gave Harry a flinty look. "We are going back 'ome now, where you will be making up for your neglect."

"You really should." Luna chimed in. "It wasn't very responsible of you to leave poor Fleur unwatered for so long."

Tonks wasn't sure if she should groan or snort at Luna's turn of phrase. She was sure that she agreed though – Harry needed to thoroughly fuck Fleur's brains out, coincidentally giving herself and Luna a break from the lusty veela's attentions.

Thirty minutes later, Dora and Luna were happily playing a game of blessedly non-sexual Exploding Snap in Potter Manor's drawing room while Harry and Fleur went at it like rabbits in the master bedroom. Neither of them doubted that Fleur was being fucked back into submission again and were happy to leave Harry to it. Balance was restored.

XXXXX

 _October 20th. Ymer Island, Ravenhead Tower._

"How are you feeling today, Gregory?" Harry asked politely.

"Fuck you, Potter." Gregory Goyle Sr. spat back.

To be fair, Goyle had good reason to be angry. Harry _had_ kidnapped him and his friend Vincent Crabbe from their homes and imprisoned them in his new stronghold after all.

Crabbe and Goyle were another two examples of 'low hanging fruit' where Death Eaters were concerned – their affiliations were something of an open secret, their homes sported no wards worth mentioning and they were terribly predictable. The only reason that Harry hadn't taken them sooner was because they weren't particularly valuable. Once he had werewolf parts to experiment with though, they had suddenly increased in value.

His girls had helped in the abduction and Dora had stuck around at first to make sure that he was not being excessively cruel or something like that. Unfortunately for Crabbe and Goyle, she had stormed out in disgust after they had been forced to confess to their many crimes under Veritaserum, no longer caring what happened to them. Harry couldn't say he was surprised, Crabbe and Goyle had done some fucked up shit.

He had alredy injected them with Greyback's blood and confirmed that it had some effect. Nothing obvious, but if Harry had to guess, he'd say that their inner animal had been affected. Unfortunately, it seemed that you needed an actual living werewolf to enact a true lycanthropy infection, as even injecting them during the Full Moon hadn't sufficed. He'd needed to transport them back to Britain for that one, since Full Moons were a decidedly different kettle of fish so far north. It was too bad that there was no real way to force them to learn how to be animagi so that he could see what that would do. Ah well, there were still other experiments that could be run.

"I have a potion for you to drink."

"Fuck off."

Harry sighed. Honestly.

" _Imperio._ Drink the potion."

Goyle drank the potion.

And immediately began clawing at himself, as if there was some monster in his chest trying to dig its way out. Harry was reminded of the chestburster from the Alien movies, oddly enough.

There was no toothy little creature exploding through Goyle's ribs, but there was something similarly dramatic. The death eater began growing fur and his agonised screaming became roaring.

Then he suddenly dropped dead, looking slightly more werewolfish than Greyback had in his untransformed state.

Harry took a deep breath and drew in some power from the Sun to drive away the lingering sense of Dark. This was an issue that he would struggle with for the rest of his life, this urge to kill and send more life into the hungry Void. He'd always have to be careful to not kill for satisfaction or risk yielding more ground. Nothing else for it though, much as he sometimes longed to wrap himself in the peaceful darkness, it was not for the living and he had lost too much of himself already. If it was just him, he might not have cared if he lost the ability to feel anything but the cold, but for the girls...

"Begin dictation. Chapter: experimental potions, subsection: Wolfsboon Potion, test subject: Gregory Goyle Sr. Skip to end.

"Variation two, potion brewed during the Full Moon proved to be more potent, but still fatal to a partial werewolf. Possibility exists that such a potion may allow full werewolves to temporarily transform without the presence of the Moon..."

Harry hadn't really intended to make such a potion and he had no particular use for it in mind, but that's what had come out of his experimenting. He'd been aiming for some kind of cure or perhaps something that could permanently weaken a person's inner animal as a means of deactivating lycanthropy, but all his dabbling so far had only resulted in effects that made the beast stronger. At this rate he was more likely to discover a potion that induced lycanthropy than anything else. Of course, he'd only had two people to test it on...

He was no Potions master, he did not have that innate knack for understanding the interactions between ingredients, but he did have a very precise magic sensing ability that allowed him to feel how stable or powerful a given potion was. Given enough time and resources, he could muddle something together.

And wouldn't you know it, the Halloween Ball that he would be hosting was in ten days. The ball that would be full of 'retired' death eaters doing their best to show what upstanding members of society they were. Since he'd been planning to kill them anyway, he might as well do it this way.

XXXXX

 **This chapter turned out way longer than it was supposed to and there was no good place to cut it in half either. That's part of the reason it took so long to get it out, the other part being that I was feeling lazy.**


	37. Chapter 37

**Many thanks go to Joe Lawyer for being an excellent beta.**

 **Honorable mentions go to reviewer one2manysmiles for bringing up an issue that I had forgotten to consider.**

XXXXX

 _Halloween. Potter Manor._

 _When will it end?_ Harry thought with some desperation as he gave a polite greeting to the newest arrivals and pretended not to notice how their daughter was eyeballing him.

Narcissa had warned him that the turnout was likely to be larger than normal since he was the one hosting it, but he hadn't really appreciated what she meant. It felt like half the magical population of the British Isles was cramming itself into his ballroom.

Narcissa was very pleased, unlike him. Then again, the only contribution he'd made for this ball was to tell the ravens and crows to make themselves scarce for the day. No need to be giving people any ideas.

The youngest Black sister had really gone all out with the preparations, so Harry supposed she had every right to feel satisfied. She'd advertised, spread rumors and gossip, issued invitations, hired musicians, decided on the food and drinks, made seating arrangements and much more. She'd even colluded with Bryanna, Tiana, Jade and Isabel to usurp control of their wardrobe.

Not that the results were displeasing. Harry himself had been crammed into an outfit that bore only a passing resemblance to formal dress robes and emphasised his physique. It was a tad uncomfortable, but mostly because it wasn't what he usually wore than any other reason. It was custom made after all.

The girls were much more interesting to look at in his opinion.

Fleur was as gorgeous as ever of course, but she was especially eye-catching today in a dress that looked like liquid silver and hugged all her curves. She had been the cause of much staring and stuttering already and was noticeably smug about it. Noticeable for him at any rate, everyone else was too busy either drooling on themselves, scowling enviously or fuming jealously.

Luna was still a bit young to pull off those kinds of shenanigans, nor would she ever have the curves or oozing sexuality for it, but she was looking very nice in an emerald-green dress and her hair styled into pretty curls.

The real showstopper turned out to be Dora however, much to the metamorph's vast discomfort. From what Harry had been able to discern in the lead up to the ball, she was simulataneously every clothing designer's and stylists wet dream and worst nightmare.

On the one hand, she could wear anything at all, in any color and adjust herself to match it perfectly. On the other, that meant that there was no way to be sure that they'd gotten her 'best look'.

Though if her current one wasn't way up there, Harry would eat his boots.

She was a bit taller than normal and a lot more curvy, with breasts and hips that attracted at least as much staring as Fleur did. Her dress was also chosen to take maximum advantage of her ability to have a perfect figure on demand. the elaborate garment shimmered a royal purple and hugged her body perfectly, revealing just enough slightly tanned skin to emphasise her beauty without being trashy. The final touch that made it so much better was the matching royal purple color of her eyes and the dark blue hair to contrast it, thick and wavy so that it looked like dark ocean water running down her head. Even her face was different, more sensual and attention-grabbing, though still identifiably Nymphadora Tonks. He'd had trouble not carrying her off to bed when he first saw her like this.

All three girls were standing to his right, the position for spouses or other kinds of dates. It was a bit awkward since there were three of them, but they made due by standing in a line with linked elbows, arranged by height, first Dora then Fleur and lastly Luna.

Narcissa stood to his left, in the position reserved for important servants or family members. Or both as the case often was.

She was wearing a pale lavender dress in a style similar to Dora's, though noticeably less impressive, with a small Black family crest sitting over her heart like a badge of allegiance.

The final member of their greeting party was Etal, who hovered above Harry's head at full size. That, aside from looking impressive, also let him get a taste for the magic of everyone that approached them.

They had been standing like this for a nearly an hour already and the stream of arrivals didn't look to be lessening just yet.

Harry couldn't spare much effort to feel annoyed though, he was far too busy continuously sending Dora a sense of support through his magic, or at least as best as he was able in this setting. She was feeling incredibly uncomfortable and was suppresing the urge to shift into a less extraordinary form. She'd always had the ability to make herself as beautiful and exotic as she pleased, but had instead chosen to be merely pretty and a bit quirky.

Given the usual reactions that her talent generated from people, it was understandable why she'd have an aversion to looking _too_ good.

So standing at his side in an implicit public reveal of their relationship, looking criminally beautiful, was very hard on her. Harry had actually not expected her to go this far, he'd thought she'd show up looking as she normally did aside from a fancy dress and he would have been perfectly happy with that. Skeeter was no doubt gnashing her teeth in fury at being unable to write some sensationalist garbage about a junior auror using her abilities to seduce him or something. The vicious shrew would have liked nothing better than to simulataneously imply that Dora was a whore and that he was just using her for her looks.

Harry had no idea how Narcissa had managed to convince her to do this, but he did know that he was going to have to do something nice for her above and beyond just taking her to a concert. Come to think of it, he'd also need to coordinate with Fleur and Luna so that they could all reassure her that she was loved and appreciated regardless of how she looked.

"Horace Slughorn, Potions Master!" The door herald announced, the name breaking Harry out of his thoughts.

"Slughorn?" Harry muttered to Narcissa through clenched teeth as the corpulent walrus waddled through the door. "What is he doing here?"

He'd never met the man, but he had heard about him. A shameless social networker that liked to 'collect' the acquaintance of the rich, the famous and the powerful. The old wizard had been sending out subtle feelers for some time in an attempt to meet him, but Harry had never been interested.

"He must have wrangled an invitation from one of the other guests, I certainly didn't invite him." Narcissa hissed back, sounding pretty displeased herself.

" _I wonder how far he would roll if you pushed him down a hill?_ " Etal mused just before Slughorn reached them.

Harry's expression cracked into a smile at the amusing thought.

Slughorn turned out to be more refined than his appearance would suggest. Not that it was a big achievement, but he was courteus in his greetings, gracious in his acceptance of Harry's welcome and didn't slobber over the girls' hands when he kissed them, which was more than some had been able to manage.

He was a bit too hasty to be considered polite in his attempts to establish connections however.

"Please call me Sluggy." The retired professor insisted with a wide smile. "Most of your parents did after all."

"So I've heard." Harry said non-committally.

"Wonderful!" Slughorn enthused, looking utterly pleased. "I do hope you'll make some time to talk to me later on."

"I'll do my best." Harry prevaricated.

"I look forward to it." The human walrus said and waddled off.

" _Porc._ " Fleur muttered.

"I was thinking walrus myself." Harry offered.

Fleur considered that before nodding. "You are right, that disgusting mustache does make him look more like a walrus than a pig."

Harry smiled slightly, noting Fleur's now perfect English pronounciation, though she still had a distinctive French purr to it. Narcissa had coached her on that for the better part of a month, much to the veela's irritation.

"I wonder how far he would roll if we pushed him down a hill?" Luna mused.

Harry had to quickly bit his lower lip to keep from laughing.

"Etal was wondering the exact same thing earlier." He said, his voice trembling slightly with laughter.

"Great minds think alike." Dora quipped.

Etal preened and Luna giggled.

"Don't giggle!" Narcissa hissed. "Here comes the next one."

"Thorfinn Rowle and his escort, Adrastia Zabini." The herald called.

Harry could only sigh wearily, resisting the urge to palm his face.

"What the hell is _she_ doing here?!" Dora hissed furiously.

"I'm sure she'll let us know soon enough." Harry sighed in defeat.

Rowle was a very big man, both in height and in girth. Unlike Slughorn however, his size was all muscle, a very rare feature on a wizard. Narcissa hadn't known if he was a death eater or not, but she did know that he held those kinds of views, which is why he'd been invited in the first place despite not being from a prominent family. Pureblood yes, but not noble or even significantly old.

And Adrastia looked as stunning as ever of course, wearing a tight black dress with a plunging neckline. In spite of Rowle's hulking size, she still managed to be the greater presence between the two of them.

"Mr. Rowle and Ms. Zabini, be welcome in my home." Harry said formally for the umpteenth time this evening.

"Thank you, Harry." Adrastia purred back, making Rowle tense. "Lovely to be here again."

"You two know each other?" Rowle asked, with a worried crease appearing on his forehead.

"In passing." Adrastia said airily, as if it was of no consequence. "Why don't you go say hello to some of your little friends?"

"You'll be there too, right?" Rowle asked further, a sliver of worry entering his tone.

"Of course, darling. Now off with you, I need a brief word with Harry." Adrastia shooed him away.

"Husband number eight?" Harry asked sardonically once the big blond lump skulked off. It was plainly obvious to him that Rowle was already caught in the Black Widow's web.

"I had number eight while you were in America, the poor dear fell overboard and was eaten by sharks while we were on our honeymoon cruise." Harry, Dora, Fleur and even Narcissa snorted disbelievingly at that. "Sometimes, only the fact that he left me his private yacht, his pride and joy, sustains me through the tragedy."

"My heart bleeds for you." Harry replied sarcastically.

Adrastia favored him with a sultry smile that gave her dark eyes a predatory gleam. "Will you save a dance for me, Harry? I would love to catch up."

"Sure, whatever." He sighed.

"Wonderful! I look forward to it."

"I bet you are." Harry muttered once Adrastia sashayed off, no doubt to put the leash back on Rowle. "Looking forward to complicating my life again that is."

XXXXX

The torturous routine of acting like a stiff-necked ponce as he greeted his guests did eventually end, even if not quickly enough for Harry's tastes. Then came time to open the festivities.

Harry danced with each of his girls while the other two danced with each other. It was a convenient way to shut out any outsiders looking to dance with one of them, either lecherous wizards or gold-digging witches.

Harry did still end up dancing with possibly the most dangerous woman present in short order though.

"So, what's up with you and Rowle?" He asked. "I didn't think he had anything worth taking."

"He makes for a convenient coat rack, but other than that you are spot on. The only thing I needed him for was to get into this party. Shame on you for not inviting me, Harry." Adrastia said, finishing with a pout.

"Could it have been because I didn't want you here?" He asked sarcastically.

"Nonsense." She dismissed airily and changed the subject. "I must congratulate you though, you've amassed quite the harem."

Harry rolled his eyes but decided not to argue semantics. "Why are you here, Adrastia?"

"Several reasons." She said lightly. "Foremost among is of course my desire to see you again after such a long time."

"Of course." Harry didn't believe a word of it.

"The next is to offer you a little gift."

"What gift?" He asked warily.

"Why, my date's life of course. He _is_ on your list, isn't he?"

Despite his best efofrts, Harry froze for a moment.

"What makes you think I have a list?" He asked.

"Come now, Harry, there's no need to be coy." Adrastia chuckled. "First you kill Lucius Malfoy in such a spectacular fashion, then three known pureblood supremacists vanish into thin air. Then you leave the country and things settle down, but soon after you return, two more disappear? That seems a bit unlikely to be coincidence, so I ask again, is Thorfinn Rowle on your list?"

Harry stared hard at the smiling woman, wondering what her game was.

"No." He answered without elaborating. The Rowles _were_ blood purists according to Narcissa, but not all blood purists were necessarily dangerous and he couldn't simply start killing everyone that _might_ be a recruit for Voldemort. That would require wiping out a good 20% or more of Britain's magical population.

"Hmm, perhaps he should be." Adrastia suggested casually. "His idea of pillow talk is to complain about you killing his precious Dark Lord and dream about how glorious the life of a lackey would be. Apparently he and a few of his friends were to have been initiated into the ranks of the Death Eaters during the 2001 Christmas holidays."

"I see." Harry frowned. "You wouldn't happen to know the names of these friends, would you?"

"Purely by chance, I _do_ happen know their names."

Harry nearly snorted. Purely by chance, yeah right. He had yet to encounter Adrastia in a situation where she didn't have some kind of leverage.

"And what would it cost me to get you to share?" He could investigate Rowle's friends himself, but he'd never be sure if he got them all...or if he got too many.

"Very little actually. Bjomolf would like to speak with you again."

Harry felt his expression harden at the mention of the vampire. He was still feeling sour about his last interaction with one of them.

"I can't say I'm eager to meet with him."

"Yes, that bad business you had with Ophelia. Bjomolf understands and will come to a time and place of your choosing, alone."

Harry's eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. That seemed terribly uncautious for someone that had managed to live for over a thousand years.

"Why would he put himself at risk like that just to talk to me?"

"He has his reasons I'm sure, but he didn't share them with me. Now, do we have a bargain?" Adrastia asked just as the dance was ending.

"I'll think about it."

"Excellent. Do let me know your decision before the night is over, yes?"

"Sure."

XXXXX

Narcissa sighed sadly as she looked over at the guests. Her son hadn't accepted the invitation she'd sent him. Harry had warned her that Draco would probably refuse to come to any party hosted by him, but she'd so hoped to reconcile with him...

With an effort of will, she pushed her disappointment aside and focused on enjoying her success. Harry was the host of course, but she had been the one to do all the work and that was something that she could take credit for. Everyone who was anyone knew that she was a trusted confidante to Harry and that carried a lot of prestige. Her word was taken seriously and she could wield plenty of influence, more than she'd ever had as Lucius' wife.

None of Harry's three ladies cared much for this aspect of their lives, but they were still very young. Until they were ready to take over, she would be happy to act in their place, though she wasn't above nudging things along a little bit.

XXXXX

"May I have this dance?"

Fleur looked up from her conversation with Nymphadora's parents and saw a familiar face. The face of the wizard that had asked her to the Yule Ball during the Twi-Wizard Tournament two years ago. What was his name again?

"You may." She said, holding out her hand so that he could help her up. She hadn't accepted many requests to dance so far, not with the unworthy wizards that had asked, but this one made her curious.

"It's been a while, Fleur." The wizard said. Fleur still couldn't remember his name. Something that started with an R?

"Almost two years." She said.

"How've you been?" He asked.

"Great, Harry has been wonderful." As if she didn't know why he had sought her out. Men were so transparent sometimes.

"Really?" He asked, sounding skeptical. "Does he even have any time for you with all those other women around him?"

Fleur nearly scoffed. Clearly he hadn't learned anything about veela over the past two years. Then again he didn't feel any stronger than he had then either, so that was hardly a surprise. The only reason he wasn't drooling already was thanks to her much greater control of the Allure.

So unlike Harry, who had never stopped growing more impressive.

"They are my women too." She purred, taking glee in the way his jaw slackened in surprise.

"Excuse me, Fleur, do you mind if Roger dances with me?" Luna's voice intruded, sounding a bit...giggly.

Fleur suddenly experienced an intense feeling of déjà vu.

"Not at all." She said, going along with what she presumed was happening.

"Wonderful. Come along, Roger." Luna said imperiously and dragged the surprised wizard off.

"But-" He tried to protest, only to have Harry talk right over him.

"Have fun now." He said and muscled into Fleur's arms, with her help of course.

"This feels familiar." She said with a grin as she watched the now identified Roger stare at them in disbelief.

"You don't say?" Harry said, smirking wickedly. No doubt he and Luna hadn't been able to resist a re-enactment of their Yule Ball save.

"You still don't dance as well as a Frenchman though." Fleur smirked back.

Harry leaned in for a possessive kiss that left her breathless.

"It's a good thing I have other skills then, isn't it?"

Yes, that was a very good thing indeed.

XXXXX

Amelia Bones hated these parties. She hated having to attend because of her position, she hated the politicking and backroom dealing they covered, but most of all she hated seeing criminals in expensive robes strutting around and pretending that they weren't scum.

With that in mind, she was doing what she usually did at these things, staying off to the side somewhere and keeping to herself.

And watching of course.

Potter was playing the gracious host well, but Amelia couldn't help feeling as if she was watching a man prowling for victims. It was possible that she was projecting, but there was just something about his body language when he spoke to certain people and the way he and that quetzalcoatl were hissing to each other in Parseltongue that had her hackles up.

Amelia's eyes slid over to one of the young wizard's dates.

Auror Tonks...Amelia wondered how much the junior auror knew. She was unlikely to be ignorant of it, given that Moody had trained her. Was she turning a blind eye much the same as Amelia herself was, or was she actively participating?

Amelia had to admit to having mixed feelings about that relationship. On the one hand, Auror Tonks was a promising witch with a good head on her shoulders and the idea that she was keeping an eye on Potter's actions was a relief. On the other, Potter might have subverted her loyalty like he'd clearly done with Lucius Malfoy's widow. Moody had praised her abilities and potential and that was no simple thing to achieve, so she was inclined to believe that Tonks wasn't truly compromised even if she was infatuated with Potter.

Of course, this all hinged on whether or not Potter was the one behind the recent rash of disappearances, but her gut was telling her that he was. Moreover, her gut was also telling her that Potter knew that she supected him, and that he also knew that she wasn't all that upset.

As luck would have it, the shapeshifting auror noticed her regard and started approaching.

"Hey, boss." The metamorphmagus greeted with the usual irreverence she had when not working. Amelia could never openly admit it, but she did like that. "You're looking about as happy to be here as me."

"Not enjoying yourself then?" Amelia asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Not in the slightest." Tonks briefly grimaced and shook her head, sending her currently dark blue hair spilling across her shoulders. "I can't believe I let Narcissa talk me into this shite. 'Your parents will be so proud' she said, 'you'll stick out like a sore thumb if you don't look your best' she said. What a load of bollocks, I feel like a prize poodle with the way people are staring at me."

Amelia wasn't surprised that people were staring. Tonks was looking incedible tonight. She'd also overheard some mutters over the presence of Andromeda Tonks, the banished Black sister, and her husband Ted. They were seated right next to Potter, which drew yet more muttering.

She decided to change the subject. "So, you and Potter? And here I thought that those stories about him hitting on you while we were discussing Black's innocence a few years back were just rumors."

"It's complicated." Tonks grimaced again.

"Yes, I imagine it is." Amelia said with a glance over to Potter's other two women, rather amused. The amusement quickly faded when she saw Potter dancing with Adrastia Zabini again. "I think you might want to rescue your beau before the Black Widow gets her hooks into him."

How it burned her to _know_ that she was looking at a killer and the best she could do was give out warnings. Zabini could have given Lucius Malfoy lessons on being slippery.

Tonks glanced over and a hard expression crossed her face. "Harry can handle Zabini."

That was a rather lot of faith placed in a teenager with known womanising tendencies. Amelia wondered if Zabini would mysteriously vanish soon as well. It would certainly serve her right.

"He's good at that, is he? Handling people?" She probed.

Auror Tonks looked distinctly discomfited by the question. "Pretty good, yeah."

"I suppose you help him do it? Keep him from screwing up?" Amelia continued casually.

Tonks briefly froze, confirming a great many of Amelia's suspicions.

"All three of us do, you know how men can get, haha." The metamorphmagus said with a nervous and obviously forced laugh.

"I'm sure he'll be fine then." Amelia nodded, ignoring the reaction.

A few minutes of tense small talk later, Tonks made her excuses and left her alone again. Amelia watched as she made a B-line towards Potter and whispered something into his ear. The powerful young wizard looked directly at her and gave a brief nod.

That was good, her tacit approval of what he was doing had been received. Hopefully so had the warning to select his targets carefully. Without any solid evidence, especially in light of Potter's prominence, it was about the only thing she could do, so even this fragile understanding between them was reassuring to have.

Revenge for her family was good, but not at the expense of innocents.

XXXXX

"Well, I think that we can call tonight a resounding success." Narcissa said with satisfaction once the party was over and all the guests had gone home.

The youngest Black sister felt that she had good reason to be satisfied, especially in light of the fact that she had been the main organiser. The turnout had been beyond expectation, Potter business interests had been advertised further in the wines used and clothing worn, the coming communication mirror enterprise had also been talked about. Perhaps most importantly, Harry had cut an imposing figure and all three of his girlfriends had been the picture of grace and elegance. Gaining support for Harry's plans should be a cinch now.

"And _I_ cant believe I forgot how much I hated these things." Andromeda groused from where she was slumped on the couch. "Serves me right for letting my baby sister cajole me into attending with the thought of seeing my daughter dolled up for a change."

"She did look amazing." Ted had to say even though he hadn't enjoyed himself overmuch either. There had been too much snobbery everywhere.

"She did." Andromeda allowed and looked at her sister suspiciously. "You were in charge of the outfits too, weren't you, Cissy?"

"I was." Narcissa nodded proudly.

"I figured as much with the way it was all arranged so that it practically screamed that Nymphadora was to be the next Lady Black."

"What?" Ted blinked.

Andromeda and Narcissa exchanged a look that communicated volumes of exasperation with the male species.

"Narcissa was basically dressed in a much less impressive version of what Nymphadora was wearing. By itself that would have been just a subtle indicator of their respective esteem in the eyes of the family head, but she also had the Black family crest on her dress. Again, by itself that would have been nothing more than an archaic bit of symbolism denoting loyalty to House Black. Combined, along with the occassion and whatever rumors Cissy might have been spreading, it all came off as a heavy-handed hint that our daughter is the Lady Black in all but name." Andromeda explained to her clueless husband before turning a glare back onto her sister. "Though I have a feeling that Harry and Nymphadora aren't aware of it."

Ted blinked again and shook his head. All these unspoken social cues that the purebloods were so fond of were ridiculous.

Narcissa lifted her chin unrepentantly. "Her manners may be a bit rough around the edges, but she would make an excellent Lady Black. I'm sure that Harry will eventually stop being obstinate and marry her. Maybe it'll even get _you_ to stop being stubborn and accept a reinstatement into the family."

"The boy's only sixteen, you can't expect him to be marrying anyone." Ted protested, but was summarily ignored by the Black sisters.

Andromeda growled in aggravation. Her sister had been insistently pestering her to accept Harry's standing offer of reinstatement for some time now.

"What good would that do, Cissy?" She demanded. "It's just a load of pointless posturing:"

"I just want my big sister back." Narcissa said, staring back soulfully.

"Don't give me that look!" Andromeda snarked. "It hasn't worked since you were seven and it isn't going to work now. And we're still sisters."

"Would it really be so terrible?" Narcissa asked with a sigh. "You know that it isn't the same Black family that you walked out on. Aside from Harry, Sirius is the only official member left and he'd like nothing better than to watch it go extinct."

Andromeda scowled, but Narcissa didn't ease up with the doe eyes.

"I'll think about it." She finally huffed grudgingly a good minute later.

"That's all I ask." Narcissa said smoothly, prompting a snort from her sister.

"We should probably get going." Ted said after a slightly awkward moment of silence.

"You could spend the night." Narcissa suggested. "There's plenty of room."

"I'm not sure if I'm comfortable staying in the same house that my daughter is probably having an orgy in at this very moment." Ted grimaced.

XXXXX

"Nymphadora?" Luna questioned.

Some incomprehensible sounds were the only answer she received. Of course, that was only to be expected since the metamorphmagus was currently lying belly down on the bed, with her face buried in a pillow.

It was a position decidedly lacking in grace.

"Nymphadora?" Luna tried again, only to get the same incoherent reply.

Luna turned to look at Harry and Fleur, who were just watching with amused eyes.

"Come on, Dora, talk to us. What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"Nothing." She huffed.

"If there's nothing wrong, then why are you sulking?" Luna asked reasonably.

"Can't a girl sulk for no reason?" Nymphadora sulked.

Luna considered that for a moment before nodding to herself. A girl could, in fact, sulk for no reason.

"But why would you want to?" She questioned out loud. "Sulking isn't a very pleasant activity, now is it?"

"This ball wasn't a very pleasant activity, but we still did it."

"It wasn't _that_ bad." Fleur said, sounding like she was holding back laughter.

"Yes it was!" Nymphadora pouted. "Sirius had the right idea in regards to it."

Sirius had barely heard the word 'ball' before making plans to be elsewhere on the day. Luna knew this because Narcissa had chewed him out for it quite loudly.

"So how long are you going to sulk?" Luna asked.

"Until I forget how everyone was trying to suck up to me just because I'm fucking Harry."

"You should try actually _being_ me for a day." Harry said with a chuckle. "I had four men trying to pimp their daughters out to me in exchange for favors, one woman offering both herself _and_ her daughter, five offers of a bathroom quickie and three subtle inquiries if I have room for more mistresses. And that's just the sexual parts, I must've gotten at least three times that amount of non-sexual propositions."

"Yeah, I got some of that too." Nymphadora said grumpily, propping herself up on her elbows. "I'm going to have to deal with that bullshit all the time now aren't I?"

"It's a distinct possibility." Harry admitted.

Nymphadora sighed in defeat and slumped back into the pillow.

"My life is ruined."

"Don't you think you're being just a little melodramatic?" Harry asked.

Luna had to agree. It was rather melodramatic.

"No!" Nymphadora wailed melodramatically.

"How is it that the oldest of us is the most immature?" Fleur wondered.

"You don't understand!" Nymphadora continued unabated. "How am I supposed to do my job properly if everyone thinks of me as just one of Harry's harem girls?"

Harry rolled his eyes and reached out with his arm as if grabbing something. Nymphadora levitated into the air with a yelp.

"Hey, what gives?" She demanded. "Put me down!"

"Girls, could you please undress her." Harry requested.

"Okay." Luna chirped.

"Gladly." Fleur smirked.

"Don't you dare!" Nymphadora threatened, but was rather hindered by the fact that she was floating in the air.

Despite the metamorph's attempts to resist, Luna and Fleur had no trouble undressing her, at which point Harry stepped forward and took her into his arms bridal style.

"What you need is a nice warm soak to calm you down." He said, calmly walking towards the bathroom.

Nymphadora muttered something that Luna didn't catch, but she didn't struggle and merely leaned her head against Harry's chest.

A few minutes later, all four of them were sitting in the large tub and enjoying the hot water. Nymphadora was still trying to sulk, but was failing to do it properly thanks to the pampering she was receiving.

"I know these parties are a pain in the arse and that the sudden public exposure doesn't agree with you, but it'll be fine." Harry was saying soothingly. "Give it a week or two at the most and the sheep will lose interest."

"Did you at least get what you needed?" Nymphadora asked with a sigh, leaning against him.

"Oh yes, Etal got all of their scents. A little time spent gathering intelligence on their movements and making plans and we can snatch them up." Harry answered with a vicious smirk.

Luna didn't much care for this business of hunting down the Death Eaters. She didn't like hurting people in general. Still, these were the same people that had taken Daddy away from her and would kill Harry and Fleur and Nymphadora and her if they got the chance. They weren't likely to change their ways and if Voldemort came back they would return to his side. Killing them was the only way to stop them, so it had to be done. She was just glad that Harry could do it since she doubted she would have been able to by herself.

"That's good I suppose." Nymphadora muttered. "And Bonesy as good as gave us her blessing."

Luna decided that things were entirely too grim, so she grabbed Harry's erection and beamed at him. "Dibs!"

"Hey, that's not fair!" Fleur protested immediately.

"All is fair in love and war." Nymphadora quoted with a snicker, getting a betrayed look from the veela.

Luna was pleased. Her loves were smiling and laughing. She was almost tempted to let Fleur have the first go at Harry's penis to make her happy.

Then he pulled her into his lap, kissed her and wrapped her in his powerful magic and she decided that she didn't want to do that after all.

XXXXX

 _November 5th._

Adrastia poured herself a glass of wine and looked over at the sleeping wizard sprawled on her bed.

Thorfinn Rowle was dumb as a post and had certain notions about women. The lump had thought to turn the tables on her and take the money she had amassed for himself, after he got bored of fucking her of course. A fool, but not the first to think up that scheme. Certainly not the brightest.

She was on her third glass of wine when the knocking that she was waiting for came.

"It seems the Raven has come, knocking upon my chamber door." She quipped to herself, smiling at her own wit.

"'Drastia?" Rowle mumbled, voice still slurred from sleep.

A jet of red light sent him back to unconsciousness.

"Nevermore." Adrastia said mockingly, putting down her wand and tying off her silk robe.

The trip through the empty house that had once belonged to her fifth husband was short and she didn't bother checking who was at the door before opening it. That presence could belong to only one wizard.

True to her expectations, Harry was there along with his women. All of them were dressed in basilisk hide as if preparing to go to war. Silly of them really.

"Harry darling." She greeted, throwing her arms around the young wizard and sending a thousand welcoming whispers sliding across his magic. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't show."

"Adrastia." He replied shortly, not returning the embrace and ignoring her magic as a mountain ignored the wind.

"Please come in." She invited, allowing the foursome to enter. "Would any of you like something to drink?"

Three of them refused as she had expected them to, but the youngest surprised her.

"Do you have any fruit juice?" Luna asked.

Apparently it surprised her guests as well.

"We'll get you some fruit juice when we get back home." Nymphadora Tonks promised, shooting Adrastia a distrustful frown.

"Do you think I would be so uncouth as to poison guests in my own home?" She asked in amusement, quirking a challenging eyebrow at the metamorph.

Both she and the veela clearly thought so, but Harry was smarter than that. He knew that she'd only be that overt in dire need.

"It's fine." He said, giving a quelling look at the two suspicious women that made them subside.

Adrastia felt a familiar heat pool between her legs at the subtle show of power. Ah, if only he would let himself be tempted to her bed, she was sure that the ancient dance of flesh and magic would be like nothing she'd ever experienced before. Even if she lost the struggle for dominance, it would be worth it to try at least once.

"Come." She beckoned and led her guests into the kitchen and making for the magical version of a refrigerator in it, basically just a box with cooling and preservation charms on it really. "I hope you like pear juice."

"I've never had any." Luna said. She took a curious sip and her eyes lit up. "This is really good! Harry, we should start having pear juice."

"Sure." Harry agreed without issue.

"Can we just do what we came here to do?" Nymphadora asked tersely. So impatient.

"There is no need to rush." Adrastia said with a smile, knowing it would annoy the metamorph.

"Dora's right though, we really should get this over with." Harry interjected.

Adrastia sighed. "Very well then, follow me."

She led them up to her bedroom and waved her hand at the naked and uncoscious wizard. "He's all yours."

"Had one last shag with him before handing him off to die?" Nymphadora asked caustically as Harry cast a Duplication Charm on the sheets and used them to wrap the burly pureblood in them.

Was that supposed to be an insult? Adrastia felt her lips twitching into a smile again.

"Obviously." She drawled.

"Dora, could you please grab his robes?" Harry asked, neatly preventing the metamorphmagus from escalating the situation.

Adrastia admired the elegant control he had over his women.

"Well, that's that." Harry said, the sheet-wrapped Rowle slung over his shoulders. "We'll be going now."

"Do get in touch if you need help with any of your other targets." Adrastia graciously offered.

"Right." Was his only reply and she doubted he would be doing anything of the sort. A pity.

"Thank you for the juice." Luna said with a bright smile, handing back the now empty glass.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." She said with a smile, finding herself rather liking the young girl's sincerity.

Then they were gone, apparating out with a series of pops.

Adrastia sat back down at the small table and poured herself another glass of wine.

Now what was she to do that her plaything was gone? Rowle may have been boorish clod, but training him had at least been passably amusing. Not much of a challenge, but a distraction nonetheless. Bjomolf had better appreciate the boredom she was suffering at his request.

XXXXX

 _November 8th._

Harry sat waiting at the park table, dressed in his basilisk hide coat. It was well after dark and public parks were not necessarily safe once the Sun went down, but he had little to fear from any hooligans that might show up trolling for trouble and the man he was waiting for had an extreme allergy to sunlight.

It was no more than fifteen mnutes into his wait that Bjomolf showed up, right on time. The ancient vampire was not wearing the expensive suit that he'd last seen him in, but a far more casual outfit of hiking shoes, plain black trousers, nondescript black T-shirt and an open black leather jacket over it.

He was also carrying a plastic bag.

"What's in the bag?" Harry asked tersely without bothering to give a greeting. He was ready to activate his emergency Portkey at a moment's notice.

Bjomolf grinned and pulled a Jenga box out of the bag.

Harry stared. What the fuck?

"I thought we could play while we talk." Bjomolf answered the unasked question, still grinning.

"You want to play...Jenga?" Harry said slowly, still having trouble believing it. Somehow the thought of an eleven-hundred-year-old vampire playing Jenga just didn't compute.

"Yes." Bjomolf said without elaborating and sat down.

"So, what did you want to talk about so badly that you'd send Adrastia to play messenger girl?" Harry asked while the ancient vampire set up the tower of blocks.

"I know that your feelings on vampires must not be too charitable after what Ophelia attempted." Bjomolf said.

"You'd be right about that."

The old Viking nodded, both at the response and in satisfaction at his Jenga tower. He removed one block from the bottom, placed it on top and gestured for Harry to make the next move.

"I warned her not to do that, but I suppose your blood proved too tempting. She always was a bit of a glutton." Bjomolf said.

"So...what? Is this supposed to be some kind of apology?" Harry asked.

"No, of course not." Bjomolf smiled toothily. "We both know that apologies are not worth the breath wasted on them. Think of this as more of an attempt to re-establish relations after Ophelia's blunder."

"I'm not sure I want anything to do with your kind after Ophelia's _blunder_ , as you call it."

"I thought as much, but the future is chaotic and we may well find ourselves in a situation that requires interaction. Would it not be better to have resolved the tensions between us before that happens, if it happens?"

"What are you implying?" Harry asked suspiciously. It _sounded_ reasonable, but he couldn't help feeling that there was some kind of hidden meaning behind all of this.

"I have lived long and seen much, enough to know that letting trouble fester often has deadly consequences."

Wasn't that the reason that Harry was currently purging the Death Eaters?

"And how do you propose we resolve tensions?" He asked a tad sarcastically. "Play Jenga until we're friends?"

"Ah, if only it were so easy." Bjomolf said with a grin. "No, I am aware that we must move slowly if we are ever to be allies in the future. To that end I am offering my aid."

"In what exactly?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Riddle." Bjomolf said, badly startling him. "He's still alive, isn't he?"

"What makes you say that, and how do you even know about him?" Harry asked cautiously.

"We do like to keep track of dangerous wizards – Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle, yourself... As for Riddle's continued existence...well, he dies in mysterious circumstances with no body ever being found, then you begin eliminating his old followers. Not to mention the prophecy between you."

Harry was once again badly startled by how much this vampire knew.

Bjomolf apparently noticed, as he grinned at him again. "I sent one of my people to snoop into your Department of Mysteries in case you were wondering how I knew about that. I don't know what it says, but I'm going to assume that it's a standard 'kill or be killed' type. The ones involving dark lords usually are."

"Let's say that you're right, how do you think you could possibly help me kill him for good?" Harry asked slowly.

"Well I would have to know what kind of help you need first." Bjomolf said, seemingly paying more attention to the Jenga tower than the conversation.

Harry scowled and clammed up. He simply didn't trust Bjomolf enough to give him any more information.

They moved a few more blocks on the Jenga tower in silence before Bjomolf spoke again.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that we are willing to help you with your little problem if you need it."

"I'll keep it in mind." Harry said and activated the Portkey.

XXXXX

Bjomolf contemplated the Jenga tower. It was almost ready to fall.

"Riddle, huh?" He mused. "A violent, sadistic dark lord, ready to rise again? A selfish, easily disliked champion to oppose him? How convenient."

He deliberately removed a critical block from the Jenga tower and watched it topple across the table with a smile.

XXXXX

 _November 13th. Nott estate._

Thaddeus Nott sighed to himself as he walked through the hedge maze of his private garden. His wife had loved this place and he came here to remember her, but it was hard for him to relax even in this place these days.

Everything just seemed to be going the wrong way lately, had been going wrong for some time to be honest.

It was tempting to think that it had started when the Dark Lord fell, but that wasn't true. Treasonous as the thought was, the Dark Lord's downfall had been quite beneficial for him and his peers. They'd been able to avoid prison and use the post-war period of rebuilding to get their society on the right track.

No, things had started going wrong when Potter had killed Lucius. The damned boy was ruining everything. He cared nothing for good breeding or tradition and seemed intent on ripping their society apart down to the bedrock. Fudge, the fool, was of course doing whatever the boy wanted. The Boy-Who-Lived was simply too popular – and more importantly rich – for it to be any other way.

This absurd werewolf legislation was only the most prominent example of Potter's lunacy, and it actually stood a good chance of being passed! If there was ever a sign that proper values were being discarded, that was it.

But that was far from his only worry these days. People were starting to disappear, good people. Not nobles, but still people of good breeding. Every time he thought about it, Thaddeus felt a cold chill creep into his blood. It was eerily reminiscent of how the Dark Lord had begun to make his bid for power – by killing off the mudbloods that had the temerity to attempt rising above their station. The only difference was that this time it was purebloods disappearing.

Deep in his heart, Nott knew who was behind it. Potter was like the Dark Lord had been in the early days, but his polar opposite in goals. That was damned scary, because if the Dark Lord hadn't started becoming so erratic towards the end, he'd likely be in control of Britain now.

A raven croaked above him and he threw a dirty look at the bird. The blasted things seemed to be everywhere these days.

Without warning, Thaddeus felt a spell slam into his back and unconciousness quickly followed.

XXXXX

Thaddeus woke up groggy, his mind still fuzzy from being stunned. The first thing he noticed was that he was bound in a hard, stone chair.

The second thing he noticed was the emerald-eyed wizard staring at him with a knife in hand, his three sluts behind him.

"Hello, Thaddeus." Potter said with a smile that made his stomach drop.

XXXXX

 _November 23rd._

"For a self-proclaimed anti-social bastard, I sure do seem to be playing host to a lot of parties lately." Harry muttered, watching the flurry of activity going on around him. At least Teeny and Kreacher were happy with the extra work.

He wasn't sure what had happened to the original idea of a small family get-together concocted between Fleur and Andromeda that would have consisted of just Fleur and Dora's immediate relatives, but he had been informed that it would be held at Potter Manor rather than in France as originally envisioned.

That change of plans had led to a domino effect of _more_ changes. Since they were having the party at Potter Manor, Narcissa and Sirius were included by default. Narcissa had in turn suggested that he also invite Penny and Septima as senior employees. Penny had then asked if she could bring her boyfriend and parents and Septima had suggested inviting those of her former students that had signed employment contracts for Potter Communications, arguing that it would be good for morale or something like that, what with the business slated to go into operation soon. At that point, Harry had abandoned all hope of it being a small event and invited Bryanna, Tiana, Jade, Isabel and whatever dates they might have as well, figuring that it was only fair. Sirius must have been feeling left out, because he had invited the Weasley twins and Remus at about the same time. Fred and George had also brought their own dates, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell, though which went with which was debatable.

Luna had even asked if they could invite Ginny, which had honestly thrown Harry for a loop. He hadn't so much as thought of the redhead in a long while, but Luna apparently still considered her a friend. Fortunately, that idea was nixed by an exasperated Dora, who pointed out that Ginny was still in Hogwarts and couldn't just leave at will, something that both Luna and Harry had actually forgotten about.

That was already far more people than there were supposed to be and it didn't even include Fleur's side of things!

Speaking of Fleur, she had complained about the weather of course. But then, when did she _not_ complain about the weather in Britain? Still, her complaints were not entirely baseless this time. November this far north was ill-suited for the outside event that she wanted. Unwilling to give up on the idea of an outdoor family picnic, she had drafted him to set up a web of climate control spells and turn the grounds of his estate into a pleasant spring day. As far as temperature was concerned at any rate, even a brief glance outside of the spell perimeter would tell you that it was in fact early winter.

" _At least you will not be having enemies in your nest this time._ " Etal hissed out of his collar, where he was huddled in his miniature form.

" _Unless you count my mate's family as enemies._ " Harry quipped back.

" _Always a danger to be certain._ " The quetzalcoatl replied with a hissing laugh.

"Harry!" Penny called with some urgency, causing his head to snap in her direction.

"What happened?" Harry asked, alarmed at seeing her running in his drection with her boyfriend, Daniel, in tow.

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about Daniel. He was a a few years older than Penny at twenty-five, of average height and fairly unassuming appearance. He seemed nice enough, but Harry couldn't help being wary of him. It wasn't anything that Daniel had done, it was just the fact that he had no aura to read.

"Sirius is traumatising the house-elves by insisting that he's going to man the barbeque grill." Penny explained.

Traumatising was probably an apt word, Harry thought wryly. Not only was Sirius utter crap at anything related to food preparation, but he was also intruding on what Teeny and Kreacher considered their domain.

"I'll go tell him to-" He was interrupted by the distinctive sound of a Portkey arrival and growled in frustration as he saw the small field of silver-blonde hair that had just showed up in his backyard. Fleur had apparently not held back with the invitations either, which probably explained the change in venue.

"I've got to take care of this." He said to Penny, who looked as surprised by the mass of veela as he felt. "Just tell Sirius to stop before he hurts himself or something."

"Don't you think I've tried?" Penny asked crossly. "He won't listen."

" _Etal, can you go with her and smack some sense into Sirius?"_ Harry asked the quetzalcoatl.

" _I suppose._ " Etal said a bit sullenly. He always did like to hang around veela.

Penny hurried off then with Etal in tow, just in time for Fleur to rush into his arms.

"Harry!" She greeted enthusiastically, kissing him with enough showmanship that it simply _had_ to be for the benefit of anyone watching. Once she was done, she grabbed his arm and began leading him towards the newcomers. "Come, let me introduce you to my family."

"Alright." Harry agreed, not that there was anything else to do at this point.

" _You've already met my parents and sister of course_." Fleur began in French once they reached the group, gesturing at the slightly tense trio.

" _Mr. and Mrs. Delacour. Gabrielle_." Harry said with a nod, also in French.

" _Lord Potter_." They said a tad nervously.

" _Just Harry please_." Hadn't they done this already?

" _Very well...Harry_. _You must call us Apolline and Sebastian then._ " Apolline agreed, relaxing minutely. Then she reached into what had to be an expanded pocket and brought ou a bottle of wine " _Our daughter tells us that your family owns a vineyard, so we thought you might appreciate a French wine._ "

" _Thank you._ " Harry said and accepted the bottle, though he actually wanted to laugh. He didn't think that was meant to be as condescending as it came off as. At least it answered the question of where Fleur got her French superiority complex from.

"Teeny," He called, causing the little house-elf to appear. "could you please add this bottle to the ones that are set to be used today?"

"Teeny do it, Master." The hyper little elf said enthusiastically, took the bottle and popped away.

" _This is my grandmother, Aurélie_." Fleur moved on with the introductions once that was done.

Aurélie was a stately older veela in her late sixties, but her beauty hadn't waned a bit. The only sign of aging was the occasional line or wrinkle around her eyes and mouth. Honestly, she looked more like Fleur's mother than grandmother, while Apolline looked like an older sister.

She was also far less reserved than Apolline, though that was to be expected since she hadn't been around to see Lucius Malfoy's spectacular execution. Though according to Fleur that might have turned her on instead...

" _So this is the man that caught my granddaughter's interest._ " She said brightly, moving forward to give him a hug and kiss his cheeks in that particular French way that made introverts uncomfortable just to think about, though Harry didn't think that the hug itself was supposed to be that tight. " _I can certainly see why._ " She added with a purr.

Aaaand there it was, the flirting that Fleur had warned him about. Not that Harry would be opposed to screwing the super hot granny...

After the GILF came Apolline's two sisters, Adeline and Aurore, one younger and one older than Fleur's mother. Each also had daughters of their own, Adeline had one that looked to be about ten or eleven and another that was just over a year younger than Fleur. That one looked at him like he was a juicy steak, so Harry didn't need an introduction to guess that this must be Delphine, Fleur's friend/cousin/fuckbuddy that she liked to tease with tales of how impressive he was and how good she had it. Aurore also had two, both older than Fleur but still single, though the eldest already had a little four-year-old daughter of her own.

Every single one gave him a hug and kissed his cheeks, even the prepubescent ones practically demanded that he stoop low enough for them to do it. They might not be old enough for their more carnal instincts to be active, but they were still drawn to his powerful magic. The three mature but as of yet unattached veela also flirted shamelessly, while Fleur's aunts looked like they were holding back from doing the same.

Harry had serious trouble keeping track of who was who, with only the presence of the three husbands allowed him to keep some level of distinction between them. They all looked like fraternal twins to each other, closer even, all silver-blonde hair and sky-blue eyes. Even their facial structures and body types were similar enough that it was obvious that their genes were essentially identical. That would figure since they were all descended from the succubus Velana and the father didn't contribute any genes, preserving the looks of their foremother.

They also brought more gifts, mostly in the form of various French dishes. If nothing else, they made for a good opportunity to lead the gaggle of veela towards the main picnic area and introduce them to everyone else.

XXXXX

 _Later_.

Harry ignored the mouth-watering smell of cooking meat as he finished off his meal. His recent Skinwalking successes had given him cravings for red, or even raw meat, and he was deliberately refusing to eat any until the urge passed. Ahiga had apparently neglected to mention a few consequences of Skinwalking into a carnivore, the bastard.

Knowing that Skinwalking wasn't like Animagus training, Harry reduced his already low meat intake to zero until this alien set of instincts he'd taken into himself was brought to heel rather than accepting it as part of himself, even if he had to force himself to chew rather than spit like he wanted to. He typically ate meat no more than once a week or so anyway and avoided dairy like the plague – among other things, it made sperm taste like crap according to his research and he was far more attached to enthusiastic blowjobs than he was to cheese. Still, the self-enforced vegan diet combined with a carnivore's cravings made him poor company while eating and drove him to take his food to a bench along the edges of the picnic area, where he could glower at his plate and chew angrily without snapping at anyone that tried to talk to him.

At least it was a good vantage point to observe the goings on.

With so many people not knowing each other, it should have been awkward. Groups should have formed, made up of people that were familiar with each other. At least, that was how Harry understood strangers tended to act when brought into a crowd – they sought out the comfort of the familiar.

Not so for veela apparently. Fleur's mature cousins and grandmother had immediately started prowling for suitable conquests. Harry himself had been especially popular with them earlier, to the point of irritation actually. He had nothing against the amorous attention and would happily invite one or two to share their bed for the night, but the constant conversation had begun to wear on him. Fortunately, Fleur had noticed and led them off.

Since then, they had redirected their attention to the other guests, the single ones at least, though he wouldn't be surprised to hear that they'd propositioned the couples as well.

The ones that had no experience with veela were ridiculously easy to pick out of the crowd. That look of awkward incredulity at their forwardness or the glazed looks of those overcome by the Allure were a dead give-away.

Still, despite having to run interference to keep things from getting out of hand, aided by Narcissa, Andromeda, Dora and Fleur, Harry had to admit that this picnic thing was going pretty well. The veela had well and truly smashed the ice and everyone was having a good time. A few people were probably going to have a _very_ good time afterwards as well, which would no doubt improve morale among his employees even if getting them laid by a gaggle of horny veela wasn't the reason they'd been invited. Though he'd have to keep an eye on things to make sure that none of them got stolen from him and led to France by their cocks...

And there had been no major disasters so far, in spite of Sirius' valiant attempts to man the barbeque grill and cause one. Sirius had sulked over that, but was now happily distracted by Fleur's oldest cousin.

Dora was currently looking a little uncomfortable with Fleur perched in her lap. Understandable since their respective parents were also there and Ted looked like he was still having trouble reconciling the new reality he found himself in.

Luna was telling tales to the three prepubescent veela present. What she was actually telling them was anyone's guess, it could be about crumple-horned snorkacks or last night's bedroom escapades. Neither would be at all strange given the audience and speaker.

Etal was also a big hit, being cooed over by any veela he approached, much to his obvious pleasure. The self-important flying noodle.

Remus Lupin, the joyless void of self-pity that he was, seemed to be the only person not enjoying himself. In fact, the werewolf had spent most of his time so far attempting to dodge the attempt of Fleur's second oldest cousin to seduce him until she'd given up on him.

Harry couldn't fathom why he'd do that, especially after the trouble Sirius had gone through to point her at him. Veela couldn't contract lycanthropy and it was fairly close to the New Moon anyway, so that couldn't be it. Maybe he was just a virgin or intimidated by beautiful women? Or maybe his self-esteem issues were making him think that he didn't deserve a good time. Whatever.

His people watching was interrupted as he saw one of the guests approaching him. It was Fleur's grandmother, Aurélie.

"Not much of a social person, are you, Harry?" The senior veela asked in perfect English.

"Not really, no." Harry admitted.

Aurélie sat next to him without waiting for an invitation and stretched in that uniquely sexy way that only beautiful women could properly manage. Ye gods, but it was easy to forget that this woman was sixty-seven.

"I think Fleur might have taken that as a challenge." She chuckled. "She was always the fiercest of my descendants."

"Remind you of yourself?" Harry quipped with a small grin.

Aurélie seemed delighted by the question. "She told you about me then?"

"Oh yes, you're something of a personal hero of hers apparently."

Unlike her daughters, Aurélie had never married. Instead, she'd been a sort of adventurer, visiting exciting new places, getting into trouble, sleeping her way through the local wizard population, inevitably getting pregnant, returning home to give birth and then repeating the whole exercise.

She'd not been much of a mother apparently, leaving her offspring in the care of France's veela commune while she was off on her escapades and only properly settling down when her youngest was already six.

Fleur had always theorised that she'd felt bad about that and had spent more time with her grandchildren as a way to make up for not really being there for her daughters. She now lived in the very commune that had taken care of her children and helped with the new young ones.

The way she sighed a bit sadly at his words seemed to lend credence to that theory. "Apolline never did appreciate me 'teaching her daughter my bad habits', but I suppose she has a right to feel resentful. I didn't do right by my daughters, not really."

"They seem to have turned out fine." Harry said non-committally.

"They did." Aurélie agreed.

They stayed quiet for a while, just watching the proceedings. Fleur eventually looked in their direction, smiled, pointed them out to Dora and said something that had the metamorphmagus looking more than a bit shocked.

"Looks like Fleur just had a great idea." Aurélie purred.

Apparently he wasn't the only one that thought Fleur had just suggested an orgy with her grandmother.

"That _is_ her idea face." Harry agreed.

"So what do you say, Harry? Do you have what it takes?" Aurélie challenged, dropping a hand on his thigh.

"The better question is if _you_ have what it takes, old woman." Harry smirked.

"Ho...back in my day, those were fighting words."

"They still are."

XXXXX

"So, that was...interesting." Ted said as he and his wife prepared for bed.

"That's one way of putting it." Andromeda chuckled. "I liked the Delacours, but the younger veela were a lot more forward than I expected. They must have taken their cousin's open relationship as a sign that they could let their hair down."

"I still can't believe we got invited to an orgy."

" _I_ still can't believe you were about to say yes." Andromeda said sternly.

"I'm sorry!" Ted said urgently, in dire fear of his wife's wrath. "It must have been that Allure thing you warned me about."

"I know, I was just teasing you." She assured, giving him a quick kiss.

Ted breathed a sigh of relief. Banishment to the couch averted.

"But I'll expect more self-control out of you next month." Andromeda warned jokingly.

Right, the women had decided that they were going to have Christmas dinner together, once again at Potter Manor since it was the only residence with sufficient room. Ted had quite clearly seen that Harry wasn't altogether pleased about having his home appropriated like that, but had consented to keep the women happy.

Aside from the 'you pulled my daughter into a harem' thing, Ted actually rather liked Harry. He was not above enjoying a bit of schadenfreude at his expense though.

"Yes, dear." He said back with a grin.

"Good, now get over here and make me feel like a teenager again. All the sex in the air has had me feeling randy for hours already."

Well, Ted supposed that there _were_ upsides to his daughter's life choices.

XXXXX

 _November 24th._

Aurélie woke up with the first light of dawn as always, taking a deep breath and simply reveling in the satisfaction she felt. Last night had been more fun than she'd had in decades.

"Good morning." Fleur said softly, having of course woken up at the same time.

"Morning." She replied just as softly, looking over at their other bedmates with a frown. "Where did Harry go?"

Aurélie had been looking forward to giving the powerful young wizard a good morning as well and was a bit miffed by his absence.

"He must have gone running." Fleur said with a small frown of her own, no doubt having had the same idea.

A wizard that woke up early to exercise? Will wonders never cease.

"What about Nymphadora?" Aurélie asked, looking at the metamorphmagus wetting her lips. She may not be as powerful as Harry, but she was still utterly delicious.

But Fleur just shook her head with a wry smile. "She will kick us in the head if we wake her up this early."

"Shower then?"

"Shower."

The two of them carefully extracted themselves from the bed, making sure that they didn't wake the other two women sharing it with them.

A couple of minutes later they were soaping each other up in the large shower and Aurélie decided to bring up something that had been on her mind for some time now.

"You have done well for yourself, Fleur." She began. "Three lovers, all of them a lot more powerful than average...any veela would envy you."

"It is more than just that." Fleur replied softly. "They are all wonderful people and I love them."

"But he is not yours." Aurélie stated knowingly.

"No," Fleur admitted with a challenging lift of her chin."but I am his."

Aurélie smiled at her favorite(not that she would admit it) granddaughter's fierceness. It was not a very veela sentiment that Fleur had just expressed, but she had experienced what Harry was like for herself. That was not a wizard that would be bent to another's will.

Apolline would not be happy if she were to hear this, but then her middle daughter had always been less of a risk-taker.

And it wasn't like Fleur was some weak-willed ninny, unable to ensnare a wizard with her charms. Indeed, she had actually become a most impressive example of a veela over the past couple of years. Her magic was powerful, her Allure strong and controlled far beyond anything she'd ever seen.

Aurélie had been both baffled and intrigued when she'd noticed how her granddaughter was becoming more changed with every visit, but after last night she understood. Fleur was not merely having her basic needs met, she was able to gorge herself as much as she pleased.

Their kind generally had to be content with what they could get while pretending to be human, plus whatever tidbits they could keep hidden. Things had been slowly improving for them over the last few decades, but they would likely never be able to get away with cultivating large harems the way they would have wanted to. Even if they had, those harems were generally filled with weaker wizards rather than specimens as impressive as Harry, Nymphadora and Luna.

"And are you happy with that?" Aurélie asked.

"Yes." Fleur said firmly. "Harry may not be perfect and it may go against my instincts to not be focus of attention, but he is worth it, all three of them are worth it."

Aurélie smiled a bit wistfully at the utter certainty in her granddaughter's words. Fleur was in love, she had to be in order to accept a subordinate position in her relationship. That was a luxury even for humans.

Not long after that, the shower doors opened and Harry stepped in.

"Ladies." He greeted, his skin shining with sweat and looking magnificent.

"Harry." Both veela greeted in unison and exchanged a look. A silent agreement was reached and they started washing him.

Aurélie shamelessly exploited the opportunity to fondle. A minute after thoroughly washing them, she found herself pinned to the magically cushioned wall of the shower while he pounded into her.

Just like last night, he didn't give her room to do anything except take his relentless assault, but Aurélie found it hard to complain when it was this good. His magic seemed to shine even brighter today.

When he discharged into her, all she could do was gasp as her own climax was triggered by the influx of powerful magic.

But he did not Join with her like she knew he could, keeping his soul private and walled off from the grasp of her Allure. Aurélie was glad of it. Quite a relief really, to not have that bit of unnecessary intimacy getting in the way of the sex.

XXXXX

Luna and Dora were still fast asleep by the time the three of them got out of the shower, so they decided to head downstairs and get some breakfast.

Of course, there were three other mature veela that had also stayed over...

" _Harry, you invited our grandmother to your bed, won't you invite us too?_ " The oldest, the one that already had a daughter, purred in French, invading his personal space quite deeply. The other two backed up their cousin firmly, also invading his personal space.

Harry considered that logic to be highly suspect, especially in light of the fact that the trio of veela had hijacked the breakfast that Teeny had prepared for him.

" _Yes, Harry, it truly would be discourteous if you didn't show my granddaughters the same hospitality you afforded me._ " Aurélie said, not even bothering to hide her amusement.

" _Weren't my godfather and two of my employees enough for you?_ " He asked, pouring himself a glass of juice. He was quite sure that said godfather and employees were currently sleeping off the side-effects of a veela's libido.

" _They were alright, but Fleur has told us such outrageous stories about you. We want to see for ourselves._ " Delphine purred, doing something that could easily be classified as dry humping his leg. All three were also blasting their Allure at him at max power, not that it did anything...except maybe turn them on even further when they saw that he was unaffected.

Harry turned to Fleur with an amused smile on his face. " _What do you think, Fleur? Should I take the time to entertain your cousins? Are they even worth it?_ "

While the three veela gasped in exaggerated outrage and turned to their cousin, practically demanding that they be allowed to show their skill in the bedroom. Veela were so predictable sometimes, just imply that their sexual prowess was lacking and they'd become determined to prove you wrong. Well, if they liked you enough that was.

Fleur listened to the demands with a distinct air smug satisfaction. Having her cousins drooling all over him was about the equivalent of having a Ferrari and watching envious family members begging to take it for a ride.

Of course, Fleur's cousins didn't know what kind of dynamic their relationship had and Harry was content to let them think that she was in charge for now. He could practically see Fleur's ego swelling, which would probably be amusing later.

" _Well I suppose I could let you have some fun with my man._ " Fleur said, as if making some great sacrifice. It would have been more effective if she could stop looking so smug though.

XXXXX

 _Later._

Harry dumped himself into an armchair with a relieved sigh. Even his prodigious, rune-enhanced stamina had limits and attempting to satisfy three veela at once had just about exhausted it, especially with the brief shower adventure that had preceded it.

"Those veela are really something, huh?" Sirius grinned at him from his own chair.

"That they are." Harry nodded, privately thinking that Fleur was the best.

"I wonder if Lucile would agree to another romp." Sirius mused.

Harry's brow briefly furrowed as he tried to remember which one was Lucile. Judging by context it was the oldest of Fleur's counsin's, the one that was already a MILF. She'd been the one to sleep with Sirius at any rate.

"I'd stay away from her if I were you, unless you have some desire to get married and become a stepfather to a four-year-old veela that I don't know about." Harry warned with a smirk.

"To get shagged like that every day it'd be almost worth it." Sirius joked.

"I'd just end up having to fuck another woman because you couldn't keep up with her." Harry mocked.

"This is my punishment for pranking you in fourth year, isn't it, Lily?" Sirius asked of the ceiling. "There's no way that your son could grow up to be such a snarky little bastard without otherworldly influence."

"Keep telling yourself that, Sirius. Keep telling yourself that."

XXXXX

 _December 2nd._

Harry breathed deeply, his entire focus turned inward. This had to be done right.

He sought out the spirit fo the wolf that was now part of him. It had been a painstaking process to get this far, with every step a struggle, but he finally felt confident that he could control it.

The wolf came to the surface and began to change him, bones and flesh reforming and while fur grew. It was an unpleasant sensation, so much more unpleasant and unnatural than an Animagus transformation.

The more he changed, the stronger the wolf became, but it no longer tried to overtake him. It took a long minute for his transformation to reach the halfway point that Ahiga had used to confront him and Sirius, but Harry kept pushing further. Another minute passed before Harry dropped to all fours and panted with his tongue hanging out from his lupine muzzle.

The wolf form was large, much larger than it had been when he had skinned it, but that was a matter of body mass proportion. Unlike the Animagus transformation, he was not inverting the state between man and animal, but forcing the animal form over the man.

Also unlike his raven form, the instincts of the wolf were much more distinct. The mental aspect of the transformation had been considerably more challenging than the physical.

"Harry, you're so cute!" Luna squealed and rushed to hug him around the neck.

Harry was amused by his mate's antics and feeling playful in response, so he gave the side of her face a massive lick.

Instead of being digusted, Luna merely giggled at the slobber covering her cheek.

"I guess we can keep him, as long as he doesn't shed hair all over the house." Dora quipped.

"Or chew on my shoes." Fleur added.

Harry was still feeling playful and loped clumsily over to the two women. Another difference from the Animagus transformation –the wolf's instincts being distinct from his own meant that he was as uncoordinated as a newborn pup.

Dora seemed to guess what he was intending and stepped back.

"Don't you dare." She warned.

But Harry did dare, rising up on his hind legs and toppling her over. Then, once she was pinned under him, started licking her face, much to her shouts of protest and disgust.

XXXXX

 _December 16th._

"What can I do for you, Auror Tonks?" Bonesy asked.

"I would like tender my resignation from the Auror Corps, Ma'am." Dora said formally, speaking past the lump in her throat.

She didn't really want to quit, but she couldn't stand being an auror anymore with what she was helping Harry do.

Bonesy looked momentarily surprised before her features smoothed out again.

"I'd hate to lose someone with as much promise as you, Tonks." She said carefully. "May I ask what brought this on?"

How was she supposed to answer that? _Im sorry, but I can't be an auror anymore while moonlighting as an accessory to murder, kidnapping and a bunch of other crimes._

She had insisted on being present every time that Harry interrogated one of the people he kidnapped. Only once had they snatched someone that didn't deserve to die. That man had been an unpleasant bigot, but lacked the nerve to actually act on those beliefs. Him they had obliviated and returned home, everyone else they'd caught though...

Dora had never realised how bad this pureblood supremacy movement was. Even those that hadn't been death eaters were often guilty of killing or tormenting muggles for fun. They didn't even see those without magic as _people_ , but more like animals. Worse even, because at least they didn't hate animals.

Though it had made her uncomfortable, she had agreed with Harry on the need to remove these people before Voldemort could come back and make use of them, but having the true depths of their evil revealed to her, sometimes under Veritaserum and sometimes in enraged ranting...well, it could change a person. It had certainly changed her. These pureblood supremacists...there was no point in pretending that they didn't need to be put down. Most of them were so brainwashed and deluded that they actually thought of themselves as heroes for 'purging the muggle filth'.

"A conflict between my personal and professional life , Ma'am." She finally said.

"I see." Bonesy said simply, giving her a scrutinising look.

Dora resisted the urge to sweat. Knowing that Bonesy knew – or at least heavily suspected – that Harry was behind the recent string of disappearances, was deeply disconcerting. Still, the fact that she wasn't really acting on those suspicions was at least a little bit reassuring.

"This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with Yaxley, would it?" Bonesy spoke again after a long few seconds.

Ah, Yaxley, another death eater remnant. That one had been especially personal because he had been a senior administrator in the DMLE. It would certainly explain why the Aurors always seemed to be a step behind the Death Eaters during the war.

Needles to say, Bonesy had been beyond livid when they had investigated his home for clues about his disappearance and found a set of Death Eater robes in his closet. Hell, the entire DMLE had been livid.

Yaxley hadn't actually been dumb enough to keep the robes there, but several others had been and it had been simple enough to plant them.

Bonesy's question might sound innocent enough, simply inquiring if she was quitting out of shame at having worked alongside a death eater, but the sharp tone of warning in her voice said otherwise. She was being asked if she was no longer able to keep Harry pointed at the right people.

"No, Ma'am, I will always uphold the principles of law and order, but Harry is intending to travel to Egypt in a couple of months and I'm going with him."

That was perhaps more blatant than she would have liked, but she'd never been good at subtle wordplay. All this dancing around the subject was Narcissa's thing.

Bonesy stared at her hard for nearly a full minute, until the only thing keeping Dora from sweating like a pig was the iron control she was exerting over her body.

"Very well,Tonks." The DMLE director finally nodded sharply. "Send me and Scrimgeour a letter of resignation and I'll have you released from duty."

Dora nodded in relief and nearly ran from the office. As if to say goodbye one last time, the carpet tripped her up and made her take a nasty spill on the floor outside the office.

"I'm alright, I meant to do that." She assured the Bonesy's amused secretary, face burning in embarrassment. She'd thought that her days as a klutz were behind her now that her Metamorph ability was more tightly controlled, but that meeting had been so tense that her relief at having it end had caused enough of a shift to mess up her balance.

XXXXX

 _December 25th._

Draco Malfoy had not been having a good time since angrily sending his mother away. In retrospect, sending away the one person that could have advised him as he acclimated to life as an adult and head of the family had not been a good idea, but his pride would not let him admit that.

So he had muddled through it on his own. His father had never really gotten the chance to teach him how to manage the family's finances or various business interests, so those had suffered under his inexperienced hand.

But things were finally starting to look up for him now. He may have lost a considerable chunk of money and business to his rivals, but now he had finally been invited to a meeting of his peers. None of this mudblood Christmas nonsense that had infected their world lately either, but a proper Yule celebration.

That celebration was over now and he was ensconced in the parlor of Lord Avery's manor, along with lords Flint, Rookwood, Bulstrode, Yaxley and Mulciber.

"Alright, Avery, we're all here, now what did you want to talk about?" Bulstrode near-demanded.

Draco thought that was rude, but Lord Avery seemed used to it.

"I think you know what I want to talk about." Avery sighed. "People have been disappearing, _our_ people. Macnair and the Carrow twins could be written off as coincidence – those three were always weird – but what about Thaddeus Nott, Edward parkinson and Alexius Carrrow? Three Lords of noble Houses – an ancient one in the case of Nott – just vanishing into thin air? And what about all the others like Thorfinn Rowle, Gibbon and Jugson? All of them had one thing in common, they were all respectable purebloods."

Draco knew about these disappearances. His old friends, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, had lost their fathers that way, as had Pansy. Theodore Nott, another housemate from Slytherin, was now an orphan. Those were the ones he knew, but there were others.

"He's right." Lord Yaxley said grimly. "My nephew, Corban, he vanished too. And Bones isn't doing a damn thing about it even though he was a senior administrator in the DMLE."

"Of course she isn't."Lord Rookwood scoffed. "The Aurors found a set of Death Eater robes and a mask in his home when they went looking for him. Bones probably raised a drink to whoever did it."

"Those were planted there!" Lord Yaxley said angrily.

Draco thought so too, though he wouldn't be surprised if Corban Yaxley had indeed been a death eater. In fact, he was fairly certain that everyone here except him was one. That was why he had been so pleased to be invited to dine with these great men, who had at one point been on the front lines of the fight to reclaim their world from the mudbloods alongside his father.

"It was Potter, wasn't it?" he finally spoke up. Even Speaking that bastard's name still brought the anger back, even after all this time.

"Had to be." Lord Mulciber said. "Nott opposes his insane werewolf legislation and vanishes two days before it was to be discussed again? That couldn't have been a coincidence."

"It's not the only thing either." Lord Bulstrode said with a scowl. "Potter has Fudge wrapped completely around his finger and has been using the panic about all these disappearances to get him passing even _more_ insane policies. A few more years of this and purebloods will be reduced to begging in the streets, if there's even any of us still alive by then."

"So what are we going to do about it?" Draco asked eagerly, already dreaming of revenge against his hated enemy.

"Unfortunately, there isn't much we _can_ do about it." Lord Flint said darkly. "Potter has Bones, Fudge, the _Prophet_ and the public on his side. Lucius must have seen this coming and tried to get rid of him before he became a problem, but we all know how that turned out. And now he even has Narcissa helping him along."

Draco's clenched his jaw at the mention of his father and mother. Remembering how his father was murdered still lit a fire in him. Thinking of his mother also made him mad, but not at her. No, he still loved his mother and had realised that Potter must have done something to her. He would free her from that evil bastard's influence one day.

"There is _one_ thing we could do." Lord Avery said cautiously.

Draco was eager to hear it, but everyone else seemed to already know.

"You can't be serious." Lord Bulstrode said flatly.

"What choice do we have?" Avery argued. "Do we wait for Potter to kill us all one by one instead?"

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked.

The other five exchanged grim looks, sighed and nodded.

"We're talking about leaving the country-"

"And let Potter win?!" Draco demanded furiously, surging to his feet. He was completely incensed by the cowardice.

"Sit down, boy." Avery snapped and glared at Draco until he did so, then he continued. "We were used to Dumbledore's dawdling and let Potter get too strong. 'He's just a boy, what can he do?' we thought. Well now we've got a halfblood with too much power and a head full of crazy ideas tearing our world down one stone at a time. We tried fighting Potter indirectly and failed – he has too much support now. Trying to kill him would be almost like trying to kill Dumbledore – far too dangerous. What we need is someone that can match him...we need the Dark Lord."

Draco waited for him to elaborate, but his impatience got the better of him. "But the Dark Lord is dead."

"As it turns out, he might not be." Rookwood said. "The Dark Lord would often say that he had traveled further down the path of immortality than anyone else ever had. We hadn't really figured out what that meant until we started hearing rumors and whispers of strange things happening in Albania recently. Stories about a dark spirit haunting the forests. We think it might be our lord down there, seeking a way to return to physical form. Even the Dark Mark has started getting darker again."

Now Draco was almost bouncing in excitement. If the Dark Lord could be revived, then everything would be put to rights!

"So we're going to search for him?" He asked, barely keeping his glee contained.

"Yes, but we have to be smart about it." Mulciber cautioned. "With Nott in Potter's hands, he might know this too and if he catches wind of us trying to bring the Dark Lord back, he'll probably stop bothering with subtlety and come after us like an angry dragon. We have to make him think that we're just running."

"We could set a trap for him." Draco suggested, his jaw clenching at the thought of _hiding_ from Potter.

"I told you, it's too dangerous." Avery growled. "We have no idea what kind of magic he has at his command so any trap we set could just as easily backfire on us."

"What do you suggest then?" Draco asked bitterly.

"The five of us and a few others we plan to recruit, we have connections on the continent, we can get in touch with people that would be sympathetic to our cause and give us shelter, but Potter will no doubt have his eye on us even if he can't get at us anymore. We'll have to stay far away from Albania, hidden under powerful wards. But you, Draco, you're young and look like less of a threat because you've never really done anything to him outside of a few schoolyard scuffles."

"And let's not forget Narcissa." Flint broke in. "We all know how much she loved you, still loves you. Her being Potter's mistress will actually protect you."

Draco ground his teeth together at the unwanted reminder of how his mother was being defiled. "What do I have to do then?"

Yaxley answered his question, paying no heed to his terse tone. "First, you'll need to keep going as you were for a while so that it doesn't look like we left together. You'll receive a letter from an old business associate of your father's a month or so after we've left. Invite him to dinner and accept his offer of a business opportunity in Italy. Stay there for a few months, make it look like you're planning to transplant the Malfoy family like your ancestor did centuries ago when he moved from France to Britain. Keep your head down, buy a house, make friends, get a wife even – Italy is one of the few places left in the world where you can still find a pureblood witch of good breeding and it would help your cover. Whatever you do, don't give Potter any reason at all to turn his attention to you. If your mother sends you any more letters and you decide to reply, assume that Potter will read them too, so don't suddenly change your behavior. Once you've got a routine established, go to Albania and make contact with the local wizards. There's no Ministry there, but there are are a few places where you can find magicals. Find our lord and help him return."

"I'll do it." Draco agreed with barely any time spared for thinking. His mind was filled with scenes of glorious revenge.

"Good. While you're doing that, we'll be gathering support wherever we can find it and keeping Potter's eyes off you."

That sounded perfect to Draco and he agreed instantly, determined to succeed.

XXXXX

"You think he'll succeed?" Mulciber asked.

"Maybe." Avery shrugged. "He won't have to suffer the Dark Lord's displeasure for leaving him hanging these past fifteen years at least."

"Yes, but _we_ will." Bulstrode scowled.

"We'll have sent Draco to him and we'll provide him with new recruits." Flint argued. "Surely he'll forgive us?"

"Yes, because our lord was known for his forgiveness." Yaxley said sarcastically and then sighed. "But it's not like we have much choice. If we don't do anything Potter is going to run Britain into the ground with his muggle-loving policies and I don't think he'll give up on killing us even if we leave the country."

The others slumped at that undeniable truth.

"I suppose we'd better start moving our gold and contacting the others then." Mulciber sighed.

XXXXX

 _December 25th. Potter Manor._

"Harry, could I have a word, in private?"

Harry looked at Aurélie in confusion and wondered why there was a sudden dread in his heart. This wasn't another sexual proposition, he was sure of it. The senior veela was dead serious, not flirty. That couldn't be good.

The Christmas get-together had been a bit too social for his liking but not terribly painful. As far as pseudo in-laws went, the ones that came along with Dora and Fleur were easy enough to get along with. What then, could be the cause of this unreasonable dread?

"Alright, follow me to my study." He said.

"You may want to include your ladies as well." Aurélie suggested.

Now Harry was even more baffled and worried, but he agreed to do so.

A few minutes later, his trio of girlfriend joined them in the study, looking at Aurélie expectantly, who took a deep breath and dropped the bomb.

"I am pregnant."

There was a dumbstruck silence that felt like the longest five seconds of Harry's life.

"And I'm...?" Was all he managed to croak out. He'd already broken into cold sweat.

"Well I admit that I did sleep with a couple of other wizards lately, but you are the only one likely to have gotten me pregnant." Aurélie confirmed with an amused smile. "You are fortunate that the other three of my granddaughters you slept with were on the potion, or they might have been here with me right now, delivering similar news."

Another silence ensued, shorter this time.

Fleur broke it by shrieking happily and jabbering congratulation at her grandmother in French. Harry was still far too stunned to really register what was being said.

"You've really gone and done it now, Harry." Dora said wryly, then shook her head and sighed. "I guess it was bound to happen eventually."

Harry couldn't respond with anything other than a blank stare as his mind helpfully replayed every bit of information he had on veela reproduction. Sperm count and strength were irrelevant, only the magic mattered. Contraception spells were useless, only a veela-specific potion could prevent them from getting pregnant. Veela became fertile somewhere in their mid to late teens and reached peak fertility in their early twenties, after which it started dropping off, but never completely vanished because they did not ovulate or menstruate, nor did they go through menopause. That was the theory anyway since veela fertility wasn't something that worked on measurable scientific principles, but observations supported it. He had speculated on how much of a factor the magical power of the father played in the chances of conception, but had no hard data from which to draw any conclusions.

Harry hadn't for a moment considered that a sixty-seven-year-old veela would still be able to get pregnant. They had enough trouble conceiving when they were young. Even if that was with wizards far weaker than him, surely his power couldn't compensate for _that_ much? Apparently it could.

"What will this make me?" Luna wondered.

"What do you mean?" Dora asked, puzzled.

"In relation to the baby, what will it make me?" Luna elaborated. "Am I going to be an aunt? Cousin? Mother-in-law? Aunt-in-law? Niece-in-law?"

"Erm...I don't think you'll be related to it at all?"

"Oh." Luna sounded disappointed, Harry dimly registered.

The two veela ceased their rapid and enthusiastic French conversation and turned back to the others

"Harry," She began gently. "you don't have to worry about acting as a father or providing financial support. I may be getting a bit old to be a mother, but I could easily live for another forty, fifty or even sixty years and I have enough gold to be comfortable. In truth, I would like to thank you for this gift, unintentional and unexpected though it was. I hadn't thought to be blessed with a fourth daughter."

Harry could only nod, unable to articulate properly just yet. Aurélie's assurances that he didn't have to be a father to the baby made him feel as if he'd just dodged an avalanche. Financial support he would have been fine with and would provide gladly if she ever asked, but being a father? No way. He had stuff he wanted to do and stuff he _had_ to do, stuff that children did not go with. They made him spectacularly uncomfortable as it was.

"Can we visit Harry's daughter once she's born?" Luna asked hopefully.

"We _will_ visit." Fleur said firmly before Aurélie could answer. "I want to be part of my new aunt's life."

Harry did not want anything of the sort. He was still in full 'dodge any and all responsibility' mode. Unfortunately, there was simply no good way to tell your girlfriend that you didn't want to visit the baby you put in her grandmother. Had anyone in the history of _ever_ needed to say such a thing?

"Of course you can visit." Aurélie assured. "I would be very happy if you did in fact, but there _is_ something you need to be aware of."

"What?" Harry managed to ask, though it came out far more nervous than he would have liked.

"As you might imagine, a veela getting pregnant at my age is not a common event. Unheard of actually. There was quite an uproar when the healers found out. I have them sworn to silence for the moment, but the news _will_ get out once I start showing _._ We spoke to several people about our visit here last month and it will not take long to connect the dots. Your reputation as a powerful wizard will also work against you here, as you are the most obvious candidate to have fathered my baby and I doubt Fleur's counsin's will stay quiet about it in any case."

"What are you saying?" Harry asked, his previous dread coming back.

"There are other older veela out there that would love to have more daughters but are unable to conceive anymore with average wizards, as well as younger ones who either have trouble conceiving at all or will simply be drawn to a wizard powerful enough to impregnate a veela my age." She explained bluntly. "I am sorry, Harry, but in a year from now at most, every veela in the world will know that you are prime breeding material. They will descend on you in droves. They will attempt to seduce, bribe or persuade you to sleep with them for whatever reason. They may even seek to supplant Fleur, join your little harem in their own right or perhaps simply have a one night stand with you for the thrill."

Harry sank into the nearest chair, wondering at how fucked a person could be. The unintentional pun almost made him snort. He took a deep breath and shoved the confusing tangle of emotions to the back of his mind.

"Well, fuck." He said succintly.

"Surely they would not be so blatant?" Fleur asked in surprise and some alarm. "There have been powerful wizards before and they did not have veela hounding them like you described."

"Times have changed. Veela are more accepted now than we have ever been and it is no longer as dangerous to pursue someone as it was even a few decades ago. Moreover, the fact that you are one of his lovers and that he has already gotten me pregnant will be enough to assure most of them that there is no danger in approaching him."

"And the werewolf legislation he pushed through the British Wizengamot recently will have also reinforced his image of non-discrimination." Fleur groaned. "You are right, they will be all over him."

"And what are we supposed to do about this mess?" Dora asked, sounding severely exasperated. Harry couldn't blame her. At this point even _he_ was wondering if he was worth the bother.

"I do not know what to tell you." Aurélie shrugged apologetically. "You could send a message of blanket refusal to the communes, but I doubt it will have much effect. You could also set aside a certain amount of time every week to entertain them. It would impose some order on the situation, but I can understand why you might not be comfortable with that."

Yes, that would be quite uncomfortable. Having a constant stream of beautiful women wanting to hop into bed with him was one thing, but this sounded like it would get tiresome real fast. Shit, it was already tiresome and it hadn't even happened yet. And that wasn't even mentioning his unwillingness to be a sperm donor for every veela looking to get pregnant.

He could think of _one_ course of action that would prevent this thing from blowing up, but he wasn't going to mention it. Judging by Aurélie's words so far, she would never agree to have an abortion and it would only serve to piss Fleur off if he suggested it.

"You said a year before it gets out?" He asked instead.

"A year at most." Aurélie corrected. "I will start showing in a month or two. The news will start spreading then and it is anyone's guess how long it takes before all of us know it. It will likely be closer to six months than a year."

"Right. Well, I suppose if worst comes to worst we can just move to Black Island permanently." Harry sighed.

Putting the manor under Fidelius was another option, but not really a feasible one. Not only would the spell be iffy to cast given the number of people that had already been over, but the Fidelius also had two serious weaknesses. The first was that the Secret Keeper could not stay within the secret for more than a couple of hours at a time without breaking the spell and the second was that the Secret Giver had to _trust_ the Secret Keeper before he could pass on the secret. Seeing as the only people he trusted enough to hand such a secret to were Luna, Fleur and Dora, the Fidelius was not viable.

"I am sorry for the inconvenience this will cause you." Aurélie apologised, though it didn't come off entirely sincere thanks to the smile on her face.

"It's fine." Harry sighed. "Dora was right earlier – it was bound to happen eventually. Having hordes of beautiful women after my sauce is admittedly an unusual consequence, but it's hardly the first time something blew up in my face. Sirius is never going to let me hear the end of it though."

XXXXX

 _January 2nd. Hogwarts, Headmaster's office._

"Good afternoon, Alastor." Albus greeted his visitor. "What do you have for me?"

"Nothing." The man most commonly known as Mad-Eye Moody grunted.

"Nothing?" Albus blinked.

"Nothing." Alastor confirmed as he dumped himself into a chair.

"Could you perhaps elaborate?" Albus prompted.

"Not much to elaborate on." The scarred and maimed wizard growled. "You asked me to look into all these disappearing death eaters-"

"We don't know that they are death eaters." Albus interjected.

Alastor gave him a look that conveyed his disagreement – and possibly profanity – before continuing as if he had not been interrupted. "I looked into it and I didn't find a damn thing. I talked to Amelia and her boys didn't find anything either; no spell traces, no physical evidence, no witnesses, no reports of anyone acting suspiciously beforehand, nothing at all to go on. The best they got was some spell residue that was too decayed to be useful. Whoever's doing this is good, damn good, and they must have some way of collecting information without drawing suspicion too, they'd have to if they wanted to snatch some of the people they did."

"Thank you, Alastor." Albus said, nodding thoughtfully.

Moody nodded at the dismissal and left, leaving the ancient headmaster alone with his thoughts.

He was deeply troubled by recent events. They reminded him sharply of what had been happening prior to the outbreak of the war against Voldemort. Tom had also been adept at making people disappear without a trace.

But it could not be Tom this time. His old student may not be entirely sane anymore, but he would not have returned from death only to start destroying his own power base.

Albus did not like the thought that Harry Potter was the most likely person to be behind this. He was only sixteen, still a boy that should be enjoying his youth. There was no proof that it was him, but there was no denying that Harry had profited greatly from the disappearances. Not so much in gold as in political clout, especially as most of his political opposition among the most traditionalist families had recently packed up and left the country. Then there was the fact that young Nymphadora had recently left the Auror Corps, Alastor had been quite put out about that, but Albus wondered if Harry had something to do with it.

And he couldn't forget that Harry also knew the prophecy...was it possible that he was trying to undermine it? Albus couldn't tell. There was simply no _proof_.

He wanted to believe that Harry had nothing to do with it. The lad had – in spite of his stated indifference – used his power and influence to do good so far. The improved werewolf legislation would do much to keep all but the worst of the werewolves away from Voldemort.

He had done other things too, smaller things. Albus may not approve of how Harry was manipulating Fudge, but he couldn't say that any of it was harmful the way that Lucius Malfoy's manipulations had been. Anyone with eyes to see could tell that Fudge's recent, uncharacteristic competence was due to Harry's whispered suggestions and sometimes overt support. The current minister was enjoying a very high popularity these days thanks to that association, which only made him ever more dependent on Harry.

It didn't add up. Albus didn't think that Harry had lied when he'd said that he didn't care for politics, everything else that he knew about the lad supported that assertion, so this maneuvering was out of character for him. Why was he doing it?

And where was Voldemort? Albus had been sure that he would have acted by now, his reappearance during Harry's first year seemed to portend that the prophecy was moving towards resolution now that the Dark Lord's fated enemy had returned to the magical world, but then things had quieted down again. Was Voldemort even capable of acting? He didn't really know how much freedom of action a disembodied spirit held in this world by Horcruxes had.

So many unanswered questions...Albus was used to being the one with the answers, not the questions. Ever since Harry had left Hogwarts it seemed like events were bypassing him and he didn't much care for it. How was he supposed to prepare for Voldemort's return when he was lacking critical information?

XXXXX

 _January 10th. Ymer Island, Ravenhead._

Edward Parkinson had no idea what day it was or how long he'd been here, having no means by which to measure time. He didn't even know where 'here' was . All he knew was that he'd gone horseback riding as he did every Saturday – a somewhat eccentric hobby for a proper pureblood, he knew, but he hadn't let that stop him from enjoying it – and the next thing he knew, he was waking up in a prison cell.

It wasn't bad, as far as prison cells went, much better than Azkaban to be sure. It was made entirely of smooth, dark stone and was neither too cold nor too hot. He had a a raised stone rectangle with permanent cushioning charms weaved into it and a bedroll on top of it to sleep on. He also had a sink that provided all the water he wanted and there was a magical toilet in a sectioned off area so at least he didn't have to do his business in full view of his fellow prisoners. Meals were delivered regularly and they were more than just bread and water as he'd half-expected. He even had a working shower to wash himself in.

All in all, it was fairly comfortable, if lacking in entertainment aside from talking to the other captives. Nothing compared to the luxuries he was used to, but honestly better than he'd feared when first waking up.

Potter was apparently not interested in being cruel, but he wasn't interested in being kind either. In fact, Edward got the feeling that Potter found this entire exercise of abducting people and bringing them to wherever this place was to be quite tedious. It was a disquieting feeling, to be thought of as a mere nuisance.

He would have wondered why the young wizard was even doing it if he hadn't been able to glean from the interrogation he received soon after waking up in captivity that the Dark Lord was still alive somehow and that Potter was acting to weaken him.

That had been a shock, and not a particularly pleasant one either. Edward had been sure that the Dark Lord was dead and had been glad of it. However much he hated the muggles and mudbloods, it had quickly become clear that Voldemort was not any better for their world than that filth. Maybe that was why he'd never made it into the Inner Circle.

The certainty that joining the Death Eaters had been a bad idea had once again been reinforced by Potter. The Dark Lord had been a cruel master and now Potter was a ruthless enemy, for no other reason than that association.

Edward once again cursed the youthful foolishness that had led him to this situation, caught in the middle of a power struggle between two wizards that could squash him like a bug... At least his wife and daughter were safe, Potter was at least not as indiscriminate and monstrous as the Dark Lord...or was that just the effect of his women? Edward briefly considered what the Dark Lord would have been like if he had a woman or two to keep him company and snorted in laughter. The only woman crazy enough to get near Voldemort would be Bellatrix and that lunatic would only serve to make him more monstrous rather than less.

"What's so funny, Parkinson?" Alexius Carrow demanded from his own cell.

"Nothing, just a thought I had." Edward sighed, garnering a scoff from the other man.

Carrow was taking his imprisonment much less calmly than him and was constantly looking for an excuse to start an argument. Edward supposed that he would be feeling upset too if he'd lost an ear and two fingers during Potter's interrogation like Carrow had.

"Was it a thought about how we're going to escape?" one of the other prisoners asked sarcastically.

Edward sighed again. Escape...that would be quite a trick. They had no wands and no idea what Potter had done with them, the cell was solid stone, the bars thick steel, wards prevented any Apparition or Portkeys... If there was any way to escape from this place, he couldn't think of it.

The other continued debating ideas about how to escape, all of them quite unrealistic. Some even thought that the Dark Lord would come to save them, the news of his continued existence having spread.

Edward didn't participate in those discussions. He'd once been hopeful about escape or rescue too, but seeing Potter take people out of their cells and never returning them made him doubt that any of them would ever be tasting freedom again.

The grind of stone on stone imposed an abrupt, heavy silence on the room. That sound heralded Potter's arrival and for all of their bravado and pride, none of them wanted to draw the powerful young wizard's attention. Edward was uncomfortably reminded of the change in atmosphere when Voldemort entered a room.

Potter's footsteps seemed to echo like thunder through the room, though realistically the sound was nothing impressive. It was the promise of another one of them being led off to die that made them loud.

All of them waited tensely as he walked past them, frozen like frightened deer, too afraid to move for fear of drawing attention.

Edward tensed fearfully when Potter stopped in front of his cell and give him a considering look. Then he sighed in relief when those unnerving green eyes turned away and landed on Alexius.

"Carrow, today is your day I think." Potter said.

"You'll pay for this, Potter!" Carrow suddenly screamed, flinging himself at the bars.

The once powerful lord now looked half-mad, his eyes wide and wild.

"The Dark Lord will destroy you!" Carrow continued screaming.

"Maybe." Potter allowed, clearly unimpressed. "I won't say it's impossible for Voldemort to win in the end despite everything I'm doing, but you won't be around to see it."

Then he sent a stunner at Carrow, sending him unconscious to the ground.

A quick transfiguration opened a hole in the bard and Potter levitated the unconscious wizard out, leaving the dungeon without another word.

Edward took a seat on the block of stone that acted as his bed in this place and put his head in his hands, trying to calm his racing heart. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

XXXXX

 _Later. Ravenhead Spire._

Carrow hadn't died well, Harry thought, not that it was much of a surprise. Privilege, snobbery and an unwarranted sense of superiority rarely made for a strong spine. At least his death had been useful, he was getting better at directing the magical discharge of unwilling sacrifice. He already had some new ideas for tweaks that could be made to the ritual circle that would prevent the energy from lashing out unpredictably. Hopefully he wouldn't need more than two or three more attempts to get it just right, he had a limited supply of victims after all.

Amelia Bones had recently used her now well-staffed, well-trained, and well-equiped DMLE to conduct a raid on Knocturne Alley and clean out a lot of the illegal activity going on there, leading to quite a few people being given free housing in Azkaban. That was good for Magical Britain and slightly inconvenient for Harry. A lot of the people he had in his dungeons had liked hanging around Knockturne Alley after all. Carrow, for example, had been snatched as he was performing one of his twice weekly visits to the brothel down there. Given his position, you'd think that the slimy bastard would have had a mistress or two to cater to those needs, but he had apparently developed a liking for one of the whores working there. The funny part was that this particular whore was a muggleborn. Carrow couldn't even keep his own prejudices consistent.

It was unfortunate that aside from Nott, Parkinson and Carrow, none of the other problematic lords had displayed any easily exploited habits. Their manors were warded too well for him to break through without alerting them, so he couldn't just break in whenever he pleased.

Etal _could_ slip through the wards as if they weren't there, the peculiar magical properties of a quetzalcoatl allowing him to remain undetected. The Anti-Portkey Ward prevented them from abusing the shit out of that unfortunately and the quetzalcoatl was far too recognisable anyway. If anyone saw him then it would be game over.

It was a moot point now anyway. His targets had scattered all over Europe, setting themselves up in places where it would be problematic to abduct them. The two that had gone to Durmstrang and suddenly taken up teaching especially.

He was surprised that none of them had gone to Albania. Before dying, Nott had squealed about the rumors and suspicions that he and his friends had about Voldemort hanging around Albania. Maybe he had underestimated how relieved they were to have their master gone?

Harry wished that he could do something about Voldemort directly, but no magic that he knew would be able to contain a wandering spirit. If he went to Albania himself, the only thing he would achieve would be to alert his enemy and perhaps spur him to action. He had no choice but to leave him be.

Truthfully, now that Voldemort's minions had made a run for it, he was at a bit of a loss as to what to do. The remaining Horcruxes remained elusive, with his only possible lead being Bellatrix, to whom he couldn't get through official channels because visits to maximum security prisoners had a mandatory Auror presence. Frustratingly, Sirius' escape from Azkaban via Animagus transformation had spurred the Ministry to add addition protections to the island that would block any repeats of that stunt. His own raven transformation would have been perfect for infiltrating the place stealthily.

He would have still risked it if only he could be sure that any potential Horcrux in Bellatrix's keeping was the last one. It wouldn't matter what the Ministry knew if that were the case.

 _Would be nice if Dumbledore did something too._ He thought with a scowl before shaking it off.

From what he could tell about the old wizard's movements, which was admittedly not much, Dumbledore was mostly snooping after him rather than Voldemort. And he was slower than dripping honey in winter about even that. He could have been an Ent in Lord of the Rings with how slow he was, they could even call him Slowbeard.

 _Slowbeard they call me, because it takes me at least three months to react to anything._ He snorted at the thought.

Harry had a sense that things were coming to a head, and that the days of going unchallenged were running out.

There was still at least a month and a half before they could head off to Egypt. Being the principal force behind Magical Britain's new werewolf legislation meant that he had to stay and get everything running and that took time. At least Lupin would finally be useful for something, being both a werewolf and a good organiser that could be relied on to not do anything egregiously stupid.

The communication mirror business had also taken off and been an immediate success. That was another venture that took up – and would continue to take up – enough time that he couldn't just leave the country yet.

The timing was actually pretty lucky, as they would likely be in Egypt when the shitstorm with Fleur's pregnant grandmother broke out. He was still having trouble reconciling the fact that he'd gotten a woman pregnant, even if it was a veela.

Maybe he would get lucky in Egypt too and find some ancient spell or ritual to deal with disembodied spirits? They had been big on Necromancy after all. That would be terribly convenient but Harry didn't hold out much hope for it.

The grind of stone on stone interrupted his thoughts and Harry smiled as he sensed Luna's familiar aura.

The petite blonde hurried over to him and burrowed under his coat, jamming her cold hands against his skin.

"Brrr," She said with a shiver. "Why do you have the Windbreaker disabled?"

"Standing on top of a tower just isn't the same without the wind." Harry replied, amused.

"But you've been up here for hours." Luna pouted up at him. "Aren't you cold?"

Harry blinked. Had it really been that long? He'd come here after sacrificing Carrow, finding this open space to be more conducive to shaking off the grasping reach of the Void than his gloomy laboratory below, but he must have really gotten lost in thought.

Instead of answering, Harry drew on what Light he could reach here. It was winter in the Arctic Circle, which meant essentially permanent night, but there were always the stars.

Luna sighed happily as his body and magic heated up the air around him and rubbed her face against his chest.

"Better?" He asked, petting her hair and exerting iron control over the sudden impulse to fuck her raw on the spot. Light was so much more troublesome than Dark, but at least its side-effects were short-term and obvious. Etal liked it too, though he wasn't sure if that was just him being a snake and liking it warm or some quetzalcoatl instinct that he couldn't articulate properly.

"Much." Luna chirped and then giggled. "But I think we woke up Pokey the Impregnator."

Harry groaned in despair. Luna, Fleur and Dora had saddled his penis with that nickname in the wake of him getting Fleur's grandmother pregnant, the giggly wenches.

He supposed it could be worse. They could have been pissed instead of amused. It was honestly the only reason he wasn't more annoyed by the ridiculous nickname.

"No, _you_ woke him." Harry said sternly. "Now you get to put him back to sleep."

Luna squealed with laughter as he tossed her over his shoulder and made his way back into the tower, to the rarely used bedroom he had installed into it.


	38. Chapter 38

**Response to the butthurt feminist guest reviewer: Where exactly did I sexualise women for the entertainment of men? Was it Septima? Some people – and not just women – are like that, they enjoy having control taken away from them. Was it Narcissa? She's essentially been magically brainwashed and doesn't count. Was it the veela? They're not human and their sexual inclinations as a species in my particular take on things doesn't devalue them as people, that's something that should be a no-brainer for a woman with a mind and feelings such as yourself. What problem could you possibly have had with the way I described women being dressed? The only time I even mention clothing in any detail is during social functions and they could hardly show up to those wearing jeans and a hoodie. The only other example I can think of is the women throwing themselves at Harry for his money and power or even just his looks...I hope you're not suggesting that women like that don't exist.**

 **If I'm missing something then feel free to make an account and PM me. If you actually have a good point I'll even apologise for calling you a butthurt feminist and admit to my mistake in the next chapter's starter AN. If, as I suspect, you are indeed just a butthurt feminist, then you can suck on my chauvinistic male balls.**

 **Many thanks go to Joe Lawyer for his excellent feedback as a beta reader.**

XXXXX

 _February 25th. Ravenhead._

"Parkinson, your turn. Come on out."

The bland tones of Potter's voice were jarringly at odds with the terror they inspired.

Edward Parkinson had long since given up any hope of rescue or survival. He knew that one day, Potter would come for him and do whatever it was he did with the people he'd abducted. He had silently determined to himself that he would meet his end with the dignity befitting a lord of a noble House. Yet now that the moment had arrived, he found his legs too frozen with fear to move.

"You can come out on your own or I can stun and levitate you."

And that wouldn't be very dignified would it? Edward swallowed and forced his legs to move.

"After you." The young wizard said mockingly, indicating where he was to go with his arm.

Edward briefly considered attacking his captor physically, but the thought passed quickly. Potter was bigger and stronger than him, had a knife at his belt and needed no wand to do magic. It would be suicide.

So he just walked where he was told and said nothing.

Edward might have attempted conversation if not for the terror that closed his throat. The heavy silence and ominous footsteps was maddening.

Several times during the trip, he thought of spinning around and attacking Potter, but he could never work up the nerve to do it. And what would be the point anyway? They had already passed through several stone doorways that needed magic to open and Potter didn't even seem to have his wand with him. Even if he managed to overpower him by some miracle, he'd still be left stranded in an empty hallway.

Far too soon for Edward's liking, they arrived at their apparent destination.

It was clearly a potions laboratory of some sort, but nothing like anything he'd seen before. For one thing, the room was entirely too large and filled with too many odd things for it.

The set of cauldrons he recognised, same with the shelves full of ingredients kept behind thick glass doors even though some of them looked disturbingly like human organs. There was also a collection of knives in an adjacent glass cupboard, ranging from tiny to meat cleaver in size. Edward preferred not to speculate on their uses.

That was all that looked familiar though and it occupied only a small area of the room. One wall was taken up by large glass tubes filled with a green-tinged, but otherwise clear, liquid. A few of these tubes had some strange, brown-skinned creature floating in it that looked like an unholy love-child between a house-elf and a goblin. It had big, pointy ears and big, round eyes almost like a house-elf, clawed hands and feet almost like a goblin, though they were four and three-digited respectively. That was where the similarity ended however, as it also had six, strange little bone spikes along its jaw and was also a bit taller than either house-elf or goblin, with disproportionately long hands compared to its body and a complete lack of any visible genitalia.

The last notable thing in the room were two stone slabs, each with iron manacles attached and a strange silver-colored machine sitting on a pedestal between them.

"Like it?" Potter asked, making Edward jump.

"What?" He asked nervously.

"My laboratory, you like it?" Potter repeated.

"I guess." Edward said cautiously, unsure of how to respond.

"I'm glad someone does." Potter groused, baffling him greatly with his companionable tone. "I know I've been spending a lot of time in here lately, going through your fellow prisoners because I don't want to leave you unattended while I'm on vacation, but my girls sometimes act as if I'm deliberately neglecting them by using you for my experiments instead of just killing you. I just don't like to waste resources, you know?"

Edward blanched at the blunt statement.

"You don't have to do this." He pleaded desperately, his determination to die with dignity abandoning him quickly now that the time had come. "I'll take my family and leave the country, we'll never get in your way again. You can obliviate the past few months from my mind if you want."

Potter only stared at him blankly.

"Please...I don't want to die."

"Don't want to die?" Potter echoed with a tone of amusement. "Do you remember your initiation to the ranks of the Death Eaters, Parkinson? The young boy and his parents that you killed?"

Edward did remember. It had disturbed him a little bit, to kill something that looked like any other family, but they were mudbloods and muggles in the end. He'd gotten over it.

"Do you know why they died?"

What kind of question was that? They died because he'd killed them, because they were a threat to their way of life and the Dark Lord had commanded their deaths.

"They died because of ignorance and fear."

"I'm not afraid of mudbloods." Edward bit out, realising that it was perhaps unwise, but his pride wouldn't let him stay quiet.

"Really?" Potter chuckled, apparently amused. "Fear is such an interesting thing. It lies at the core of all living things, the most powerful impulse of spirit and the most pervasive of all emotions. Fear is at the heart of shame, it lurks behind anger and hope, you can't even have love without fear. After all, if you aren't afraid to lose it, then do you truly care? A man without fear would be a monstrous thing indeed. Of course, the problem with fear is that it produces idiots like you, who are so desperate to do away with the cause of their fears that they don't stop to think. You probably rationalised it away as protecting your world, but in truth, you were just lashing out. Little better than a cornered rat really."

"We _were_ protecting our world." Edward said tersely, a spark of anger making it through his fear.

Potter merely nodded condescendingly. "Mhm, there you go again, lying to yourself. You were protecting your privileges and nothing more. It used to be simpler, didn't it? Mudbloods knew their place back in the days of your grandfather's grandfather? Well of course they did – the mundane world was a dirty, harsh place for the common people back then. Coming into a world of magic where food wasn't scarce and they could live in good, clean homes and didn't have to perform backbreaking jobs from dawn to dusk must have been like a dream. What was a little bigotry in comparison to that? It was no different than what they had to put up with from the rich before. But the world changed. While wizards stagnated, muggles progressed. The old order was torn down and ideals of equality for all took its place. It's a lie for the most part, but people like to believe it and the mudbloods are no longer content to have their pride stepped on. You could see that, even if you didn't understand, and you feared."

That struck Edward hard, because he could indeed recall more than one grumbling conversation between his peers about how the mudbloods didn't know their place anymore. It also seemed to present a straw to grasp, something that might convince Potter not to kill him.

"But you're a lord yourself, a lord of two powerful families." He said, trying to keep the edge of desperation out of his voice. "Why would you undermine your own position and give to mudbloods what you might leave to your children instead?"

Edward remembered too late that Potter's mother had also been a mudblood, but he still thought it was a good argument.

His captor seemed to disregard the insult to his mother, but also snorted derisively as he replied. "And have them turn out as useless as Draco Malfoy or your daughter? As entitled and obnoxious as Theodore Nott? As stupid as Marcus Flint? I'd sooner see it all fade to nothing. Magic offers so much to even those born in the most disadvantaged of positions... I won't let any children of mine hide behind money or heritage. If they are worth anything at all, they won't need to."

Edward didn't understand Potter at all. He was insane, he had to be.

"But we've drifted off topic, I had a point I was getting to." The madman said. "I'm afraid too. I might have lucked out into a huge advantage that allows me to learn magic much faster than should be possible, I might have a better understanding of the underlying nature of magic than anyone alive, I might have more raw talent than anyone in my generation or a hundred generations before and I might have enough potential, dedication and love for learning magic to become the most accomplished sorcerer to have ever walked this world, but I'm still only sixteen and with very little real combat experience. Voldemort is more than four times my age and seems rather combat specialised. If I take him lightly, he's going to obliterate me. The irony here is that Voldemort, too, is afraid. I don't know what happened to him in his youth to make him hate and fear the mundane world so intensely, but nobody claws at life and power like him if they aren't afraid. He wouldn't have tried to kill a toddler if he wasn't terrified. I bet he doesn't even know what he wants to do with himself if he wins, he's just too scared to stop."

The moment he stopped talking, Potter's hand snapped in his direction, fingers curled like claws and Edward felt an invisible force take hold of him like a giant's fist.

"That's why it doesn't matter what you _want_." Potter said grimly. "The Dark Lord preyed on your fear and your ignorance to lure you into his service, Voldemort's fear of anyone that might challenge him has made him an implacable enemy to me and my fear of him now compels me to kill his slaves before they can be used against me. We've come full circle, Parkinson."

He was thrown roughly onto one of the stone slabs he'd noted nearlier and the iron manacles attached to them quickly grabbed hold of his arms and legs, immobilising him. Then, as he was gasping from the pain of the impact, a rubber ball was shoved into his mouth.

"Sorry about the ballgag, but I really dislike the sound of people screaming in pain or begging for their lives. I'd knock you unconscious, but I'm afraid that what I'm about to do to you would probably wake from anything short of being dosed with the Draught of Living Death and I don't want to waste one of those on you." Potter said, sounding frighteningly sincere.

Edward instinctively struggled in his restraints, but it was predictably futile.

Potter kept talking, now fiddling with the machine that stood between him and the other slab. "In case you're wondering what this is, it's a life-drain machine."

Edward stared at the machine in wide-eyed horror and started struggling even more fiercely.

Potter went on in the same calm tone as he used a knife to cut open his robe and leave him bare-chested. "I got the idea from the Princess Bride. Great film, I'd recommend it to you if you had any idea what a television was. I suppose you could also read the book, but it's a bit of a moot point since I'm about to kill you."

Edward ineffectually vocalised his fear into the rubber ball stuffed in his mouth.

"Don't worry too much, it'll be over relatively quick. Unlike the original life-drain machine from the Princess Bride, my version isn't a tool of torture. I never really understood that part. You made a machine that can suck the life out of people and you're using it for torture? That's like using a pair of wands as chopsticks."

A single suction cup was placed over his heart and it stuck there, obviously magically. "Did you know that it's important to consider the purpose of a particular item when enchanting it?" Potter asked idly.

Edward hadn't really known that, but then he'd been only a middling student and not very good at enchanting besides. He had bigger concerns at the moment than Potter's nonsensical questions.

"You'd think it wouldn't matter, but it does. If you take away the magic, this is actually just a mechanical suction pump. It took a bit of modfying to get it just right, but I think I finally got it. Can't make a life-drain machine out of a hammer or a beer stein after all, however amusing that would be."

Edward was not feeling very amused right now.

"Alright, now to get the other half of this experiment..." Potter muttered and walked towards the fluid-filled glass tubes that he'd noted earlier.

He stopped in front of one of those that held those odd creatures and must have cast a spell of some sort. The fluid drained away, leaving the creature slumped lifelessly in its glass enclosure. Another spell levitated the entire glass container, giving Potter access to the creature.

"You ever seen one of these?" The clearly deranged young wizard asked brightly.

Edward had not, not that he was really able to answer.

"It's a Brown Minion in case you were wondering." Potter explained anyway, for some reason looking as if he was having trouble not laughing. "They were used by the Fourth Overlord to overthrow the Glorious Empire, and by his predecessors before him to overthrow less impressively named lands."

Edward had never heard of any overlords, nor of a Glorious Empire. Maybe it was something that Binns hadn't covered in History of Magic? Entirely possible since all he talked about were the Goblin Rebellions.

"They're a necromantic construct, in case you were wondering." Potter continued to lecture. "You might know about Inferi, which is really just a dumb name for zombies that makes it sound vaguely satanic for no good reason. Inferi are the results of beginner's Necromancy – any moron can use a dead body's residual life force to reanimate dead flesh. Well maybe not _any_ moron, but it's not that hard to do. Minions, on the other hand, are much more impressive if I do say so myself. To simplify, you create the desired dead body to your own specifications and then pump it full of life force to animate it. That's at least intermediate Necromancy and much better than a shambling, half-rotted carcass. Ideally, I would have a Minion Hive to do most of the heavy lifting and pop out Minions like a conveyor belt, but that would require me to do some serious experimenting with the reproductive organs of human females, especially witches and possibly squibs. Too bad that there seems to be such a dearth of violently psychotic or murderous witches around. It makes me wish I hadn't killed Alecto Carrow last year, even if it was a useful death. Aside from her and Bellatrix, it seems that most witches prefer to display their malice in more subtle ways. Good for them, bad for me. My girls are very tolerant of what they call my 'morally dubious experiments', but they'd almost certainly object if I started snatching non-Death Eater witches or squibs or muggles, even if they weren't very nice people. Fleur and Dora would at least. I have trouble understanding why to be perfectly honest – they seem to be okay with what I did to Narcissa and that was hardly any nicer than killing her and harvesting her organs. Not as messy perhaps, but one could argue that turning a proud, haughty woman like that into my happily brainwashed mistress is worse than a clean death, even if she is overall a more pleasant person to be around now. The worst part here is that I _used to_ understand...I think. And now I don't, not really. That's why I let the girls have the final say about who I experiment on in case you wanted to know, besides making them feel better of course – I just can't be sure how far from 'normal' I've strayed. If it was up to me, I'd have snatched the likes of Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle over a Hogsmeade weekend or something, but Dora protested that they're too young and that they hadn't done anything yet. I tried to explain that they're going to be a problem in the future, or that they're not any younger than me, or any number of other perfectly valid reasons to take care of them right away, but she wouldn't budge and got upset when I said that she wasn't thinking rationally. Even Fleur didn't look like she agreed with me and Luna was unwilling to pick a side. I suppose Bones probably wouldn't be happy with me killing 'children' either and Narcissa still loves her son...When it comes down to it, the only thing protecting those twits from me is other people's sentimentality. I'm not willing to drive a wedge into my relationships with the few people I care about over them, but I just know that this is going to blow up in our faces. I've had that happen often enough to recognise a fuck up in the making, and I probably won't even get to say 'I told you so' when it does."

Potter's friendly, rambling tone made everything so much worse, simply because it gave him the distinct feeling that he wasn't doing this out of any kind of spite or hatred. Edward Parkinson was just collateral damage to him.

"Right, I think we're all set." Potter said after attaching something to the creature's chest and looking everything over again to make sure. "It's a good thing that magic makes it much easier to quantify bio-energy than science, or else this would be way harder."

Edward wasn't listening anymore, he lay lifelessly in his bindings and wished that Potter would just shut up.

"I'm freaking you out, aren't I?" The clearly insane wizard asked. "It's pretty strange how weak the average death eater's stomach is given the stuff you guys got up to back in the day. You can murder, rape and torture like it's going out of style, but the thought that the tables might turn one day never seems to occur to any of you. If we had time, it would have been an interesting experiment to see if I could break through your social conditioning and make you understand how similar you are to those you hate. It's an impressive feat of willful ignorance.

"I'm not surprised though – ignorance, willful or otherwise, is a requirement of civilisation. The truth is a terrible thing, you see. It cuts deeper than the sharpest sword, it strikes with more force than the heaviest warhammer and it spares no one. The fragile human ego and paper-thin sense of security that society is made of isn't strong enough to withstand it, not even close. Social mores, religion, law, culture, tradition...mankind excels at obsfucating the ugly truths of the world from itself with those kinds of trifles. Look too far behind the curtains and you get...well, _me_."

By Merlin, why couldn't the lunatic just get it over with? If he had to die, then Edward would prefer not to listen to Potter spouting philosophy beforehand.

"Yes, Parkinson, I know I'm getting on your nerves." Potter said as if he'd read his mind. For all he knew, he might very well have done exactly that. "Sorry about that, but it's become a bit of a habit to monologue to people that I'm about to kill. Terrible habit, I know. I don't even need any James Bond films to tell me that. Still, it's proven to be a good way for me to express my thoughts verbally. Sometimes, things that sound good in your head are revealed to be rubbish when they come out of your mouth."

So he was lying here, chained to a stone slab, with drool leaking from his mouth due to the rubber ball gagging him, because Potter liked to think out loud? Edward wished he had attacked the bastard earlier. It would have been more dignified.

"No, it wouldn't have been." Potter answered his thoughts, confirming Edward's suspicion that he knew Legilimency. "I was waiting for you to do it, but you didn't have the nerve. Don't feel too bad about that though, you weren't the only one. I'm so much stronger than you that the idea of attacking me filled you with a subconscious dread. It's the same reason that Voldemort and even Dumbledore have such intimidating presences, though the old man keeps his hidden as much as possible. I have to wonder if Voldemort doesn't hate muggles so much because they don't have this same kind of magical sixth sense and aren't instinctively intimidated by him. For all I know it could be a significant reason for why wizards dislike interacting with muggles; their lack of aura. It certainly bothers me."

Potter sank into a contemplative silence for a few seconds, before he shook his head and met Edward's eyes again. He was smiling ruefully.

"I know you must think that I'm insane. I don't blame you – it's a knee-jerk human response to anything that doesn't fit your personal understanding of the world. I'm something much worse than insane though. I'm terribly, terribly _sane_. Or at least I'm trying to be. Peeling away the layers of falsehood that you're living under becomes harder once you're done with the obvious ones, especially when some of them are intrinsic to your personality. Some day, I should thank that dementor that nearly gave me a smooch a few years ago...there's nothing quite like a glimpse of eternity to make you think..."

Potter trailed off again, but something was different this time. He didn't seem merely lost in thought, but completely absent.

For a whole two minutes, Edward looked on in confusion as the green-eyed wizard stared blankly out into space, barely moving the whole time. Potter could make all the claims of sanity he wished, but there was clearly something very wrong with him.

"I miss it, you know?" He abrutly continued as if nothing had happened, making Edward jerk in surprise. "The Dark. I know what it does to people now, how it made me colder. My upbringing might not have been conducive for fostering empathy, but I didn't used to be like this. I threw up when I killed Pettigrew, now I'm putting Frankenstein to shame and I don't feel anything. I tried to act 'normal', for what that's worth, but it turns out that you can't simply unlearn sociopathic traits once you've developed them. There's no telling what I'd be like if it wasn't for my girls and their beautiful souls. It makes me wonder if Luna doesn't have a touch of foresight with the way she insisted that I Join with her, or if it was just her being Luna. The Dark is beautiful too, it blankets the world in despair. A thing of tranquility, a thing serene..."

Potter trailed off and went into that creepy stillness again. It was another few minutes before he continued.

"I lied to you a little bit before." He admitted, not seeming to realise his lapse. "I said that I've been going through my prisoners so quickly lately because I'm going on vacation and didn't want to leave you unattended. That was true, but the main reason is because the Dark is closest when I kill. I'm like a fat guy trying to diet, but still going over to sniff the sausages all the time. I know it's dumb, but I can't stop. In my dreams I see a world without fire, frozen all the way to the core, drifting through a starless void..."

Another long pause. It gave Edward time to consider what he'd just heard, unfortunately. Potter might not be as prone to violent outbursts as the Dark Lord, but he was infinitely more unnerving. He didn't even seem to be talking to him anymore, but to himself.

"I thought it was just withdrawal symptoms at first and ignored it. That was dumb too, thinking that I could treat this like a drug addiction. I tried drawing on the Sun every day, thinking that its Light would help. It didn't. If anything, it's even worse. The Light is so harsh and loud... My self-control is frayed, my attention span isn't what it used to be and I have too much energy all the time. My runes...such a crude, permanent thing I did to myself and they're so tangled up with each other. I didn't know what I know about magic now, I didn't account for how saturated with my magic my body is. The more I draw on the Sun's power, the more I strengthen their effects and the more I yearn for the calming touch of Dark..."

Potter paused again, but seemed thoughtful this time rather than absent. Then he turned to look at Edward with an oddly apologetic smile. "I think I've bored you enough with my personal issues already, even if you are a surprisingly good listener, at least when you're gagged. Believe it or not, this has helped me reach a decision on something that has been gnawing at me for some time. Etal isn't going to like it, but I got suckered in by his legend and made the mistake of assuming that he was wise. He might be smarter than most people and have superb senses, but he's still an animal. He likes what he likes and doesn't think any further than that. I can't keep leaning just this way or that, I have to find balance."

That didn't mean a damn thing to Edward, who was, quite frankly, more than a little irritated, scared and disturbed by what Potter was talking about.

"You have my thanks for listening to me pontificate. I'm almost sorry for choosing such a painful end for you, but it's too late to change my mind now. I know you're afraid to die and I won't say it's without reason, but try not to fight it and take comfort in knowing that it will all be over soon. The embrace of Dark is gentle. Let it absorb your sorrows, forever."

Edward had only a moment to experience the stark certainty of his imminent death before Potter activated the life-drain machine and turned his existence into pain.

XXXXX

Harry watched with anticipation as the last of Parkinson's muffled screaming faded away, hoping to see his creation rise to life.

It rose alright, but not to life. Its chest bloated like balloon and then exploded in a shower of gore, raining blood and viscera all over the laboratory. It was a good thing that all the sensitive stuff was protected.

"That wasn't supposed to happen." He muttered, wiping a splotch of dark blood from his face. "Back to the drawing board I guess."

He wasn't too disappointed though. Creating a whole new form of life – or unlife – wasn't something you did over the course of a few weeks after all.

And it wasn't even the most important thing he'd gotten out of this little episode. He hadn't meant to unload on Parkinson like that, but one thing had led to another... Still, he was glad he had. Now he just needed to convince his girls and Etal that shunning the Dark wasn't working.

XXXXX

 _February 29th. Potter Manor._

"...doesn't look like it's going to be possible to create a single emergency number and split it between multiple mirrors. The enchantment always collapses when there are two or more callers and nothing we've done so far has worked to stabilise it." Septima was saying.

"That's alright, it was always a long shot." Harry shrugged. "We'll just go with Plan B – reserve numbers one through fifty or something like that for St. Mungo's, the DMLE, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and whatever else. I already have Fudge sold on the idea."

It hadn't even been hard, just a story about how Cornelius Fudge would be lauded as the wisest and most forward thinking minister of magic to have ever held office. It wasn't even a lie really – giving the wizards and witches of the British Isles the ability to call for help from law enforcement, medical professionals or disaster reversal in a quick and convenient way was nothing to sneeze at. Well, the part where Fudge thought of it was a lie, but it _was_ wise and forward thinking.

"Speaking of sales, how are they doing?" He asked, turning to Penny.

"Improving." Penny said, looking down at a few notes she took. "People are still complaining about having to use numbers instead of their names, but at the rate things are going we can reasonably expect every magical household in the country to have at least one mirror by year's end."

Harry nodded thoughtfully and turned back to Septima. "How long do you think it would take R&D to figure out a way to tweak the enchantment to accept an additional activation phrase?"

"It doesn't sound like a problem." Septima answered after a moment, frowning in thought. "It would be simpler to put it in along with the rest of course, but it should be easy enough to add without disrupting the primary enchantment."

"Get them started on that then. We can charge extra for adding an activation phrase of their choice, providing that it isn't something too common."

"People won't like that." Penny warned.

"Extra features, extra cost." Harry shrugged. It was the same for people who wanted their mirrors to look a certain way instead of buying one of the standard models.

"Alright." Penny shrugged. "You've also received an interesting request from Director Bones. She wants to know if you could make a set of mirrors for the Auror Office, ones that couldn't connect or be connected to from an outside mirror."

"Ah, like a a work-only phone." Harry nodded, unsurprised. Convenient, instantaneus communication was a massive boon for any group of professionals, especially those engaging in risky pursuits. "Tell her that we can and that we will provide it free of charge, then ask her what kind of customisations she'd like. Schedule a meeting with Septima when she asks for more details."

"Were you expecting this?" Septima asked, amused.

"Of course." He'd already prepared a block of fossilized wood for the purpose, but hadn't wanted to broach the idea with Bones himself. If the people working for him were worth the gold he was paying them, they should be able to figure out how to make a sophisticated set of communication devices that were a good bit less clunky than handheld mirrors, even if they did still employ mirrored glass in their makeup.

"I'll write a reply to Director Bones as soon as we're done here. The only other thing I have for you today is the list of potential managers you asked me to compile."

"Nice." Harry said with a grin. "let's see it then."

Penny handed a stack of papers and he began looking over each applicant carefully. The shop in Diagon Alley already had a manager, but this list was for stores that he expected to open in other countries. Thanks to the convenience of transport that magic allowed, production could and would remain in Britain, but he had to make purchase of the mirrors available in a given person's native country if he wanted to profit from that market.

"A werewolf?" Harry asked in surprise.

"One of those that immigrated to Britain recently." Penny said with a nod. "He has the necessary qualifications, so I didn't think you'd care that he was a werewolf."

"I don't." Harry said absently, reading further. The man did, as Penny had said, have the necessary qualifications. He'd been bitten in his late twenties, which had given him time to get some working experience before the stigma of his lycanthropy made holding down a job difficult. "This one I think we'll want. Aside from the good publicity, people might also be less inclined to snarl complaints at a werewolf manager, if he's willing to move out of the country again that is. Are there any other outliers like him?"

"Well, there's a veela, from France." Penny said reluctantly with a small grimace.

"Ah." Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

It had been a solid three months now since he'd knocked up Fleur's grandmother and the news had already started spreading. The healer that had discovered the pregnancy was a veela herself and she'd consulted a more senior healer, another veela, before delivering the happy news. Veela fucked a lot, which also meant a lot of pillow talk, which was a well known bane of secrecy.

Aurélie had tried to keep it quiet for as long as possible as a consideration towards him, even moving in with her youngest daughter for the duration of the pregnancy, but it had been a doomed effort from the start. If it hadn't been the healers, then one of her daughters, granddaughters or son-in-laws would have blabbed.

While the news of a sixty-seven-year-old veela getting pregnant certainly didn't merit front page news, the story had spread quickly in the veela community. As Aurélie had said would happen, it hadn't taken long for someone to piece together the various bits of information floating around and finger him as the most likely candidate to be the father.

Then there was the fact that he'd slept with five veela now. He already knew that Fleur had gossiped and bragged about his prowess to her friends and aquaintances in France and it was safe to assume the other four had as well... Yeah, that had contributed to the current situation as well.

Mainstream French magical society seemed to be oblivious, which was a small mercy, but Harry had already started receiving letters. There were older veela, ranging from fifty to an unbelievable ninety-four, politely requesting that he try to get them pregnant as well, often offering all sorts of incentives for the service. There were middle aged, married veela telling sad stories of trying to conceive for years without success and asking that he step in for their husbands. There were young veela looking for an adventure, including one particularly brazen sixteen-year-old that had suggested a free-for-all sex party.

The term 'drowning in pussy' had never been so exasperating. Flattering all this female attention might be, but he had things he wanted to do besides fuck.

"You think she's just trying to use this to get into my pants?" Harry asked.

"Well she _does_ have the skills required for the job..." Penny admitted with a hint of pink on her cheeks.

"But?"

"I think you might want to look at her letter yourself." Penny said uncomfortably and handed him the letter in question.

Harry quickly read it over and understood what his steward meant. The letter was full of thinly veiled innuendo about how this veela was looking forward to 'exploring the intricacies of their working relationship' during the interview and how she 'hoped he was satisfied when he drilled deep into her past'. At least she was honest about her intentions.

Now the question was if she actually wanted the job or if it was just a pretense to get close to him. The application _appeared_ to be serius despite the blatant propositioning.

Harry briefly considered the pros and cons of a veela store manager. It was always a pro to have a beautiful woman selling your shit and she might hire more veela to man the store. On the flipside, she might not be serius about this or might even use her position of authority to fuck around with the other employees.

... on second thought, that wasn't necessarily a con. Harry didn't care who she fucked as long as things got done.

Harry decided that he couldn't turn someone away simply for wanting to have sex with him. "A French native would be useful for running our French branch when it opens...ignore the propositioning and treat her like any other candidate."

"Alright." Penny nodded, obviously approving of the approach. "That's all I had for the day, so unless you need me for anything else...?"

"Just one thing. Could you order us a tourist portkey to Egypt for five from Diagon Alley?" It would probably be best to evacuate Britain before any veela got bold enough to make house calls. A few months of being unavailable would hopefully allow the worst of it to blow over.

"You think you'll be able to get away with using a tourist portkey like anyone else?" Penny asked skeptically.

She had a point, Harry knew. While Egypt was, unlike the Americans, rather relaxed about incoming portkeys, there was little chance of someone as high profile as him slipping quietly into the country like any other tourist. One of the pitfalls of a tiny, isolated society was that word got around _really_ fast. Plus, it would be easier to negotiate the opening of an Egyptian branch for Potter Communications if he allowed people to make a big deal out of it.

"No, I fully expect news of our trip to reach Fudge in less than a day. He'll panic like he always does and rush over here to talk to me about it. I'll have to explain to him that the sky won't fall if I'm not here to hold his hand, then I'll reluctantly accept his offer to contact a representative from the Egyptian Ministry of Magic to provide us with a VIP portkey so that he feels useful."

"Wow." Penny blinked. "Is he really _that_ predictable?"

"More predictable than the sunrise, that's Fudge." Harry snorted.

"Heh." Penny chuckled. "Alright, I'll go write the letter."

She left then, leaving Harry alone in his study with Septima.

"So, how are _you_ doing on the recruitment front?" Harry asked, getting up from his chair and turning to stare out the window.

"Not so well." Septima admitted, standing up as well. "There's only so many witches and wizards in Britain, and only a small part of those has both the required skill and the desire to work for you...I'm afraid we'll have to start recruiting abroad if you want to have enough people to keep up with demand once you start opening shops in other countries."

Harry nodded silently. He'd figured as much. Finding people that were willing to move to Britain in order to work for him would be significantly harder than simply having Septima contact her old students. No matter though, it would work out.

The sunlight on his face quickly managed to divert Harry's thoughts away from business and into magic. Really, it was fortunate that running a business in the magical world was so laughably simple in comparison to doing so in the mundane one or else he'd probably pull a Tony Stark – leave the boring stuff to other people while he tinkered in his lab.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, extending the reach of his senses.

Septima was standing just behind him, a bit nervous and awkward in the sudden silence, but with an undercurrent of eagerness. She thought that he was going to turn around and ravish her any second now, was hoping for it even. What strange sorts these submissive types were...most people would say that Septima was far more confident and self-assured now than she'd been a couple of years ago and they wouldn't be wrong, but they only knew half of the story. Septima found it paradoxically liberating and empowering to just let go and allow herself to be to be dominated.

Harry took another deep breath and tried to ignore the prickling sensation of his runes and the surge of raw _feeling_ that came in the wake of it. His heart thundered, the blood roared in his veins, his muscles screamed for action and he was suddenly sporting a massive erection. All the usual stuff that happened when frail human biology was touched by solar fire.

Another deep breath and he reached for the Void. It was hard to do in the middle of the day with the Sun's loud presence, but the Void was always there. Balance was hard too, but important. Humanity existed in the balance.

The pressure of a soft, female body leaning into him made his eyes snap open.

"Harry?" Septima asked softly and with just a little too much sigh in her voice to be merely concern.

Balance could wait for a little while though.

Harry turned around and grabbed Septima by the hair, just enough to hurt a little bit. She gasped in surprise and looked at him with eyes full of lust.

"You know I don't like it when people interrupt my thoughts." He said sternly.

"I'm sorry." She said, though she didn't sound even close to sincere. "Is there some way I could make it up to you?"

"I could think of a few..."

XXXXX

 _March 1st. Potter Manor._

Narcissa had long been aware that Cornelius Fudge was a greedy, dimwitted coward. Lucius had sometimes vented his exasperation with the man to her, as had Harry.

She herself had never interacted much with him and so had taken that with a grain of salt. Now that he was here, all but begging Harry not to leave, she realised that those tales had been, if anything, understated.

"Are you sure I can't convince you to put off your trip to Egypt for at least a few months?" Fudge fretted, nervously tapping his fingers against his leg. "With these dreadful disappearances happening, I really think that the people would feel safer if you were in the country."

Narcissa did not allow her amusement to show. She had never asked and Harry had never said, but it was very clear to her that the very man that Fudge was currently entreating had been behind those disappearances.

"There hasn't been a disappearance in a over a month now." Harry pointed out calmly.

"But what if they start happening again?" Fudge fretted some more. He was most likely worried about his own skin, or perhaps his reputation.

"Then my presence in Britain wouldn't change anything unless they tried to attack me. I don't have the legal authority to arrest criminals."

Fudge sighed and nodded in disappointment, but then suddenly looked up and beamed at Harry.

"What if I made you a sort of adjunct to the Minister of Magic, one with special powers and authority similar to an auror? That way you could act within the law."

Narcissa stared at the fat fool in disbelief and saw that Harry was similarly stunned. She knew that Harry had merely been stating facts and not attempting manipulation of any sort, yet Fudge had just offered to let him completely circumvent the DMLE.

Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and she knew that he was asking for her input. His first impulse was likely to refuse, but he trusted her to know if this was an offer worth taking. Narcissa's chest swelled slightly with pride at being so trusted.

Of course, this had the unfortunate side effect of drawing Fudge's attention to it. The man had no self-control whatsoever.

She'd worn light blue, knee-length skirt and a tight-fitting, cleavage-baring, cream-colored silk blouse today – one that employed spells to provide support for the breasts rather than a bra – in the hopes of enticing Harry to sleep with her, knowing that he found muggle clothing more attractive than robes. Giving Fudge a view had not been her intent, so her voice came out colder than strictly necessary.

"That would be unwise." She said with a chilly stare aimed at the idiot that made him shrink in his seat. "Not only would the Wizengamot be displeased with the idea of granting one of their own policing powers in addition to the judiciary ones he already has, but Amelia Bones would also be deeply unhappy to have her authority undermined."

Left unsaid was that it would also draw far too much attention to Harry's activities, whatever those were.

"Amelia works for me, she'll do as I say." Fudge snapped, his cheeks going red at the mention of the head of the DMLE.

Narcissa had to struggle not to roll her eyes. Fudge was terrified of Amelia Bones, forever paranoid that the far more competent woman would take his job. It wasn't an unfounded fear admittedly. Harry had contemplated ousting Fudge and backing Bones as the new Minister of Magic several times, most often after talking to Fudge for any length of time. A useful and malleable figurehead Fudge might be, but she knew that Harry was completely disgusted by the man's incompetence and all around fudgeness, as he called it.

"Narcissa is right." Harry interjected calmly. "Director Bones has enough on her plate without an unsupervised citizen being given auror powers and getting in her way. The last thing we want in these troubled times is for there to be tension where there doesn't need to be any, nor do we need to give the Wizengamot any more reason to grumble."

Narcissa had to admire that he could say that with a straight face. She knew that he took particular glee in making the Wizengamot grumble.

"I suppose you're right." Fudge said despondently. "I just wanted the people to feel safe again."

 _More like_ you _wanted to feel safe again._

"Everything will turn out fine, Cornelius, don't worry." Harry assured with utter confidence. "I may not be here, but Narcissa will be and I rely on her a great deal. Just contact her if you need help with anything. And if there is some kind of dire emergency, then she can contact me over the mirrors."

While Narcissa was not looking forward to further interaction with Fudge, the trust that Harry was placing in her and the desire to please him overrode it easily.

"Alright." Fudge nodded, already looking more assured now that he knew that there would still be someone around to tell him what to do. He really was quite pathetic. "But at least let me contact the Egyptians and have them send a representative to escort you. We wouldn't want them to think that you're just anyone."

"I was hoping not to cause a scene, but if you think it's for the best..." Harry said relctantly, though Narcissa knew it was faked. While he truly would prefer the anonymity, he had learned how to make use of his both his fame and infamy. He was better at it than Lucius had ever been, just like he was better at everything else than Lucius had ever been.

"I do." Fudge puffed up, oblivious as always to how he was being manipulated. He blustered out a few more assurances about how he'd make sure that the Egyptian Ministry of Magic showed him the proper respect and rose from his chair.

She and Harry escorted him to the Floo as was polite. Fudge probably didn't even know how to apparate...at least not without splinching himself.

"That man is like a living caricature of a politician." Harry muttered as soon as the green flames receded. "It should be illegal to be that stupid."

Narcissa knew an opportunity when she saw one.

"Would you like me to relieve you of some tension, my lord?" She purred, reaching out to gently run a hand over his crotch so that there could be no mistaking her intent.

"My tension, huh?" Harry smirked, his own hand darting forward and pinching a nipple between his fingers." Are you sure it's _my_ tension you're looking to relieve, Cissy?"

Narcissa gasped as he continued to pinch and pull at her nipple, blood rushing to both her face and her sex as her arousal quickly mounted.

She turned a smouldering look on him as she replied to his question. "Both."

Harry's smirk widened and he gestured with his hand. "Lead the way then."

Narcissa did just that, turning around and walking towards her bedroom.

It was hard to keep her pace measured instead of running towards it, such was her eagerness for what was to come. She could feel his eyes burning into her back and it made her knees want to tremble.

To think that she had once been able to go for months or even years without satisfaction when just the thought of her powerful lord had her juices flowing. Truly, Lucius getting himself killed was the best thing he had ever done for her.

The trip passed in a haze of lust and seemed to be over in an instant, yet it was still entirely too long for her tastes.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Narcissa threw herself at him and began kissing him ravenously. He returned it with equal passion and she reached towards the back of his head, seeking his hairband.

He had once used a plain cloth and rubber one of muggle make. Narcissa had tried to get him to wear something more fitting for his station, either something done with expensive cloth or precious metal, but to no avail. He turned it all down as being gaudy.

So naturally, when Nymphadora and Luna gifted him with a plain iron hairband shaped like a raven's skull, holding the usual enchantments designed to keep long hair in place, he liked it. His fondness for austerity was terribly frustrating sometimes.

The hairband clicked open under her questing fingers and released the mane of thick, black hair that she loved so much. Even as Harry's tongue plundered her mouth, she took an indecent amount of pleasure in running her fingers through it.

Harry took the hairband from her and Narcissa tore herself away from his mouth, gulping down some much needed air. Panting with lust, she pulled the shirt he was wearing over his head, sparing a moment of gratitude for the ease with which muggle clothing was removed.

His chest now naked before her, Narcissa bit her lip as she ran her fingers across it. Never had she imagined that she would find chest hair so attractive. The custom for pureblood men was to remove it with a few easy depilatory spells, so she'd considered it almost vulgar the first time she saw it. Now she could barely wait to touch it.

Or it could be the muscle underneath, that was also a possibility that deserved exploring. And explore Narcissa did, mostly with her mouth seeing as her hands were busy with his pants.

Just before she finally managed to remove the offending clothes, Harry stepped back and settled himself into a small couch that she used to read in.

"You said something about relieving some of my tension?" He said with a smirk. "I think I'd like to take you up on that."

"Of course, my lord." Narcissa said with a smile, going to kneel in front of him without hesitation.

Not that long ago, the obvious implication would have infuriated her. She had never used her mouth to pleasure a man before, thinking it demeaning and repulsive. The first time that Harry had implied that she was to do it, she hadn't really wanted to and had been extremely hesitant. Only the desire to obey and please her lord had pushed her to do it despite her reservations.

But that had long since changed, and now she took pride in her ability to pleasure him in any way.

His shoes, socks and pants came off easily and then he was exposed to the air, erect and hard, for her.

Narcissa had intented to take it slow, but as was often the case, his first sound of pleasure egged her on until she had her nose in his pubic hair and his member as far down her throat as it would go. He'd taught her how to do that too.

His musky scent and pleasured groans left her underwear soaked and her right hand seemed to slip under her skirt almost by its own accord. She knew that she should pace herself, but she desperately needed some relief.

In no time at all, she was whimpering around the thing in her mouth as her climax approached. It was all just too much; the smell, the sounds, his hand on her head, the sheer satisfaction of knowing that Harry was enjoying her ministrations...the orgasm made her legs shake even as she desperately kept working at his shaft.

Once it passed, Narcissa redoubled her efforts, embarrassed to have brought herself to climax before him. Fortunately, it seemed that he hadn't been far off, as she could tell by the way he was tensing and curling his fingers in her hair that he was very close.

She raised her eyes to look at him, taking in the sight of him with his head thrown back in pleasure with a sense of deep satisfaction. Pulling back a bit so that only his crown remained in her mouth, she started pumping his member vigorously with her left hand, closing her eyes again and waiting for the rush of hot, sticky seed to flood over her tongue.

He didn't dissapointed. With a grunt, Narcissa felt him tense and spill himself into her mouth. She gulped it down greedily and then made sure to lick every last drop off his member. His discharge was as clear a sign that she'd pleased him as there could be and she wasn't about to let any of it go to waste.

"Is my lord feeling better now?" She asked coyly, sitting back on her knees and batting her eyes at him.

Despite her very recent orgasm, Narcissa felt her arousal roar back in full force at the look her gave her.

"Yes, but I think I've still got some tension left." He said, glowing green eyes glittering darkly with lust.

Narcissa found herself pushed on the bed and given no time to think as he ripped her blouse off.

"I liked that blouse." She gasped inanely. Truth be told, she didn't care about the blouse at all right now, being far too focused on how utterly irresistible Harry was when he was this forceful.

"So did I." Harry grinned and ripped off her skirt.

That left her wearing only a pair heeled beige boots and a soaked, lacy black thong. Not for long though, as those articles of clothing were quckly disposed of as well.

Narcissa's breath was coming in quick, lusty pants as she waited for him to ravage her.

But he didn't. Instead, he took her hands and placed them on her ankles. Then he cast a sticking spell on them so that she couldn't let go.

"What are you doing?" She asked in a pleading whine that would have shocked anyone who had ever heard the usual composed, icy cadence of her voice, but she didn't care. Her core was aching with the need to have him buried inside her.

"Call it a little payback for playing with yourself earlier." Harry said with a wicked smirk and lowered his head between her legs.

Narcissa would not call being eaten out by a master of the skill a punishment by any stretch of the imagination. It took less than a minute for him to have her crying out in another orgasm.

While she was recovering, she felt an odd breezy sensation rush through her bowels, but was a bit too out of it to really pay attention.

She did pay attention to the questing finger that slipped into her arse. With the amount of fluids slicking her crotch and thighs, it encountered no resistance.

"What are you doing?!" She repeated with a gasp. That was dirty! Any attempt to get away was foiled by the fact that she had her hands stuck to her ankles, which she realised was probably the point.

"Punishing you." He replied, still giving her that wicked smirk.

The following fifteen minutes were a torturous ecstasy for Narcissa. Harry continued to apply his expert tongue to her sex, while at the same time stimulating her anally. She begged, she cried, she gasped for breath like a drowning woman and she orgasmed.

By the first climax of this treatment, she stopped trying to resist the finger wreaking havoc on her anal nerves.

By the second, she was actively trying to get it deeper.

By the fourth, she was too tired to do anything but gasp quietly as the pleasure shook her body.

The finger was removed and the spell undone, but Narcissa could only lay there and shiver as her sweat-soaked body was left to recover.

A weight settled down on her and she labouriously lifted her eyelids to look into the powerful green eyes her lord.

"You think you've been punished enough, Cissy?" He asked. "If not, I could always fuck you in the arse."

"Please..." She said weakly, not even sure if she was begging him to not do it, or _to_ do it. It didn't matter really, he could use her in any way he wanted and she would be glad of it. Harry knew what he was doing.

He seemed to decide not to and Narcissa cried out in happiness as he sheathed himself in her. She was too tired to do anything more than weakly wrap her arms and legs around him as he thrust into her, but it was wonderful.

She loved every moment of it, the slickness of sweaty skin against sweaty skin, the heavy smell of sex making her head swim, the weight of him pressing down on her, his teeth at her throat, the wet squealch every time he filled her, the grunts of pleasure as he approached release, the flood of warmth as he spilled his seed into her. It was all perfect, he was perfect and she was happy with her place in the world, that being to serve him.

"Pleasant dreams." She heard him chuckle into her ear and her lips curled into a slight smile. Yes, a little nap sounded good.

XXXXX

 _March 3rd. British Ministry of Magic._

When the day of departure came, Harry was only slightly irked and not at all surprised to find Fudge anxiously waiting for them when they stepped out of the lift in the Ministry atrium. The current Minister of Magic was more than enough of a dunce to forget that people were supposed to wait for him, not the other way around, especially when he was worried about something.

"Harry!" Fudge called out loudly the very moment he laid eyes on them.

The near-shout of course attracted the attention of pretty much everyone in the atrium, who immediately began gossiping to each other. There was even a camera flash when they shook hands in greeting and there was little doubt that it would be in the papers tomorrow.

"Cornelius." Harry said with a forced smile. Fudge might be as dumb as a box of rocks, but he never missed an opportunity to look good. Not that waiting for his arrival like some kind of lackey was a particularly good image for the Minister of Magic to have, but Fudge clearly didn't know that.

Just as Fudge moved to greet the others, Harry felt Fleur's magic reaching out, dragging at the fumbling politician's aura like a dozen gentle hands. _Looks like someone's feeling playful._

Fleur had been doing this whenever she thought she could get away with it ever since she had attained enough control over her magic to do it. Harry approved. It was good practice.

"Ladies." Fudge stammered, flushing bright red and his eyes drawn to Fleur as if magnetised.

Harry cleared his throat, hiding his amusement.

"Hm?" Fudge said dazedly, as if coming out of a dream. Then he seemed to realise that he had been staring at Fleur like a fool. "Oh yes, well, um, come along. The Egyptian representative is already waiting with your portkey."

"Lead the way then, Cornelius." Harry said, gesturing towards the main lift.

"What am I, chopped liver?" Sirius muttered too quietly for Fudge to hear as they started walking, clearly caught somewhere between amusement and irritation at being disregarded.

"Don't worry, Sirius, it's just the wrackspurts." Luna assured him.

Dora muttered something that sounded a lot like 'wrackspurts my arse', which was quickly followed by a little jump from Fleur as she had her behind pinched.

" _Wrackspurts?_ " Etal hissed, rising out of Harry's collar like a submarine periscope. " _What are those? Do they taste good?_ "

Harry couldn't quite keep the grin off his face at the absurd question. Come to think of it, this was the first time that Luna had mentioned wrackspurts around Etal.

" _I do not believe you can eat them._ " He advised the quetzalcoatl, his grin widening slightly when Fudge flinched at the sound of Parseltongue. _"According to Luna they are formless creatures that either cause confusion or appear around confused people. I have never seen any sign of their existence, but you could not eat them either way._ "

Etal huffed and sunk back into the collar, giving every impression of disappointment.

Harry kept the amusement off his face as they entered the lift and rode it down.

"Everyone, this is Nadia Sayegh. She works in Egypt's Department of International Magical Cooperation." Fudge said once they reached one of the Ministry's rarely used guest lounges , sticking his chest out self-importantly. "Ms. Sayegh, it is my distinct pleasure to introduce my good friend, Harry Potter, Lord of the Noble House of Potter and..."

Harry tuned out the moron's pompous droning and focused instead on examining this Nadia Sayegh.

Average height and build, perhaps late twenties with a light brown-ish skin tone, dark eyes, and black hair. Pretty in an exotic sort of way, even if the smile she gave him was diplomatic and a bit nervous. Her magic didn't feel particularly extraordinary...not as weak as Fudge of course, but certainly not strong enough to be truly classified as anything special either. An NPC type government employee then, possibly chosen in the hopes that a woman would make a better first impression on him. She was dressed in an officious-looking tan robe made of what seemed to be cotton. It looked to be well made, but the colors were a lot more drab than what you'd usually see British magicals wearing. Harry couldn't say he was displeased about the last part, considering the eye-watering crap some British magicals – such as Fudge and his fondness for lime green – favored.

"I am honored to meet you all." She said in lightly accented English once Fudge was done with the introductions and held up a coil of rope. "I have your portkey right here, unless you have some last minute business to finish?"

"We're ready to go." Harry said and took hold of the rope, the others following his example. "Goodbye, Cornelius."

"Bye." The Minister of Magic said with a little wave, already looking a bit lost.

XXXXX

 _March 3rd. Cairo, Egyptian Ministry of Magic._

The first thing that Sirius heard after the portkey deposited him was agitated hissing.

A quick look at the source revealed a cranky, full-sized quetzalcoatl looking quite put out by the mode of travel, and a placating Harry hissing back, trying to calm Etal down.

He also noticed that their escort was looking a bit frightened by the sight and quickly moved to reassure her. It was the gentlemanly thing to do after all and who knows, the lovely Egyptian witch might be agreeable to a later rendezvous afterwards.

"Don't worry, Etal just hates any kind of transportation magic." He said smoothly, giving her his best lady-killer smile.

"Oh, I see." The dark-eyed beauty said, visibly relaxing.

"So, Nadia, may I call you Nadia?" He pressed the attack.

"If you wish, Mr. Black." She said with a polite smile that Sirius took as a personal challenge.

"Please call me Sirius, Mr. Black was my father and he was a right bastard." Sirius said with a look of exaggerated distaste.

"Very well, if you insist." She said with a nod, still resisting the ol' Padfoot charm like a champion.

"I do insist, it's a very Sirius matter."

 _That_ finally broke through the diplomatic facade and garnered him a genuinely amused smile.

Ah, a woman that appreciated a good pun. So rare. This was going to be fun.

Harry had managed to calm Etal down by then and they started moving. Nadia acted almost like a tour guide as she pointed things out or sometimes commented on something.

Sirius had expected the Egyptian Ministry of Magic to be less...British. Oh, the layout and decor were different, as were the people and clothes, but the overall effect was still highly reminiscent of what they had just left behind.

He could see that Harry saw it too. He was thinking, always thinking. Sirius once again felt the bite of regret at having run off after Pettigrew and getting himself imprisoned. Harry might be an incredibly impressive wizard, but he was too old for his years. Would it be so bad if he was less powerful in exchange for acting his age?

He suspected that Harry would say so. His cynical godson valued his magic in a way that he valued few things. If magic was a woman, it would be his first.

Truth be told, Sirius didn't understand his godson very well. Harry had been a precocious kid when they'd met after his escape from Azkaban, but he had changed a great deal in the few years since then. He was a lord of the Wizengamot and far too serious to be healthy. He was more of an adult than most adults.

Ah well, if Harry couldn't act like a proper sixteen-year-old then at least he was a stud. Three girlfriends, one a veela and another a metamorphmagus...James would be so proud. James would also laugh himself silly upon hearing that his son had gotten his veela girlfriend's grandmother pregnant. Sirius certainly had.

"So, Nadia, what do you normally do in the DIMC?" Sirius asked curiously.

"I usually work in the Office of International Magical Law, but it was specifically requested that I be assigned as a liason to your group." She answered promptly.

"By who?" Harry asked, almost managing to hide the suspicion in his voice. Sirius doubted that anyone who didn't know him would notice.

"My grandfather." Nadia revealed easily. "He heard that you were going to be visiting and arranged it so that I could extend an invitation to stay as guests at his home. Unless you've already made other plans?"

Ah. Old boy network. That was very British too.

"We were intending to camp in a wizard's tent somewhere in the wilds." Harry said with a small frown.

That wasn't strictly true. _Harry_ had intended that and been unyieldingly insistent on it. They'd all eventually agreed.

Sirius knew that he should by all rights be the one making these decisions, but he had long since realised that Harry would not hesitate to ditch him and do as he pleased anyway. He had a massive independent streak and any attempt at parenting would only serve to infuriate him. That ship had sailed while Sirius was rotting in Azkaban. Probably for the best – Sirius didn't think he'd do well as a parent, which was why he had renounced his position as Lord Black and let Harry have it, aside from his own distaste for the title that was.

"Oh." Nadia said, looking stunned. Probably at the idea that magicals would willingly rough it. Not that a wizard's tent was exactly 'roughing it'. "Would you join us for dinner at least? Grandfather was most eager to meet you."

Sirius could almost hear his godson thinking of a way to refuse that wouldn't be rude.

"We would be honored." Harry finally said, everyone except Nadia knowing that he was lying through his teeth. "We want to take a look around the shopping district and then find a place to set up the tent first, so we'll meet up with you later. Sirius, do you think you could stay with Ms. Sayegh while we do that?"

Ah, Harry had noticed his interest in the Egyptian witch and was facilitating his efforts to seduce her. Good man.

"It would be my pleasure." Sirius grinned.

XXXXX

 _March 3rd. Cairo, Egypt._

"Kind of reminds me of Diagon Alley." Dora mused when they stepped out of the Ministry building.

Harry had to agree with the sentiment, Egypt's hidden magic district was a lot like Diagon Alley, down to the way it was nestled in between the streets of the country's mundane capital. Not suprising, since the Egyptian Ministry of Magic had also come off as being very similar to the British one. The people were more brown, the signs were in Arabic as well as English and the clothing seemed to lean more towards tan or beige in hue, but other than that, it was closer to the British/European model of magical society than North America's had been.

That was...kind of suspicious actually. He knew that the ICW had come sniffing around here about a quarter of the way through the 18th century, decades in advance of of the mundanes. Given that the local magicals of the time were neither numerous, organised or especially powerful – Egypt having been conquered by Greeks, Romans, Arabs, Turks and several flavors of Islam since its heyday, all of which had eventually reduced the local wizards to a few scattered remnants – they had taken over easily and established a rudimentary magical government that was meant to enforce the Statute of Secrecy.

While that would explain the place having a certain European flavor to its government, it definitely did not explain why it looked as if the surrounding culture had not seeped in over the past two-hundred and fifty years as locally born wizards and witches were trained. Even the notoriously isolationist British purebloods hadn't been able to stop that from happening.

"Let's find ourselves the local equivalent of Flourish and Blott's." He said, wanting to investigate this minor mystery.

"Actually, I'd like to take a look at what kind of plants they're selling around here." Dora admitted. "Mum asked me to get her one of the more tame ones."

"Bookstore is fine with me, but I want to go look at some of the animals too." Luna said.

"And I want to see what kind of tourist locations we can visit. Egypt is supposed to have some good ones." Fleur chimed in.

Harry pursed his lips and aimed a scowl down the street. It seemed safe enough, but he was not feeling entirely comfortable allowing them to scatter like this. Not in this place.

"How about pairing up then?" He suggested. "Fleur with Dora and Luna with me?"

Fleur and Dora looked at each other and nodded with a shrug while Luna simply beamed at him and skipper over to take his hand.

"We'll find you when we're done." Harry said firmly.

" _I am going with Fleur._ " Etal hissed from his collar and quickly jumped ship.

" _Traitor._ " Harry hissed back in amusement.

Etal did the snake equivalent of a raspberry and wiggled deeper into the veela's collar.

"Hah, Etal knows where the fun is." Dora said with a cocky smirk.

"And the beauty." Fleur added with the same expression.

"Yes, yes, you're both fabulous." Harry rolled his eyes and made a shooing gesture. "We'll meet up with you later."

The two women smirked once more and swaggered off with their hands around each other's waists.

"Those two are a bad influence on each other." Harry muttered, looking after his girlfriends and then around the street again with slight worry.

"Harry?" Luna said softly, looking at him questioningly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a bit tense." He replied.

She looked at him with that particular look of absent scrutiny that always made him – and everyone else to be fair– think that she knew something. Harry still wasn't sure if she actually did or if it was just that kind of look.

"Are you being prejudiced again?"

And there was the cause of the uncertainty. Quite a lot of the time, she really was unerringly on point.

"Yup." Harry admitted with a nod.

Egypt was an Islamic country and Harry despised Islam just like he despised Christianity – they were basically the same thing after all – but Islam had not undergone the same reformation that Christianity had and religion still had its slimy tentacles wrapped around every facet of people's lives in Islamic countries.

Because of this, he saw all Muslims as potential enemies – people that couldn't be reasoned with. Yes, it was painting them all with the same brush, but he didn't care. He didn't care to know them or speak to them, not until they renounced their idiotic delusions, at which point they would no longer be Muslims by definition, so his reasoning neatly looped upon itself and spared him from having to make exceptions. He imagined that wizards in Medieval Europe must have felt the same about Christians. Sure, the guy selling cabbages from a street stall might be pretty harmless and probably a decent person in most respects, but he would cause you a lot of trouble if he learned you were magical.

Harry had even gone so far as to insist on making a blood-linked magical tracking device for each of his girls and for Sirius, which were currently sitting on his left forearm in the form of bracelets. Aside from keeping track of them, the braceletes also pulsed in time with their hearts, acting as a crude indicator of danger. He knew that they thought he was being overly paranoid and Harry would admit that it was probably true. After all, it wasn't like they had any reason or intention of interacting with the mundane population – had gone to considerable lengths to avoid such a thing in fact – but anything that reduced his stress levels was to the good. The feeling of being surrounded by potential threats combined with his derision for the local religion and culture was not the best of combinations and everyone was better off if he avoided the spiteful temptation to curse people. The occasional passing priest or street preacher in London was one thing, but Cairo was a bit too much of a target rich environment.

"Okay." Luna said easily.

"Have I told you recently that I love you?" Harry asked fondly, pulling the petite blonde into a hug as they walked. Fleur and Dora would at the very least have been exasperated with him in this situation, but Luna was so completely unjudgemental that you really could tell her anything and receive no condemnation.

"Not verbally." She replied happily, snuggling into his side and sending a wave of affection at him with her aura. "I love you too, Harry."

Harry returned the magical pseudo-hug as well as briefly tightened his arm around her.

"Do you think Sirius will manage to seduce Nadia?" Luna asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

"Hard to say, she wasn't some giggly idiot but I could tell that she wasn't completely unreceptive either." Harry said after a moment's consideration and then frowned. "He'd better not forget to mention that he's only out for a shag though. I don't need him causing me diplomatic headaches." He did still need to discuss the legal particulars of extending his business to Egypt after all and having their government contact pissed at his godfather wouldn't make that any easier.

The rest of their walk down the magical shopping district only further reinforced the similarities it had to Diagon Alley. Robe shops, apothecary, quidditch store, potions paraphilia,…..the only significant difference that Harry had noted so far was that Egypt's Ministry of Magic had its visitors entrance in the alley instead of somewhere else. Even accounting for the fact that there was only so much variation a shopping district can have, there was something decidedly European about the whole thing.

The bookstore was perhaps the most blatant about it. The design was very similar to Flourish and Blott's, but it was the books themselves that were the oddity. Quite a lot of them were in English, French, German and a few other European languages. In fact, if Harry had to guess, less than half of them were in Arabic.

"Curiuoser and curiouser." He murmured as he browsed the shelves.

"May I help you?" The voice of the shopkeeper, and perhaps owner, came from behind him, also in English.

"Yes, actually." Harry turned around and said with a small smile. "I would like to purchase all the books on the local magical history and law." He'd have taken a few spellbooks too, but there was nothing here that he hadn't already seen in Britain.

"All of them?" The old man blinked.

"All of them," Harry nodded firmly. "in both English and Arabic if possible."

The language spells that he had made such good use of back in Britain did not allow one to learn the written form of a language. Fortunately, once you knew the spoken form it was just a matter of learning the alphabet and doing some reading to get the hang of it. You wouldn't win any awards for grammar when trying to write in it, but you could read it just fine.

The old shopkeeper spent only a moment more looking surprised, then his eyes acquired an avaricious gleam.

"Right this way." He said happily.

"I'd like a good book on the local magical creatures." Luna spoke up.

"Of course, young lady."

XXXXX

 _Match 5th._

"Harry, you've been reading those books for ages already!" Dora's voice was not _quite_ a whine. It was damn close though. "Let's go do something."

"I must agree with Nymmie." Fleur added her own two cents. "Those books will not be going anywhere."

"To be fair, the pyramids won't be going anywhere either." Luna pointed out reasonably. "But I would like to go see them today."

"Just one more thing…." Harry said absently, underlining a bit of text in the book of Egyptian magical law and then writing something down in a handy notebook.

"What could _possibly_ be so fascinating about Magical Egypt's laws that you've had your nose buried in there so long?" Dora asked in utter exasperation and continued sarcastically. "Compensating for all the laws you're breaking back home?"

"Oh, the laws themselves are about as interesting as watching paint dry." Harry chuckled, closing the book. "But I did learn quite a few interesting things based on what _isn't_ written."

"Such as?" Fleur asked with an archly raised eyebrow.

"That Egypt doesn't have any muggleborns apparently."

"That's impossible." Dora said flatly after a moment of stunned silence.

"Quite." Harry agreed. "But the fact remains that there are no provisions made in any of the laws for muggleborn children or their parents, nor are there any mentions of either purebloods or muggleborns in the history books. As far as Magical Egypt is concerned, there are only witches and wizards."

"That's…weird." The metamorph said slowly.

"Is that why you gave that boy that was being fostered with the Sayeghs such a strange look?" Luna asked shrewdly.

The dinner invitation that he hadn't been able to refuse without knowing how important Nadia Sayegh's grandfather was had been a typical high class affair; very stuffy and dull. The old man had clearly been looking to make connections, which was both tedious and predictable. Despite his irritation, Harry was prepared to say that it had been worth it, simply for the opportunity to see the six-year-old boy that Nadia's older brother was fostering.

"Yes." Harry nodded. "In fact, I might not even have noticed this if not for that."

According to the family's patriarch, the boy's parents had died as a result of some 'muggle violence' and they'd taken him in. It was a familiar ploy to Harry, take in some unfortunate kid to show how noble and virtuous you are. He would have dismissed it as the typical aristocratic feigned kindness if not for the lie he had sensed.

"The reason why they don't have any muggleborns is because they obliviate the shit out of the parents and take away any magical children as soon as they detect them. After that it's easy to just put them up for adoption."

"What?" Dora demanded, looking angry.

"I don't have any solid proof of course, but I don't think I'm wrong." Harry went on as if she hadn't spoken.

"Why would they do that?" Fleur asked pensively.

"Who cares why?" The metamorphmagus fumed. "It's barbaric."

"Actually, the why is very important." Harry argued. "There isn't much else they _could_ do under the circumstances, aside from leaving the children untrained that is."

"Huh?" Dora blinked, caught off guard. "How could stealing children from their parents ever be the right thing to do?"

"You have to factor in where we are. The vast majority of the mundane population around these parts belongs to a backwards, belligerent, magic-hating religion. According to this" He held up the history book. "wizards here have had trouble over this before. The book only mentions a serious breach in the Statute of Secrecy in the early 18th century and doesn't say anything about the cause, but I'd bet half the gold in my vaults that it was because the government tried to adopt the same system for dealing with muggleborns as Britain currently uses."

"Only half?" Dora quipped.

"Only an idiot bets everything he has all at once, even on a sure thing." Harry quipped back. "Anyway, they probably learned quick that they had to be a lot more draconian with the secret of magic than Europe. Normally I'd say that was dumb, but in this case I can only applaud them for keeping that poison out. That must also be why Magical Egypt feels so damn European; they're taking in the bare minimum that they can get away with from the surrounding culture, which has allowed the original European influence to linger a lot longer than it should have. Come to think of it, that would also explain why Magical Britain feels like it was still trying to escape the Victorian era– they must have been doing the same thing until relatively recently. At first I thought that the muggleborn issue only became an issue in the past century or so because before then the mundane world was by and large a shithole unless you were rich. It's probably still a factor, but now I'm inclined to think that the modern muggleborn – that being a magical child raised by mundane parents in mundane culture – is actually a recent phenomenon."

"That makes a lot of sense." Luna said.

"Thank you." Harry smiled at her.

"So…I guess we're not going anything about the child snatching?" Dora sighed after a few seconds.

"Nope!" Harry answered cheerfully, putting the books aside and getting up. "Even if we wanted to, it's all perfectly legal and I don't fancy staging an ill-considered revolution. Now, you said you wanted to go see the pyramids?"

That the mundane government wouldn't see it that way went unsaid, as did Harry's disregard for the thoughts and feelings of the religious.

"It doesn't feel right, just ignoring it." The metamorph grumbled.

"Don't think about it too much. Those kids are probably better off anyway, at least they won't grow up being slaves." He said blithely.

"Slaves?" Both Fleur and Dora echoed in surprise.

"Yes, slaves. 'Muslim' literally means 'a person who submits'; ergo, slaves. I guess I can at least give Islam props for being honest about what it is; slavery. All religion is slavery really, you just can't see the chains."

Fleur and Dora both rolled their eyes mightily, nodded to each other and grabbed one arm each.

"Hell no. If you think we're listening to another one of your rants on religion, you've got another thing coming." Dora said snarkily.

" _Oui_." Fleur nodded firmly in agreement. "We are not debating ideology today. Today, we are having fun."

"I wonder if we'll see any skeletons." Luna giggled and skipped after them.

"I wasn't ranting." Harry asserted with dignity, receiving disbelieving snorts in return.

Alright, so maybe he had been ranting a little.

XXXXX

 _March 7th._

Harry put his arm down and watched as the skeleton collapsed, sighing in boredom.

There was no getting around it, Egypt was boring as shit.

Oh, there were plenty of tombs that were unknown to the mundane population. Not the giant pyramid types that were rather conspicuous, but smaller ones, some of them so small that they were little more than a doorway into an underground complex. Ancient Egypt's wizards had apparently gone for hidden more than ostentatious, though there were also a few smaller pyramids that the ICW had made vanish from the eyes of the mundane population centuries ago.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the goblins had already cleared out the vast majority of them. Then to add further insult to whole thing, some clever wizard had thought that turning the emptied tombs into some sort of theme park/tourist attraction would be a good idea. That was why there were now poorly animated skeletons walking around in them, some of them with extra limbs or skulls, designed to scare anyone that decided to explore the tombs. The lazy fucks could have at least put in the effort to animate a mummy, at least that would have fit the theme.

He recalled how excited Ginny had been about her trip here and felt like snorting. Either nobody had told her that all the excitement was staged or she'd still been impressed in spite of that. He wasn't sure which was worse.

"You know, this reminds me of a joke I came across a while back." Sirius said as he looked at some hieroglypgics.

"What kind of joke?" Luna asked curiously.

"About how Egypt is the same as the internet; everyone writes on walls and worships cats."

"Either you're as bored as I am, or your sense of humor took a dive." Harry snorted. "That joke is old as shit."

"I do not get it." Fleur admitted.

"You're not missing out on much." Dora said with a roll of her eyes.

"This sucks." Harry declared with a sigh after a few moments.

"But not as much as Fleur's grandmother, right?" Sirius snickered.

Then he yelped as his cousin fired a Stinging Hex at his arse.

"Don't be so crass." The metamorphmagus scolded.

"He's right though, Aurélie could suck cement through a straw." Harry said with a smirk, quickly deflecting the retaliatory hex sent at him.

"And you! Don't encourage him." She scolded some more.

"Too late, I'm already encouraged." Sirius grinned, making Dora huff in exasperation.

"Oh leave the boys alone, Nymmie." Fleur said teasingly. "My grandmother would take that as a compliment."

"Ugh, veela."

"Nymphadora, are you upset that you didn't get a blowjob from Aurélie?" Luna asked, cocking her head sideways curiously.

"No." The metamorph ground out.

"She would be glad to oblige if that is the case." Fleur assured, gleefully jumping on the opportunity provided by Luna. "A veela's sexual appetite is even greater during pregnancy."

"I do not want a blowjob from your grandmother, Fleur!" Dora shouted, her words booming through the tomb and no doubt drawing the attention of the other skeletons.

"Sounds like you guys are having fun." Sirius sighed fondly as his cousin fumed and everyone else snickered.

"We are." Luna said cheerfully. "My favorite is the buttfuck train."

"The what?" Sirius blinked.

"Luna!" Dora hissed warningly, and was ignored.

"Oh, that's when I stick a vibrating dildo up my fanny, Nymphadora grows a futa penis or uses a vibrating double-ended dildo and fucks my bum with it, then Fleur puts her own vibrating double-ended dildo in her fanny and fucks Nymphadora's bum with it and Harry dictates the pace with his penis up Fleur's bum. It's great fun and we switch things around sometimes to spice it up, although Harry is being really selfish by not letting anyone else take the conductor position."

"Damn." Sirius said, much impressed. "That _does_ sound like fun. I'd be jealous if I wasn't such a love machine myself."

"Envious. And yes I can see what a love machine you are, clearly you can suck your own cock like a master."

"Fuck you, Harry."

"Rejected."

"I hate you all so much." Dora snarked. "If it wasn't for you, I would still be a respected auror. Instead, I'm unemployed and having my perverse sex life bandied about in this dank tomb, but that I could forgive. What I can't forgive is that you're all so immature that _I_ have to be the responsible one."

"Look on the bright side, _Nymmie_." Harry smirked widely at her sour expression and prepared to cast a Ray of Nipple Hardening at his oldest girlfriend's breasts. "At least you're having fun."

Dora yelped and groped at her chest when a sudden blast of frigid air enveloped her nipples. She glared at the most likely culprit and launched herself at him, sending him running into the depths of the tomb with a laugh.

"Wait, I want to play too!" Luna called, running after them with a giggle, followed closely by Fleur.

"Ah, young love." Sirius sighed again. "Or at least young lust, which is even better really."

The sound of a blasting curse reached his ears and the dog animagus figured that they must have found another skeleton.

XXXXX

 _March 11th._

"Harry, I know that Egypt has been a disappointment to you and that you're bored, but how is trudging through the desert fun?" Sirius griped.

"We're not doing this for fun, we're looking for something." Harry replied.

"What would that be?" Fleur asked. While she was certainly enjoying the bright sunshine, all this sand was rather ruining it for her.

"Etal detected a big magical cat earlier."

There was a moment of stunned silence as they processed that.

"A nundu is a big magical cat." Luna said happily.

"A nundu is also a nearly unstoppable killing machine." Dora felt the need to point out, very much hoping that Harry did not have any crazy plans of seeking one out.

"Pfft, bullshit." Harry scoffed. "Sure, it's insanely magic resistant, but it can't fly, so all you'd need to do is sit on a broom or flying carpet and bombard it with conjured iron spikes or something. The diseased breath might be a problem, but nothing that can't be worked around easily enough. Nundus usually show up in eastern Africa anyway, and even that's pretty rare, so we aren't likely to run into one."

"So just to be clear, we _aren't_ going after a nundu?" Sirius had to ask.

"No, we're looking for a sphinx. I'm hoping to figure out what the deal was with the cryptic hints the last one I met threw at me."

"Sphinxes have a nasty habit of mauling people that get their riddles wrong." Dora noted dryly.

"Well then we'd better not get any riddles wrong."

It was another twenty minutes of walking later that Etal spoke up.

" _Over there!_ " He hissed, pointing at what could have just as easily been another patch of sand.

"Alright, let's go say hello." Harry said cheerfully, genuinely glad that this otherwise crappy vacation was finally yielding results.

The sphinx had appeared asleep when seen from a distance, but she became aware of them quickly and awaited their arrival with perfect calm.

"Good day." Harry greeted casually.

"Greetings, Spellweaver." She replied in the gravely tone of her species.

Harry's brows furrowed at the way she addressed him. "You aren't the same sphinx I met in Scotland." He stated. The face wasn't the same as he remembered and the chances of such a thing happening were remote in the extreme anyway. That meant that the first one had either been telling tales or that 'spellweaver' was a title that any sphinx would give him.

"Do you seek to be ordained?" She asked, ignoring his statement.

"Ordained as what?" Harry blinked, baffled.

"A priest of Ra. That is your purpose in seeking me out, is it not?"

Harry blinked again, wondering if he should point out that the Ancient Egyptian pantheon was nothing but a dusty memory.

Sirius seemed like he was about to say something and Harry waved at him to stay quiet, thinking.

There was simply no way that the sphinx could be oblivious to the knowledge that Ra's priesthood had been defunct for ages, which meant that something fishy was going on.

"Yes, let's go with that." He said cautiously.

The sphinx nodded her massive head. "Very well. I will await your arrival south-west of Pharaoh Djoser's pyramid."

"When?" Harry asked.

"I will await your arrival." The sphinx repeated, got up and ran off without another word.

"That's one dedicated girl." Sirius said, amused. "I hope you realise that this is probably a trap."

"It does seem that way, doesn't it?" Harry agreed. "The only problem is that I can't figure out any kind of motive that a bunch of sphinxes might have to set a trap for me. More to the point, they couldn't have planned for when or even _if_ I'd seek one of them out. No, this has the feel of opportunism."

"I don't like it." Dora said with a frown. "We have no idea what we'd be walking into if we go along with this."

"She didn't insist on Harry going alone." Fleur pointed out. "With the five of us all there, we should be able to handle anything."

She didn't say that she was just as curious as Harry. She had considered going into the curse-breaking profession at one point after all and this sounded like it would be interesting.

"That could just mean that the trouble is too much even for all five of us." Dora argued, deliberately channeling her mentor's paranoia.

"I don't think she meant us any harm." Luna weighed in.

"It's the first piece of Ancient Egypt we've been able to find that hasn't already been looted by someone else." Harry said. "I want to see what the deal is."

"An adventure, eh?" Sirius grinned. "I'm game."

Dora looked at everyone's faces and sighed. She was clearly the only one that thought it might be better to leave well enough alone. That being said, she couldn't deny being curious herself.

"Fine, but we go in there loaded for bear." She said.

"I don't think we're going to find any bears." Luna said doubtfully.

"That's not…." Dora began in exasperation, only to trail off into a sigh at the snickering coming from Harry, Sirius and Fleur.

"You guys suck."

XXXXX

 _March 12th._

The area that Etal's forked tongue led them to was barren desert of a slightly more rocky persuasion than what people imagined when they thought of the Sahara, though there was no shortage of sand either. The sphinx hadn't been very specific about the meeting location, particularly not about how far south-west of Djoser's pyramid they were supposed to go. Quite far as it turned out, far enough that walking was out of the question, not that anyone really fancied a walk through the desert anyway. Fortunately, they were prepared and had brooms.

Their quarry was waiting for them with a look of endless patience and merely bid them to follow once they arrived.

The walk to their destination was short, the destination itself being a small and utterly unremarkable pile of sand and rocks the likes of which was ubiquitous around here.

Well, unremarkable for most.

"What's this supposed to be?" Dora asked, looking around in bewilderment.

Harry looked at her oddly. "You mean you can't see the door?" It was a rather big door.

"What door?" Sirius and Fleur said in unison.

"I don't see it either." Luna said.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to explain why I'm the only one that can see it?" Harry asked of the sphinx. He did have a few guesses, but they were just guesses.

"Ra illuminates the path for his chosen." The sphinx said simply.

"Huh." Harry said. That was impressively straightforward for a sphinx. The doorway was clearly hidden by some contrivance of magic that only the Sun's Light could pierce, but a more concentrated version than what could be found in regular sunlight. That Fleur couldn't see the door was a bit odd….or it could be that Harry was the oddity. He _did_ have two _Sol_ runes carved into his temples after all.

With a minor exertion of will, he concentrated the Sun's blazing magic into a globe in his hand and used it like a flashlight.

"Ah, that door." Sirius said as it became visible and the heavy stone plate blocking the entrance sank into the ground.

"Shall we?" Harry said with a grin, eager to see what was down there.

That got him a murmur of agreement from all except one member of their party.

" _I am not going down there._ " Etal hissed a tad petulantly, staring suspiciously into the darkness.

" _Are you certain?_ " Harry hissed back, trying not to sound too amused. The quetzalcoatl hated being underground with a passion.

" _Yes._ " Etal sniffed. " _I will go take a look at the jungles to the south and meet you later._ "

" _Alright, good hunting._ "

The entrance was big enough even for the sphinx to pass without issue and was positively roomy for the rest of them.

"So, this wouldn't happen to be Imhotep's tomb, would it?" Harry asked casually, knowing that the Ancient Egyptian's tomb had never been found by either magicals or mundanes. "I was told that it was Pharaoh Djoser who commanded the creation of the sphinxes and Imhotep was his chief advisor, the High Priest of Ra and a bunch of other things, including a sorcerer."

"Yes, Imhotep rests here." The sphinx answered, showing no surprise at his guess.

"Like in that film we watched last month?" Luna asked with a smile.

"Not exactly." Harry replied absently, peering at the walls for anything of interest. "Aside from the name, the Imhotep in the film didn't really have much of anything in common with the real one. Timeline was all wrong too."

"As long as this tomb isn't crawling with scarabs." Fleur shuddered.

"Scarabs _would_ be pretty cliché." Harry quipped, amused.

"I don't think we have anything to worry about where bugs are concerned, not when Fleur is such a pyro." Dora said wryly.

Said pyro shot a brief glare at the metamorphmagus before turning her nose up with a snooty huff.

"I just remembered something." Sirius said grimly, making everyone look a bit concerned at his tone.

"What?"

"The first people to open the ancient tomb always die." The dog animagus snickered at their flat looks.

"Well I'm sure Brendan Fraser will show up to save the day in case we release some ancient evil." Harry snarked, mildly pissed at the fact that his godfather had gotten one over on him.

"Hate to break it to you, Harry, but Brendan Fraser had a run in with a soul-sucking demon a few years ago and isn't in any shape to be saving anything." Dora said gravely.

"Dementor?" Harry asked, deeply skeptical that one of those would be anywhere near Hollywood.

"Worse, ex-wife."

"Ah."

The conversation petered out then and they focused on staying alert. The walls were featureless and did not branch to the sides. For all intents and purposes, it was a perfectly straight tunnel. Still, they continued scanning for possible traps or curses, even though it was beginning to seem like there wouldn't be any. The sphinx accommodated their slow pace without comment.

The slight downward incline eventually leveled out and a minute after that they entered what had to be the burial chamber. It was a considerably large, but mostly featureless, room that had four large columns supporting it. The only thing of real note in it were the hierogylphics inscribed on the columns and the sarcophagus sitting on a raised dais between them.

"Huh, for some reason I was expecting piles of gold." Dora said, scratching at her cheek as she looked around the dusty room.

Harry wasn't going to admit it, but so had he. The only thing piled around the corners was sand and dust.

"Imhotep's wealth was not in gold." The sphinx said, plopping herself into the typical catlike resting position nearby.

"What do these say?" Sirius asked, peering at the hieroglyphics as if they would yield their secrets simply due to his stare.

"It's a biography, I think." Harry said, frowning as he looked over the symbols. He might have magically cheated his way into being able to speak Ancient Egyptian, but reading it was another story.

For one thing, the language was _old_ and had gone through a great deal of change. For another, it had hundreds of symbols and combined logographic, syllabic and alphabetic elements. Even if his memory was very close to eidetic when really applying Occlumency to enhance recall, that was a tough proposition when working purely from memory. If the rather dull vacation so far had been good for anything though, it had been good practice for reading the hieroglyphics.

"What does it say?" Luna asked curiously.

"This part in particular seems to be talking about his job as the 'Maker of Vases in Chief'." Harry said, bemused.

"Really?" Sirius snickered before abruptly sobering up. "Wait, you know what this means, don't you?"

"What?" Harry asked, certain that it was going to be stupid.

"Imhotep…was a potter!" Sirius declared triumphantly.

There was dead silence for a minute before Harry, Fleur and Dora jeered at him for the terrible joke. Luna just giggled.

"Hey, there's writing on the sarcophagus too." Dora said once they were done haranguing Sirius for his atrocious sense of humor, using her hands to wipe the dust from the lid.

"Let me see." Harry said, moving over eagerly.

"It's an epitath of some kind, like you'd find on a tombstone." He said absently, wiping off the remaining dust.

"Anything interesting?" Fleur asked.

"Well it's written in first person, so he must have made it himself." Harry said, not taking his eyes off the writing. "His name, a long list of titles, including Maker of Vases in Chief of course, and…..huh."

"What?" Everyone asked, leaning closer.

Instead of trying to explain, Harry began reading out loud, his pace halting and slow as he stumbled through the translation. "'Long have I served the Pharaohs and protected Egypt from the vampire in the shadow and the succubus under the sky. I was ready to pass on my duty when the Assyrian demon-sorceress, Sar-Sarat, daughter of Li-Lit, attacked with her army of bewitched slaves.'"

"Sounds like one of your great aunts was causing a ruckus, Fleur." Dora noted with amusement.

"Yes, quite." Fleur agreed in a droll tone.

"There's more." Harry said, cutting off the banter as he continued to read. "'The war was long and the price of victory steep. My sons and students were no match for Sar-Sarat's fell magics and were turned against me. I could not save them and now I am left with no one to take my place. I am old and tired, I wish to rest, but I will not allow Egypt to fall to invaders, demons or monsters. Not now, not ever.'"

As soon as he read the last word, Harry felt a pulse of magic ripple from the sarcophagus. Judging by the wide-eyed looks Dora, Fleur and Luna were sporting, they'd felt it too. It was strong.

"Uh-oh." He said and slowly backed away from the stone casket.

"What do you mean 'uh-oh'?" Sirius demanded, looking between the four of them. He was the only one not sufficiently attuned to sense it.

"The inscription was like that stupid poem Gringott's has on their front door." Harry said with a scowl as he continued backing off. "It triggered a spell of some kind as soon as I read it."

It was a crafty bit of magic that duped the reader into powering whichever spell was worked into the text, which made it damn near undetectable unless you were specifically looking for it.

"Is this why you brought me here?" He demanded of the sphinx.

"The high priest of the temple inducts new priests." The sphinx replied in the evasive language of someone dancing around a magical compulsion.

Harry wanted ask something else, but a grind of stone on stone drew his attention to the sarcophagus.

The lid shifted and skeletal fingers covered in dry, leathery skin gripped the edge.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me." Harry stated in flat disbelief.

The others said nothing as they watched the mummy push the heavy stone lid aside and climb out of the sarcophagus.

It was fairly typical in appearance as far as mummies went; skeletal, bandaged, leathery skin that crinkled like parchment with every motion.

Four things set it apart from other mummies, except for the obvious ability to move. First was the tall staff topped with a faceted crystal that it carried. The second was a thick book that hung from its waist on a chain. Third were the eldritch blue fires that burned in its empty eye sockets. The last and most important was the sense of powerful magic around it. Very powerful, and filled with a terrible sense of relentless purpose.

Under different circumstances, Harry would actually be rather excited to encounter a genuine lich.

As it was, he had only a moment to wonder at the extreme unlikeliness that this wasn't going to devolve into violence before the lich opened its tongueless mouth in a sepulchral scream that was more magic than sound and slammed the butt of its staff against the ground, letting out another pulse of magic.

Something shifted with the grind of stone on stone. Above them, sunlight broke through the roof of the burial chamber to shine on the undead wizard and to the sides, a secret door opened, from which rows of stone golems started marching out with clear violence in their purpose.

"Start blasting them." Harry ordered, throwing a blasting curse at the golems, but never taking his eyes off the lich.

Good thing too, as it pointed a finger at him with a clear command and the thus far eerily motionless sphinx launched itself at him without hesitation.

Fortunately, Harry had accounted for the possibility that the sphinx would become hostile during this little adventure, so he did not panic and did not attempt to use a spell to break through its magic resistance. Instead, he drew Blackrazor from where it sat on his belt and hurled it towards the charging sphinx in the same motion.

It was a terrible throw all things considered, hasty and poorly aimed. It would have probably done no more than minor damage, if it did any at all, had it been a normal knife.

Seeing as Blackrazor was cursed up the wazoo, it almost seemed to seek out its target and the hatred imbued into it made it lethal far beyond its unassuming size. The sphinx was hit in the directly chest as it leaped towards him and began convulsing immediately.

That didn't do anything for its momentum unfortunately, and Harry found himself the victim of physics as just shy of half a ton of dying pseudo-lion hurtled towards him. He didn't quite manage to dodge it.

 _I'm so happy that I put about three dozen cushioning charms on my clothes._ Harry thought inanely as the heavy corpse clipped him and sent him stumbling to the ground from the force of it. It made him feel like he had a whole department store worth of pillows stuffed under his coat, minus the actual volume, but he hadn't wanted a repeat of Ahiga dislocating his shoulder with a glancing blow. It had no doubt saved his life just now.

"Harry!" Sirius yelled over the sound of stone being blasted apart. "Are you alright?"

Harry nodded and quickly climbed back on his feet, taking a moment to glance at the girls as he did so. They seemed to be handling the golems easily. Dora and Fleur were destroying them with carefully aimed blasting curses while Luna kept up a shield to defend against shrapnel. Clearly the things hadn't been made to fight this kind of battle and weren't doing well.

"What the….?" He trailed off as he saw what the lich was doing.

It was holding its staff in the air and somehow sucking in the sunlight streaming from the roof as if the crystal topping it was a black hole.

"Oh shit." He said softly and rushed over so that he was standing between the lich and the girls. "Sirius, watch my back!"

"You got it!" The dog animagus shouted back and positioned himself so that none of the golems could get him in the back.

Harry turned all his focus inward and started weaving a shielding spell that would, hopefully, protect them all from what was coming. He didn't know exactly what it would be, but he knew Light magic when he saw it. With that in mind, he crafted his shielding spell out of the same element, banking on like repelling like.

He cast the spell as soon as he was sure that he had it done just right and a nearly opaque golden shield appeared in front of him.

Less than two seconds later, a radiant beam of concentrated sunlight blazed from Imhotep's staff. It struck the shield at an angle and was deflected sideways, creating a trench of melted rock in the wall.

"What the fuck?!" Sirius squawked in shock.

Harry knew that he couldn't let the lich get off any more crazy ass spells. That beam had nearly busted through his shield and he might not recognise the next trick. It was a good thing that there was one surefire way of messing up a wizard's spellcasting ability. He would definitely be getting an earful for it later, but he'd take that over death.

With a thought, he called up the now fully controlled wolf spirit and felt his body ripple with animalistic power. He couldn't go too far into the change due to his clothes and boots, but it would be enough to more than double his strength.

The rush of animal savagery in his mind was familiar and Harry threw himself at the lich with a roar.

"Harry, no!" Several voices shouted, but he ignored them. He had to get in close.

That part at least was easy. The lich's spells might be powerful, but they weren't fast. Harry was upon him in moments and grabbed at the staff, wrenching it furiously from the bony fingers and throwing it across the room.

That threat dealt with, he grabbed at the skeletally thin wrists, noting with distant shock that the lich was actually much, _much_ stronger than it looked, nearly as strong as him.

The ontological pressure of the undead wizard's mind, soul and magic was immense and terrible in its sheer otherness. Millenia of lichdom had robbed Imhotep of all humanity, leaving only the relentless will of the undead.

Imhotep's magic swirled with purpose and Harry rammed his own will into the unfinished mental construct with a snarl, disrupting the unfinished spell.

A distant sense of frustration rippled through the opposing aura and Harry's snarl twisted into a grin. He had the advantage now. Magic was no good at this range, but there was more than one way to skin a cat, as the rather morbid saying went.

With a jerk, he pulled Imhotep's right arm forward and prepared to shatter it. He had no idea what it would take to kill a lich, but pulverizing his skeleton into tiny bits sounded like a good start.

His arm came down on the elbow with shattering force…and stopped as if he'd struck a steel rod, the shock traveling painfully up his own arm as the impetus was abruptly halted.

His surprise cost him dearly as the lich pulled its arm out of his hold with even more strength than it had showed before, unbalancing him. In the same motion, the other arm slashed upwards with sharp, bony fingers.

He grunted in pain and reared back as the skeletal digits raked the left side of his face like claws. It hurt more than it should. Malice lingered in the newly made cuts as if it had been a spell that had made them. That thought was all he had time for before the lich shoved him in the chest with a strength more commonly found in trolls.

The multitude of cushioning charms once again absorbed the force, but he was still sent flying. The back-first impact against one of the pillars was likewise absorbed harmlessly, but there was no Cushioning Charm protecting his head when it snapped back and crashed into the stone.

It took Harry a precious few seconds to overcome the fierce ringing in his ears so that he could see what was going on.

Imhotep was preparing another spell, this one looking like some kind of contained windstorm if the howling sound was any indication, and Sirius was standing between the lich and Harry himself, throwing out spells and insults in equal measure, both of which were ignored.

"Sirius, no!" Harry shouted as he struggled back to his feet, knowing that his godfather didn't stand a ghost of a chance. Aside from the raw power disparity, there was something else going on here. There was simply no way that the lich should be that durable.

"Get him out of here!" Sirius bellowed back without turning around.

"Come on, Harry, time to go." Dora said grimly a moment later, already pulling him away.

Harry might have ignored her and gone to re-engage the lich despite the concussion currently fogging his brain, but it was a moot point. Imhotep had had enough time to complete his spell and release it.

It was indeed a contained windstorm just as Harry had guessed, but as soon as it was released it also sucked in a large amount of sand from nearby. Sirius had put up a shield, but he might as well have not bothered for all the good it did. The miniature sandstorm howled through it and hit Sirius dead on, it turned red and then bloodstained sand was thrown all across the burial chamber. Of Sirius there was no sign, not even bones. Around his left forearm, Harry felt the bracelet linked to his godfather's life break.

Imhotep's aura radiated a brief sense of grim satisfaction before it settled back into deadness. The lich extended a hand and his staff sailed back into it.

"Come on!" Dora repeated with a growl and roughly pulled him towards the entrance. "Transfigure the floor and put up walls!" She bellowed at Fleur and Luna as they retreated.

Harry forced himself to focus and helped turn the floor in a thick and deep mud pit as they ran back through the tunnel.

"Stop here." Harry said once they reached the incline that led outside.

"That thing is still after us." Dora barked, sounding very much like the auror she used to be. Her hair was very short and her figure distinctly unfeminine, all the better for combat.

"I know, but he's having trouble with the transfigurations, I can sense it." Harry replied.

"Fine, let me take a look at your face then." She said after a moment.

Harry nodded and let her examine him.

"It got you pretty good, you're lucky you didn't lose an eye." The metamorph commented in a forced light tone as she cast a few charms to clean his face of blood and sand. Harry absently noted that Dora was probably trained to push aside shock until the danger was over. Luna and Fleur looked much more rattled, each in their own way. "We'll need to put some Essence of Murtlap on that."

"Here." Luna said quietly, holding up the item in question.

"Thanks. Close your eyes and hold still, Harry."

He did so, feeling the cuts burn as the cold, slimy substance was applied, but the pain soon passed.

"Looks like you'll be a bit prettier from now on, lover." Dora said with a wince just as he opened his eyes.

Harry ran his fingers over the left side of his face, feeling the four parallel scars running across it. They went all the way from his jawline, up his cheeks and terminating at the level of his eyebrow. Dora was right, he _was_ lucky that he still had his left eye. That was probably due to the fact that Imhotep was fairly short more than anything else.

He wasn't surprised that the scars hadn't healed, not when he could still feel traces of Imhotep's magic on his face. They were faint and getting fainter, but they were still there.

Harry shook his head to indicate that it wasn't important, wincing when his skull reminded him that he had a concussion. He rooted around his potions satchel for a healing potion that was designed specifically for head wounds and chugged it as soon as he found it, sighing in relief when his mind cleared.

His thoughts drifted back to the lich that he could even now sense was working to overcome the obstacles they'd put in his path. Imhotep's magic was powerful and tightly controlled, much like Harry's own.

 _He's like me, a spellweaver according to the sphinxes. Was that meant to be a hint? Why would they bring me here to wake him up? He made them, so they could be compelled to do it, but why only now? Imhotep lived in the 27th century BC, there had to have been other wizards capable of opening the door before me. I'm missing something._

"Why is he so slow?" Luna asked quietly, staring into the dark tunnel that led back to the burial chamber.

"I think the modern spells have him a bit stumped." Harry theorised. "Those golems were no match for you, but they would have been the death of any wizard that couldn't cast as quickly, and I know that transfiguration was only really developed as a true magical discipline around the time that Hogwarts was built. Imhotep's time was millennia before that."

"It didn't seem to be too stumped by Sirius' spells." Fleur said, grimacing immediately at her own tactlessness. "Sorry."

 _Sirius was dead._ Harry wondered at how little he felt over it. _All things must die._

He decided to consider that later and simply nodded at her, pushing forward. "I think we're dealing with something very much like a Horcrux here."

"What?!" Dora gaped.

"It's a mummy." Harry said. "There is no way that it should be capable of hosting a wizard's soul and magic. There is no way that it should be able to move without any muscles or organs. There is no way that it should be completely impervious to damage. The only way any of that is possible is if the soul is shackled to the bones, which would allow Imhotep to move through force of will alone, as well as conferring the indestructible nature of the soul to the bones."

It was also supported by his observations on Voldemort's Horcruxes. The diary had been able to act when written in it, as was its purpose. The locket had been able to act when opened, as was its purpose. Imhotep's body functioned as a vessel for the soul, as was its purpose.

"Well that's just fucking great." Dora snarled, throwing her hands into the air. "So you're telling me that we woke up an invincible super wizard, is that what you're saying?"

"Fiendfyre." Harry said simply.

"Fiendfyre?" Dora repeated slowly a few seconds later.

"It's the only spell I know that will destroy the magic holding him together." Oh, he desperately wanted Imhotep's staff and the book hanging from his waist, which he suspected to be the ancient sorcerer's grimoire, but he wanted to live even more.

"Can you control it?"

"Yes." Provided his attention didn't stray.

"….alright, let's go outside then."

"I'm afraid we can't do that." Harry sighed.

"Why the hell not?" Dora demanded.

"Fiendfyre is a spell of Dark, Imhotep is a Sun-sorcerer. You saw what he was able to do with just a little bit of sunlight. I'd rather not find out what he can do in the full light of day."

"But casting Fiendfyre in an enclosed space is as good as suicide!"

That was true. Fiendfyre did not behave like normal fire. It required no fuel and let off no smoke. It also had a ravenous appetite for magic and would pursue it like a living thing. This meant that the caster was most often its first victim. A sufficiently strong-willed wizard could keep it at bay, but truly controlling it was impossible, which was why casting it indoors was tantamount to suicide. Unfortunately, their other options weren't much better.

"Not if we-" Harry cut himself off, head snapping back down the tunnel. "He's breaking through. Move it, and spam more transfigurations."

They hurried to do just that, turning the ground into a deep, muddy swamp and putting up more walls as they retreated further towards the entrance.

"Right, as I was saying, it should be fine if we do a Spell Meld." Harry continued.

"Are you absolutely sure?" Dora pressed.

"No, but our only alternatives are to either risk fighting him outside where he will doubtlessly be even more powerful or running away altogether and letting a nearly invulnerable undead wizard with no idea how much the world has changed in the last four and a half thousand or so years run loose in Egypt." Not that he really cared much if Imhotep went on a rampage, but the girls would and someone might connect their sudden flight from the country to it. Then there was the Statute of Secrecy and how it was sure to be destroyed beyond repair if a lich were to take a stroll down the streets of Cairo and begin obliterating what it would probably see as invaders….

"….I hate it when you're right."

Harry quickly ditched his coat and shirt and waited. The girls each made a cut on their palms and his back and pressed the wounds together to initiate a Blood Linking. With practiced ease, he took it further until it was a full Spell Meld.

With their strength added to his own, Harry reached for the Dark and wreathed it in flame, creating Fiendfyre.

Fiendfyre was a surprisingly easy spell to cast, the Dark being more than happy to be coaxed into such a destructive form. Trying to contain it was the hard part, as once it was set loose it would just consume and consume until there was nothing left.

 _So far so good_. Harry thought as he held the spell. It was struggling to break free of his grasp, but the four of them controlled it easily. It would become harder once it was released of course, but it was an encouraging sign.

A foreign presence made itself known to their senses. It 'looked' at their spell with recognition and an odd sense of outrage.

Harry decided to throw out the Fiendfyre before Imhotep had any more time to examine it.

Everything went well at first, the spell roared through the transfigured obstacles with little to no impediment and the four of them were able to keep it from burning the walls for the moment.

The problems began when it got close to Imhotep, as the ancient lich had no intention of going quietly. Harry felt the mental presence challenge them for control of the spell, trying to turn it back on them.

For several excruciating minutes, the spell was stuck between them, trying to escape control all the while and burn all five of them. In the end, Harry's superior understanding of Dark as well as the fact that there were four of them against one of him prevailed.

Unfortunately, the sudden loss of opposition as Imhotep (and his magic) was consumed, caused the Fiendfyre to nearly explode out of control and it took another couple of minutes for them to rein it back in and eventually snuff it out.

"Fucking hell, that was close." Dora gasped, sweating profusely and panting for breath.

"You can say that again." Fleur agreed, somehow still looking gorgeous despite being just as sweaty as the metamorph.

"I don't like that spell." Luna added with the tiniest of frowns. Coming from her, that was quite a severe statement.

"Come on, let's go back to the burial chamber." Harry said quietly.

XXXXX

Harry stared silently at the bloodstain that was the largest remaining sign of his godfather, holding hands with Luna and Dora and wondering if the loss of Sirius was going to hit him later like he'd heard happened sometimes or if he was really so dead inside.

A minute later he quietly sighed and turned away. _Goodbye, Sirius. We weren't as close as we probably should have been…. I know I'm crap at opening up to people and I know I've kept you out of the loop, but I was sure you'd see that I was up to something and confront me about it. Looking back, I wonder if you didn't_ want _to see what I've been doing, what I've become. I think a large part of you died with my parents, so I have a feeling that dying to save my life was something you would have wanted. I don't know if I'll be able to mourn you, but I will miss you._

Harry walked over to the sarcophagus curious to see if there was anything else in there or if this entire venture had been completely pointless.

As it turned out, there _was_ something else in the sarcophagus. A single papyrus scroll lay inside, neatly rolled up and glowing to his sight with a strong, but very old, preservation spell.

"What is that?" Fleur asked as he unrolled it.

Harry skimmed over the contents and grimaced slightly.

"Instructions on how to turn yourself into a lich." He answered, rolling the scroll back up.

Imhotep had apparently ingested a large quantity of unicorn blood, after which a ritual had been performed to shackle his soul to his own bones as he had suspected. After that, he had been mummified by his acolytes, organ removal and all.

Harry could see how that might work. Unicorn blood was not a healing substance, but it would keep you alive through damn near anything by virtue of preventing the soul from escaping its fleshy prison. That would make a fine basis for a ritual to bind body and soul together in a permanent fashion. The problem with unicorn blood was that unicorns were one of the rare few magical species that had evolved on their own instead of being the result of wizards experimenting or accidentally screwing something up. Their magic in its raw form was wholly incompatible with humans and caused some progressively more horrible side effects over time if ingested through the blood. Mummification would certainly get around those side effects though….if you didn't mind being exsanguinated and having your organs pulled out of your still living body.

Not his cup of tea.

"You'll be keeping that locked in Ravenhead, never to see the light of day?" Dora asked pointedly.

"Exactly." Harry confirmed. He didn't even have any aspirations for immortality, much less undeath. "Let's go home."

XXXXX

 _March 13th._

"So, how did you get them to do it?" Bjomolf asked curiously.

"I didn't get them to do anything." Neferu scoffed. "I certainly _tried_ , but they were avoiding human contact like the plague and I couldn't get any of my agents close without arousing at least Potter's suspicion. They blundered into Imhotep's tomb on their own, all I did was keep my people out of the way."

"All the better, now we can honestly say we had nothing to do with it." Bjomolf grinned. "Shame that none of the women died, but at least we are rid of that ancient menace."

"Quite, and it will certainly free up some manpower for me." Neferu agreed.

"Might I suggest that you use it to cast your web wider?"

"Why?" The Egyptian vampire asked suspiciously.

"I may have…. _accelerated_ events a little bit."

XXXXX

 _Albania._

Draco started a little as a rather disreputable looking man sat down at his table without an invitation. He had hair cut very close to his skull, looked to be in need of a shave and had a rather large nose.

He was also dressed like a muggle, which would have immediately sent Draco into an insulting tirade had the circumstances been different. That it only annoyed him was a result of the fact that he had needed to learn how to blend in with muggles recently since there were no proper magical communities around there parts. Well, that and the fact that the man's grey eyes were rather intimidating, but Draco wasn't going to admit that.

"Can I help you?" He asked in English, not knowing a word of the local language.

"No, but I can help you." The man said in accented but otherwise very good English. "I'm Goran and someone paid me a lot of money to help you out with whatever you're here to do."

Draco smiled. The others had sent him help!

"In that case, it's a pleasure to meet you, Goran." He replied, not noticing the slight tick of the other man's eyebrow as he butchered the pronunciation of the name. "I'm Draco Malfoy."

He said the name as if it was supposed to mean something and Goran privately thought that the little blonde fucker was lucky that it really was a lot of money, or else he'd be tempted to bury him out in the woods somewhere, possibly still alive.

XXXXX

 **Shout out to Milennial for reminding me to use the "Egypt is basically like the internet" joke. You can't have Egypt without that joke.**

 **This chapter took longer than get out than usual for several reasons, some of them were even legitimate, such as my discovery of a really nifty 2D platformer a few days ago (Ori and the Blind Forest in case you were wondering. Great game, I recommend it).**

 **In any case, the next one should be out sooner….theoretically. It isn't likely to be twice as long as my usual chapters at least, which should cut down on the writing time if nothing else.**


	39. Chapter 39

**So, it's been a while since my last update. This delay was mostly due to me having a friend crashing at my place for almost 2 weeks. Writing is a lot like taking a shit for me; I can't do it when I have company. Well, that's not entirely true, I'm sure I could manage to take a shit with company present if I really had to...maybe comparing writing and bowel movements wasn't the best idea.**

 **Anyway, much thanks go to Joe Lawyer for his help in polishing up the chapter.**

XXXXX

 _March 14th._

 _Sirius would have hated this._

That was what Harry's thoughts boiled down to as he attended his godfather's funeral, along with his girls, Narcissa, Andromeda, Ted, Penny, Remus and the two house-elves.

The Blacks had a personal graveyard for their family members, though Harry knew that Sirius would have also hated to have his final resting place here. Not that it really _was_ his final resting place since there was no body to bury, nor was Sirius in a position to care anymore, on account of being dead. The idea of caring what happened to your body after you died had always struck Harry as being rather absurd. What difference did it make? You were dead!

Even as a young child, he had been puzzled by what exactly a funeral was supposed to accomplish. To him, it had always felt like funerals were being used as yet another venue for people to show off how sympathetic, virtuous and dignified they were by offering condolences that they didn't feel to the grievers.

Maybe that was just his upbringing at work, but Harry knew that he would be tempted to punch someone if he had to put up with that.

This private little ceremony at least spared him from that, even if he still thought it was pointless. Nonetheless, Sirius would have hated this, this somberness.

He wondered if any of the others felt the same and were just playing along because they didn't know what else to do.

Harry would miss Sirius, but he found it hard to feel bad for him. Yes, he was dead, but death was no terrible thing and everyone had to go eventually anyway. It would have been better to remember him for his life rather than for his death, if they had to do this at all. People might say that that was what funerals were for, but Harry wasn't seeing it. This subdued affair had no connection to Sirius' life at all.

 _I'm going to have a permanent reminder of his death as it is._ He thought, rubbing the left side of his face.

The scars from where Imhotep had laid his face open hadn't healed and at this point were obviously not going to.

Luna gave his other hand a squeeze and he gave her a small smile in return. She, Dora and Fleur were probably more affected by Sirius' death than him, being rather more emotional. It was the only reason he was even at this funeral to be perfectly honest.

XXXXX

 _March 15th. Egypt._

Harry was back in Egypt, chasing a loose end. The girls had protested and only relented once he had sworn that he would run at the first sight of trouble. Something was not adding up with the whole Imhotep adventure and he meant to get to the bottom of it. He just had to find another sphinx to talk to.

That part was rather easy as it turned out. There were several of them near Imhotep's tomb.

Harry walked up to one of them, recognising the very same sphinx that he had spoken to back in the hedge maze at the end of his fourth year.

"Spellweaver." The sphinx greeted.

"Why did you lead me to Imhotep's tomb." Harry asked without preamble.

"Egypt is fallen." She said solemnly. "It fell long ago, never to rise again and our duty was thus voided, but Imhotep's magic still bound us. We reinterpreted the wording of his commands in the hope that someone would have the strength to free us."

Harry wasn't sure what to say to that. He didn't appreciate being used, but he had known they were up to something before they ever set foot in the tomb and there was more to this besides.

"Imhotep was supposed to protect Egypt according to the inscription on his sarcophagus." He pointed out. "What went wrong?"

"The secret sect of Ra's priesthood that was meant to awaken Imhotep when the need arose was murdered by a powerful vampire, but not before he learned of their duty. Ever since, that vampire's bloodline has kept watch to prevent him from being awoken again. You were the first seeker of the tomb they had not slain."

And there was the missing piece of the puzzle that explained why the tomb had remained sealed for so long.

Harry remembered his first talk with Bjomolf, when the ancient vampire had briefly mentioned their conflict with the Sun-sorcerers of the past. He had been _allowed_ to find the tomb, free of vampire interference, in the hopes that he would dispose of a longstanding problem for them. A risky gamble, he could have just as easily ended up freeing the ancient lich.

"Why did Imhotep attack us?" Harry asked his final question. He already had a good idea, but he'd like to have it confirmed.

"One among your number was veela, Imhotep would have recognised her as a spawn of the succubi and they have ever been his enemy. Whether he would have attacked you regardless none can truly say. Perhaps he would have, simply because you were not garbed in the vestments of Ra's priesthood or perhaps his long sleep had driven him to madness."

Harry nodded with a sigh, suddenly feeling very tired.

"Do you intend to take vengeance against us?" The sphinx asked, nothing more than mild curiousity in her tone.

What an odd thing to ask. Harry knew that he could be spiteful and petty at times, but he felt no particular impulse to lash out right now. He had no grudge against the sphinxes and he could understand, even sympathise with, their motivation. Besides, it wasn't like they had forced him to do anything. They may have laid out the hints, but the five of them had walked into danger willingly, knowing full well that something was fishy about the whole thing. Taking revenge on the sphinxes would serve no purpose, he wouldn't even gain any satisfaction out of it.

"No." He said simply and turned to walk away.

"Then we are in your debt, Spellweaver." The sphinx said with a slight incline of her head. "You may call on us, if you have the need. It would be nice to have purpose again."

That did surprise Harry, but he wasn't going to refuse an offer like that.

"I'll keep it in mind."

XXXXX

The girls were less than amused when he conveyed his findings to them.

"You mean they set us up?" Fleur asked furiously.

"If you could classify letting us blunder into trouble as 'setting us up'." Harry replied with a sigh.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Dora demanded. "Sirius is dead because of them!"

Grief and some guilt for Sirius' death had taken hold as soon as they were out of danger, now that was turned to anger as they learned that they had been taken advantage of.

"And what am I supposed to do?" Harry asked, a light trace of sarcasm entering his tone. "Should I knock down Bjomolf's front door and demand to know why his people stayed out of our way exactly like I wanted them to?"

"They could have warned us." Fleur insisted, still angry.

"They could have," Harry agreed. "but would we have listened? Speaking for myself, I know that I would have been even more interested if I was told that there was a lich entombed there. Maybe my curiousity would have gotten the better of me and I would have gone down there myself, confident in my own power. Maybe Imhotep would not have been hostile without you there, or maybe I would have seen that I was overmatched and fled, letting him lay waste to the country."

Fleur went quiet at that. It was a hard thing to admit, but she knew that she might have insisted on going too, perhaps simply to spite the vampires that she disliked on an instinctive level.

She nodded silently and sat down next to him, a clear indication that she was done arguing.

"I can't believe you're making apologies for them." Dora glowered at him.

"I'm not." Harry said tersely. "I have no doubt that they had some scheme ready to point us at that tomb, but the fact remains that we walked into it of our own free wil."

"Sirius wouldn't want us to risk our lives trying to avenge him." Luna spoke up quietly from where she was sitting in Harry's lap, stopping the conversation in its tracks.

"Luna's right." Harry agreed with a sigh a few moments later. "Even if we had a more justifiable reason to be pissed at the vampires, I wouldn't be eager to make an enemy of them, especially not with the threat of Voldemort still looming over us."

Dora exhaled gustily and sat on his free side, leaning in for a hug.

"He was my favorite cousin." She said sadly.

"I thought I was your favorite cousin?" Harry quipped with a crooked smile.

"Prat." She muttered in retaliation.

"How about we go to Black Island for a little while, just the four of us?" He suggested. "We did expect to be gone a lot longer than this and I'm personally not too eager to be back quite yet."

While still a bit subdued, all three of the girls liked that idea.

XXXXX

 _March 30th. Black Island._

 _Another beautiful day._ Dora thought contently as she made her way down to the beach.

This extra bit of vacation had been a good idea. It had allowed them time to come to grips with Sirius' death without any external pressures. He would be missed, but the pain of his passing was no longer so acute.

Harry was already at the beach, sitting naked on a large blanket charmed to repel sand. She was naked too – none of them had bothered putting any clothes on since the second day of their arrival. There was nobody to see except the four of them and Etal anyway, and the quetzalcoatl had flown over to South America in a fit of nostalgia over a week ago and hadn't been seen since.

Her lover's eyes raked over her naked form hungrily and she could see his erection swelling into readiness. She privately enjoyed his obvious attraction, but a romantic shag on the beach wasn't what either of them were here for.

"So, what are we doing today?" She asked, plopping herself across from him on the blanket.

"I think you're about ready to get started on Spellweaving." Harry said, giving her a proud smile.

"Alright!" She cheered, grinning. She'd wanted to move on from Will Manifestation for months already, but Harry wouldn't budge and insisted that she keep practicing until she was able to call up magic with the same ease as she moved her arms.

"Spellweaving will be different from what I've taught you so far." Harry began, his voice carrying a warning tone. "Above all else you _must_ remember that you are working without a buffer that a wand provides. Any spells you weave will be influenced by your emotions much more than you're used to."

"I know, you've said this before." Dora said impatiently.

"And I'll say it again." Harry replied sternly and then held up his right arm, which of course still had the old burn scars going up to the elbow. "Or else you might find yourself with one of these too."

Dora could have flippantly said that she could just morph the scars away, but his unamused gaze and scarred face kept her quiet. It would be insensitive, but that wasn't the reason it would be a dumb thing to say. Harry wasn't self-conscious about his scars and carried them with an indifferent sort of dignity that prevented them from truly detracting from his looks, but he would not be happy if she dismissed the hard lessons that had been learned when he got them.

"I understand." She said with a nod.

"Good, then we can get started. As we've established before, Will Manifestation is essentially just focusing enough magic into a specific desire that the regular order of the universe is briefly suspended in favor of your will. It is energy inefficient, has mostly straightforward effects and isn't _directly_ dangerous to you. With Spellweaving, you will be crafting an altered subset of reality that functions on different rules compared to mundane physical reality. This _is_ dangerous and requires a rigid control of your thoughts for it to be stable. Emotions influence people to a very large degree, so anything you try to cast will be tinted with whatever emotions you're feeling at the time."

"Alright, how do I do it then?" Dora said with a slow nod, forehead scrunched in concentration as she tried to follow what she sometimes privately referred to as 'Harry's metaphysical mumbo-jumbo'. That she even knew what 'metaphysical' meant was something else to blame Harry for.

"First, it would probably benefit you to get a feel for the world around you."

Dora cocked her head quizzically, having no idea what he was talking about.

"We're going to have to relocate for this one." Harry said and held out his hand, clearly intending side-along Apparition.

With a small shrug, she went along with it.

They reappeared in a small clearing somewhere on the island's forest, which had a semi-large boulder as its most defining feature.

"Go sit on the boulder." Harry said.

"Alright, now what?" She asked once she was on it, bemused.

"Close your eyes." Harry instructed patiently.

She did so, plunging her perception into darkness. Her lover's powerful magic glowed in her mind like a beacon.

"Now relax and _listen_. Not with your ears, they are deaf to what you want to hear. I want you to listen with your magic."

Once upon a time, she would have needed to rearrage her ears so that they were truly deaf to have any hope of doing that, but she had learned since then.

Still, she couldn't really 'hear' anything except for Harry's magic.

"The rocks, the trees and the earth here are all magically inert, but that doesn't mean they don't have memory of a sort. I'll go back to the beach so that I'm not distracting you. I'll come back in two hours if you fail, come find me if you succeed."

"How will I know if I've succeeded?" She asked archly, opening her eyes.

"You'll know." He said with a smile and apparated away.

"Such a gentleman, leaving me sitting alone and naked on top of a rock in the middle of nowhere." Dora said to herself mockingly and closed her eyes again.

The rock was a bit uncomfortable on her naked bum and she had no idea what Harry wanted her to achieve, but she ignored that and tried to do as he said. Harry wouldn't have had her doing something pointless, that much she was sure of.

The echoes of his presence slowly dissipated, leaving the clearing empty of any magic save her own. Time slowly slipped away as she lost herself in the various noises of forest and the whispering of the wind through the trees. Her state could almost be called a light doze if not for the hyper-awareness that her magical senses provided.

Still, there was nothing much to sense. Her magic was spread all over the clearing, trying to _listen_ as Harry had told her to do, but there was nothing to sense. There was only the breeze, the birdsong, the chattering of insects, the flow of the ocean...

Dora's eyes snapped open in bewilderment. The sensation of being underwater had crept into her perception so stealthily that she had barely noticed it, yet once she did it was jarringly discordant with everything else.

With renewed purpose, she sank back into meditation, seeking the elusive sensation. It had come from the boulder she was sitting on, that much she knew, so that was where she focused her efforts.

It took some doing to return to the right mindset, but she did have at least some idea what she was after now and managed it without great difficulty. It wasn't so much a memory as it was an impression of a great length of time passing by while submerged in salty ocean water...then a change. Lifted from the depths by a powerful force and moved to this forest. Partially buried in the earth and once more left alone.

Dora apparated back to Harry, eager to share her success with him and get an explanation on what exactly she had succeeded at.

"An hour and a half, give or take." He said as soon as she popped into existence. "Not bad at all."

"What was that?" She asked, plopping herself on the blanket after giving her sore bottom a little rub. "That boulder...I just... _knew_ that it had been taken from the ocean a while ago. You moved it, didn't you?"

"The world has a voice too, though almost nobody learns how to listen to it in this day and age, not that it was likely to be common in any age." Harry explained. "Yes, I moved that boulder the day after we arrived here. I thought you'd need something a little louder to listen to."

"But what is this 'voice'?" She pressed.

"The voice is the soul and yes, inanimate objects have souls too. Humans naturally like to equate the mind and the soul, but that's just fear of death talking. The soul is essentially an existential fingerprint, comprised of everything a person or object is and has happened to them. It is theoretically possible to learn everything about any person or object simply by listening to their souls, but our minds are too limited to grasp more than a tiny fraction of that information."

"That's...pretty amazing, but how does it relate to Spellweaving?"

"Ah, yes. Wizards and witches are, as usual, an anomaly. Due to the tangible link between our minds and souls, our souls are more...alive, for lack of a better word. Ours are the only souls I've found so far that are receivers as well as transmitters, aside from _maybe_ the goblins."

Dora blinked at the sudden radio analogy. "Yeah, you're going to need to explain that one."

"Like I said, everything that exists has a soul, a voice, but not just anyone can learn to listen. In essence, most of humanity and all other life is born deaf to this layer of existence. Tell me, could you have detected the use of a levitation spell on that boulder after two weeks with conventional means? Or that that I took it from the ocean?"

"Of course not." Dora answered. Levitation left few enough magical traces as it was, detecting them after two weeks would be impossible by means of any spell she knew. Trying to detect that the boulder had been lifted from the ocean... _that_ she couldn't even begin to figure out how to do with any conventional spell.

"Of course not." Harry agreed. "But you could 'hear' the memory of the ocean and the echo of my spell on the soul of the stone. That spell was formed of my mind and will and carried the imprint of my soul. Wanded magic carries the traces of the creature whose parts were used in its making, plus the impression of the caster, rather than the unfiltered imprint that wandless magic creates. We'll come back to how this is going to help you learn Spellweaving a bit later. For now, let's just say that this little exercise was to give you some appreciation for context."

"Context?" She asked curiously.

"All actions, even mundane ones, leave a memory of sorts on the world. Most of these just blend into the background unless they are of a cataclysmic variety like volcanoes erupting, meteor impacts, wars or other kinds of abrupt and extremely disruptive events. Magical actions however, even relatively small ones, make a big splash when they are first done and leave a much stronger memory. It will take a very long time before that boulder will 'forget' my levitation spell."

Dora considered that for a while. When teaching, Harry always preferred to make you question whenever possible rather than spoon-feeding you information one bit at a time. His favorite questions were how and why and she'd already asked how earlier.

"Why does using magic make a big 'splash'?" She asked.

Harry smiled at her approvingly and projected a sense of satisfaction through his aura. That made her smile back and thrust her chest out proudly, sending her currently-D-cup breasts bouncing. His eyes flicked towards them – which turned her smile into a grin – but he didn't otherwise react.

As he often did, he answered with another question.

"How old is magic?"

That threw her. How was she supposed to answer that?

"I have no idea." She admitted.

"Think about it." He said. "The truth is fairly obvious once you eliminate all the ridiculous answers."

Think about it, huh?

Well if she was going to eliminate the ridiculous answers then the first thing that came to mind was that one persistent theory among certain purebloods that magic itself chose which bloodlines would be magical at the beginning of the world. This theory was plagued with many problems, chief among them the existence of muggleborns and those purebloods' stubborn belief that the world's age was measured in thousands of years rather than billions.

Still, despite the egotistical stupidity of it, they almost definitely got one thing right. Magic had to be older than humanity.

She recalled a conversation she'd overheard back during her early Hogwarts days. She'd been studying in the library and overheard two boys a year ahead of her speculating if dragons were related to dinosaurs. The idea had stuck with her simply because of how plausible it was.

Furthermore, she knew that while it was up to the individual magical governments to contain breaches to the Statute of Secrecy made by their citizens, the ICW itself employed a very large contingent of obliviators whose sole duty – aside from being on standby in case of a truly severe breach – was to keep a close eye on the muggle world and make any paleontological or archeological evidence that might hint at magic disappear. Harry had also looked into the history of the ICW and found that there had been a vast undertaking to remove any trace of such knowledge from public view back when the ICW was first founded, finishing the job that European wizards and witches had been doing somewhat haphazardly for centuries before then.

So, if dragons were indeed related to dinosaurs, then that meant that magic was probably older than them too. Seeing as there was no particular reason to think it would stop there, it followed that magic was probably older than the planet itself. Factoring in Harry's explanations on the stars and the Void...yeah, magic was probably as old as the universe. Huh, what do you know, it really _was_ obvious.

"As old as the universe?" She asked in a lofty tone.

"At least that old, yes. The scale of it is far too great to have simply popped into existence randomly or been created artificially, so it must have existed from the start." Harry nodded agreeably.

"Alright." Dora said and paused. "How does that answer my question?"

Harry chuckled. "It doesn't, not yet. I'm afraid we'll have to digress once or twice more before I can give you a straight answer."

Dora snorted in amusement and rolled her eyes, but nodded anyway. She knew how Harry's lessons worked now. His digressions always happened when there was some underlying concept that had to be explained before any answer would make sense.

"Alright then, digress away." She said with an imperious wave of her hand.

And so he did. "Mundane science recognises that our universe is governed by four fundamental forces, those being gravity, electromagnetism, the weak nuclear force and the strong nuclear force. Magic doesn't fit in, it flagrantly warps the basic principles of one or more of these every single time it's used for even the most miniscule reason. Levitation? It counters the effects of gravity with no obvious force being used from the perspective of physics. Transfiguration? It changes the molecular and even atomic structure of objects as if it was no more noteworthy than rearranging some sand. There's an example like that for every spell you care to name."

"So you're saying that magic is an aberration?" Dora asked slowly, brows knit close together as she tried to discern what he was getting at.

"Not exactly." Harry said with a small smile. "While it is definitely aberrant if viewed from a conventional perspective, it is also indisputably part of our existence and therefore must have a place somewhere. If magic cannot be placed within the limits of the world that mundane senses are able to perceive, then it must exist outside of them."

"How would that work?" She asked skeptically.

Harry seemed to have been expecting the question. Perhaps Fleur and Luna had already asked it, or he had asked it himself. Either way, he was prepared to answer it.

"Imagine a world that exists in only two dimensions. Everything in this world would be defined only by length and width. To the people living in this 'Flatland', the mere concept of height would be more foreign to them than Britain's trade relations with Japan are to a slug. If you looked down on Flatland, you would be able to see it and its people in their entirety. The borders of their bodies would be their skin, but it wouldn't hide anything from your three-dimensional gaze. If you looked close enough you could even see the individual brain synapses firing or poke your finger right into their guts and they would be helpless to stop you – they wouldn't even be able to perceive you. Similarly, these two-dimensional people would be beyond the perception of anyone that lived in a single dimension, defined only as backward and forward. By the same token, anything above the third dimension is beyond the perception of _regular_ three-dimensional beings."

The stress on 'regular' in that last sentence was as clear a hint as anyone could ask for.

"But not us?" Dora asked.

"Not us." Harry agreed. "At least not completely. We may still be merely human and have human limitations, but we exist partially beyond those limitations as well. Remember how we talked about the soul being an existential fingerprint earlier? This is an ontological concept undefined by physical reality and might as well not exist for all the effect it has on the non-magical, but we are different. Most wizards and witches – when they can be bothered to even think about it in the first place – do so like to imagine that there is a core of energy inside them that powers their spells, but it isn't nearly that simple. You could say that magic exists parallel to the physical universe and we have, through some cosmic stroke of good fortune, been gifted with the ability to perceive and interact with it in whatever limited degree our minds are capable of."

"You said that we have magic because of some 'cosmic stroke of good fortune', but it's well documented that magical ability follows bloodlines. How do you explain that then?"

"That is an excellent question!" Harry beamed at her, an expression that looked decidedly odd on his scarred face. "The short answer is that magic begets more magic. Wizards and witches happen to release a powerful burst of raw magic during orgasm, which is what veela are so thirsty for by the way, but any sufficiently high concentration of magic present during conception will also greatly increase the chances of the resulting child being magical."

"And how exactly did you figure _that_ out?" Dora asked skeptically.

Harry suddenly looked shifty.

"Harry..." She said warningly.

"Well, I may have...tracked down a few young couples that were trying to have a baby, broken into their homes and enchanted the ever-loving shite out of their beds." He admitted reluctantly.

"Harry!" Dora exclaimed, too incredulous to be properly upset. "You can't just randomly enchant peoples' beds to satisfy your curiousity!"

"What's the harm?" Harry asked defensively. "Those couples will have the best, most satisfying sex lives in town. I probably prevented a divorce or two."

Dora pinched the bridge of her nose. How does a girl tell her too mature, but still teenaged, authority-hating boyfriend that treating random people like test subjects for his experiments was wrong, even if they benefitted from it?

"Three of them have already had children, two of which were magical, so I'm definitely on to something even though there is obviously also an element of chance involved." Harry went on, oblivious to her thoughts. Probably, you could never be sure with him. "And I have Teeny keeping an eye on things in case any magical pests are drawn to the beds, though it does drive her to distraction that she isn't allowed to clean anything else."

"I can't believe you." She muttered, shaking her head in exasperation. "I turn my back for one moment and you go off, creating new muggleborns. I suppose I should be glad you didn't poke holes into someone's condoms."

"It was for science." Harry said haughtily.

Dora snorted contemptously. "Well then, oh great scientist, how do you explain muggleborns, the naturally ocurring ones?"

"I have no idea." Harry admitted. "It's probably some combination of factors both terrestrial and cosmic happening at just the right time. The birth rates of magical children are certainly low enough in areas bereft of any other magic for it. Happens with animals occasionally too, but humans seem to be far more susceptible. Must have something to do with sapience."

Dora shook her head, feeling rather exhausted by this heavy conversation. She wanted to _do_ stuff!

"Can we just get to the lesson? My arse is starting to fall asleep here and so far we haven't done anything but _talk_."

Harry looked amused. "Alright then. You asked me earlier why using magic makes a big 'splash'. Could you answer your own question now?"

Dora was not a person naturally given to philosophy and deep existential debates, being more of a doer than a thinker, but months of listening to Harry wax elonquent on the nature of magic and whatever else came to mind had instilled a certain ability to make sense of what lesson he was trying to teach.

"Because magic is disruptive to the natural order of things?" She hazarded.

"Ten points to Hufflepuff!" Harry praised jokingly.

"Could I convince you to make it twenty?" She cooed, batting her eyelashes at him coquettishly and sticking her chest out. Aside from the ability to make sense of Harry's philosophical ramblings, Dora had also gained an ability to tell when a shag was imminent and she had a feeling that this lesson would end in one, which she was more than fine with. Some sticky fun would be the perfect way to unwind after this heavy conversation. _Fleur must be rubbing off on me._

"We will discuss point allocation during your detention." He replied sternly, though he was making no attempt to hide his lusty leering.

"Detention?!" She demanded in mock outrage."For what?"

"Criminal sexiness." He smirked.

Dora huffed and stuck her nose in the air, hiding her amusement. Then she shrank her breasts until her chest was flat as a board.

"How's that then?" She asked, pretending to sulk.

"Hey, I was enjoying those." Harry complained. "Bring them back."

"No." She said snootily, still feigning offence. "You called my girls criminals and now they don't want to see you."

"Will they forgive me if I give them a kiss?" He asked with a bemused expression.

"Maybe." She shrugged carelessly, keeping her chest flat. Metamorphmagi might be capable of giving themselves the most perfect set of tits imaginable, but gravity was still a thing and having a pair of D-cup organic milk bags hanging from your chest for a extended period of time wasn't easy on one's back.

"I'll be sure to give it my all then." He declared in the manner of a valiant hero about to embark on a quest to save a princess from a tower. Doubly ridiculous given his generally cynical personality. "For now, let's get back to the lesson."

Dora smiled, not so much at the thought of getting back to the lesson, but at his attitude at her current lack of breasts. She'd gone boobless with a few of her past boyfriends, it being a good way to test them. Their reactions had without fail been negative. Of course, Harry had seen her do much weirder things than this with her powers, even suggested some of them, but it was a nice reminder of the fact that he didn't see her ability as a means to turn her into his ideal image of a woman or something like that.

"Yes, let's get back to the lesson." She said warmly, causing him to blink at the clearly unexpected affection in her tone.

Either way, he didn't call her out on it and got back on track."Right, well, you also only got ten points because your answer was only partially correct. To be more precise, _spells_ are disruptive to the mundane order of things. Some people like to antropomorphise magic, but those people are idiots. If there were no humans, the only sign of magic even existing would be the occasional freak occurence of a new species emerging that blatantly breaks the laws of physics like dragons, unicorns or phoenixes. Interesting side note, have you noticed how only magical species that evolved on their own, without wizard meddling, have parts that work as wand cores?"

"What about veela?" She asked archly. "Their hair can be used as a wand core."

"Doesn't count. They have phoenix ancestry and only veela ca use veela hair as wand cores."

"Fine, but lets get back on topic before you digress on me again." Dora said sternly.

"As you wish." He said mildly. "We'll start you off with something simple then, levitation."

"But I can already do that." Dora protested. It was the truth, an understated one in fact. She'd long since lost count of the number of things she had levitated over the past few months.

"Not with a proper spell you can't." Harry denied.

"Fine, what do I do then?" She conceded.

"Before we begin, we need something to levitate." Harry said and held out his hand. A rock sailed into it a second later and he set it down between them. "Perfect. Now, you learned a little earlier how to _listen_. Listen to the rock."

Dora scrunched her eyes and tried to do exactly that. It was harder to _listen_ to the world this time because of Harry's powerful presence and the enchanted blanket they were on, plus she was still a novice at this, but she did eventually manage it.

"I have it." She said, still focusing on the rock.

"Good, notice how it relates to the world around it?"

"Yes." She answered absently.

It was just sitting there, at rest. The echo of Harry's Summoning Charm was still very strong upon it, but at the moment it was placidly staying still and would continue to do so until the end of time unless something else moved it.

"You know the principles behind levitation spells as well as anyone. Create a mental construct and apply it to the rock."

Dora frowned in concentration, staring at the rock. It rose into the air and she gave Harry a triumphant smile.

"That's not a spell Dora, you're still using Will Manifestation. If we stick with the sound analogy from earlier, you're just screaming at the world rather than composing a song."

The rock dropped as she stopped focusing, making an almost accusatory little thud.

"Try again."

She did, with similar results. And then several times more until she was starting to get frustrated.

"Anger won't help you." Harry said, no doubt noticing her decreasing patience. "Emotion is great for Will Manifestation if you know how to channel it properly and it can be useful to give certain spells a little extra zing, but it will also twist any spells you try to use so that they satisfy whatever emotional impulse you're under at the time. So please, calm down. I don't fancy being smashed in the face with a rock. "

Dora snickered at the joke.

"Alright, I'm good now." She said.

"Let's try another approach. Forget the rock for now. Take your time, close your eyes and carefully structure the spell until you're sure that it's stable. Once you've managed that we can move on to applying it."

With another deep breath, she closed her eyes and focused.

"Remember that a spell, once finished, is a hard and inflexible imposition on the world. Its limits must be carefully defined in order to work properly."

Right, carefully defined. Float between them at eye level should do it.

"I think I have it." Dora said after nearly five whole minutes of struggling to keep the spell stable.

"Good, then cast it on the rock, but maintain control to the very end so that it doesn't unravel."

"Very nice." Harry praised a minute later as he grabbed the rock out of the air, easily breaking her spell. "A bit wobbly, but very nice indeed for a first attempt."

"It took me forever to do it." She said in frustration.

"You're working without any of the crutches you're used to." Harry pointed out. "The mind is an easily distracted thing, so without vocalisation or wand waving to focus your intent, you're naturally prone to drifting away from the task at hand. Practice will sharpen your focus."

"I suppose we'll be working on that next?" She asked shrewdly.

"We've been working on it from the start, but yes." He nodded in confirmation. "Ideally, you will reach a state of mind that is pure in its focus and immune to external distraction. Zen Buddhism calls this state fudōshin, the immovable mind."

"Zen Buddhism?" She repeated in an amused drawl. "You're really pushing this grasshopper kung fu bullshit, aren't ya?"

"There's only so many Yoda quotes that I can use." He quipped. "Besides, I can't help it if we Europeans were too busy being uncultured savages to bother with philosophy."

"I think you took some splash damage there." She pointed out wryly.

"Nah, Europe is pretty cultured these days." He countered with a smirk. "Took us over fifteen hundred years after the fall of Rome, but we got there eventually."

"Point." She snickered and looked at him speculatively. "So, how far ahead of me are Fleur and Luna?"

"You shouldn't compare yourself to them." Harry chided.

"I'm not, but I still want to know." She did talk about this with Fleur and Luna of course, but Harry was the only one who could give an estimation like that.

Harry sighed with some exasperation as he answered. "They're maybe a couple of months of work ahead of you, but they each have their own set of problems. Luna's thoughts are prone to wandering , so it takes her longer to master an individual spell. On the other hand, she is an excellent multitasker and is fully capable of moving while weaving spells with no discernable loss of focus, something that I suspect you'll probably have some trouble with. Fleur has control issues, as always. Her combat spells are more volatile than I'm happy with, so she probably won't be doing anything too sophisticated for quite some time. As for her non-combat spells...well, they tend to come out a bit...sexy, for lack of a better term."

"Sexy?" Dora asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, sexy." Harry confirmed wryly. "She has a great handle on her Allure nowadays, but at the end of the day she is still a magical creature and the Allure is an intrinsic part of her nature and tends to seep into any spells she casts without the buffer of a wand. Let's say that she tried to cast some cleaning charms or what have you on the bed or any spells that affected the whole room, then anyone entering that room and sleeping in that bed will find themselves feeling unusually amourous."

"Wait, is that why I've been feeling so damn randy lately?" Dora demanded.

"Could be." Harry said seriously, though his lips were twitching.

"That sneaky bitch!" Dora laughed. "Now I know why she was so insistent on taking over all the housekeeping around here."

"Well I did tell her to practice and who knows, maybe deliberately tainting her spells with lust will teach her how to filter it out later." He shrugged.

Dora snorted contemptously. As if Fleur would ever want to learn how to do something like that.

"Speaking of Fleur, we should check if she and Luna are done with the food." As they had elected to not bring even house elves with them this time, they had to make their own meals. That was...interesting.

Fleur was actually not half-bad in the kitchen, but did have an unfortunate predilection for fish that nobody else shared.

Luna liked pudding. _Really_ liked pudding. It was best to not leave her unsupervised for too long.

Harry was a very patient man in many respects, but not when it came to food. He had spent pretty much his whole life having other people make it for him, was _always_ busy with something and suffered from a low-key resentment of the time it took to prepare meals. Left to his own devices, he would probably quickly get fed up with cooking and start eating the ingredients raw when possible, eventually defaulting to nothing but nuts, fruit, vegetables and bread. Or he might even make some alchemically concoted nutrient dust that could be added to a glass of water and replace eating altogether. It would be just like the silly bugger to do something like that.

Not that Dora had room to talk. Before moving in with Harry, her meals had mostly consisted of take-out and whatever could be microwaved into edibility, though her reason was laziness rather than impatience.

"Yes, I suppose we should." Harry agreed, standing up and stretching.

Dora withheld a slight frown. Had she misread the situation? She'd been certain that Harry was intending to take advantage of the opportunity for a little private sexy time.

Hiding her disappointment, she nodded and got up to stretch as well.

...and then failed to keep the grin off her face as Harry stepped up behind her and pulled her into an embrace.

"You didn't really think I was going to let you go so easily, did you?" He purred, nibbling on her ear.

Dora shivered in pleasure and melted into the embrace. "For a second there I did think that I'd stumbled upon a turn off for you." She admitted.

"What, a flat chest?" He scoffed, reaching up to lightly pinch her nipples and making her yelp in surprise. "I like a nice set of knockers as much as the next guy, but this isn't nearly enough take away from your sexiness. Speaking of which, I do believe I promised them restitution for calling them criminal."

Dora smiled at the compliment and let out a pleased groan as he bit into her neck exactly the way she liked it, going down to his knees and taking her with him in the process. The feel of his member throbbing in the cleft between her buttocks had her loins burning with need.

Half an hour later she was running her fingers across the rune scars on Harry's back as he lay atop her and slowly nibbled at her earlobe. 'Post-coital bliss' took on an entirely new meaning when the participants were magically connected on such a deep level that words became redundant and all of life's petty problems faded into insignificance.

Why had she ever been afraid of this?

XXXXX

 _April 5th. Potter Manor._

Luna smiled sadly as she gently ran her finger down Boo's fuzzy back. He was getting old and was noticeably less energetic than he used to be. Even miniature giant space hamsters weren't immune to old age.

"Is your little friend alright?" A concerned voice asked.

"Just old, Grandmum." Luna said to the portrait of Harry's paternal grandmother.

Harry didn't talk to his grandparents' portraits much these days since he didn't really need them anymore. He didn't see the point in wasting time talking to the echoes of the long dead. Luna understood, even if she did think it was a bit callous of him. Dorea and Charlus were very nice people, even if they were portraits. They had even insisted that she, Nymphadora and Fleur call them Grandmum and Granddad. They had tried to warn Harry away from a relationship with Fleur of course, but had relented once he had set things straight.

That's why Boo's terrarium was in this room. It gave Luna a chance to talk to them while she took care of her hamster's needs, modest as they were. Teeny and Kreacher were a bit put out that she insisted on doing this herself, but she enjoyed it.

Luna spent another ten minutes chatting to the two portraits before deciding to see what her lovers were up to. They were supposed to have a meeting and she was already a bit late.

"Tell that grandson of ours to come talk to us soon, will you, dear?" Charlus asked hopefully.

"Of course, Granddad." Luna said with a wide smile, despite knowing that Harry would just roll his eyes in exasperation.

She decided to skip her way to the study, despite Narcissa's admonishments about it being undignified.

"...get what you're saying, Dora, but we can't just train up a private army." Harry was saying just as she entered. "No matter how spineless Fudge is, that isn't something I'd be able to get away with without being accused of plotting to take over the country."

"Hello." Luna chirped in response to the nods of greeting she received. "What did i miss?"

"Nymmie had an interesting idea." Fleur said.

"Something about a private army." Luna said, cocking her head sideways. "Are we going into the dark lord business? We should coordinate names if we are. I already picked out my dark lady name in case Harry decided to go evil."

"That's nice, but we are not going into the dark lord business." Nymphadora sounded exasperated for some reason. "I just don't like this Voldemort situation. We got rid of as many of his supporters as we could find and aside from chasing the ones that did a runner we can't do any more there, but we're still in the dark about any remaining horcruxes. If we're going to be reduced to sitting on our arses until he comes back, then we might as well train some people to fight so that we aren't outnumbered."

"And like I said, we'd never get away with it." Harry countered. "Even Fudge would have to put his foot down on that one. Or, to be more precise, the rest of the Ministry would have to put its foot down."

"We could say it was a security detail or something."

"Except there's no such thing as professional private security in the magical world outside of an auror guard." Harry pointed out, smiling strangely.

"You've already started up a mobile phone company analogue, we could make a security firm too and what is it with that smile?" Nymphadora finished suspiciously.

"This actually ties in rather neatly to something I wanted to talk to you three about."

That threw the metamorphmagus for a bit of a loop and all three of them simply stared back at him expectantly.

"I got an update from Septima yesterday and it seems that the people at R&D have managed to make a viable prototype for a magical television."

"Alright, I get that you've been considering that application for a while, but why do you need to talk to us about it?" Fleur asked, looking puzzled by the change of subject. Luna was a bit puzzled herself. "Do you want us to head it or something?"

"I could run a channel dedicated to magical animals, we could call it Wizarding Animal Planet. It would be great." Luna enthused. The _Quibbler_ had fallen into disuse after her father'd death and she missed writing articles on exotic creatures.

"I'm sure it would." Harry replied in fond amusement. "And while I would definitely appreciate you taking charge of something like this in my stead, that's not what I wanted to talk about. Narcissa was also present and noted that I'm going to end up employing so many people, many of them foreign, that it would make sense to establish a new town rather than have them scattered all across the country."

"My aunt wants you to found a new town?" Nymphadora asked incredulously.

"Yep." Harry nodded. "Her arguments make sense, but I have a feeling that she's got a bit of an ulterior motive. Narcissa has always been frustrated by my lack of ambition and seems to have decided that she's going to be ambitious on my behalf. I'm pretty sure this is another one of her schemes to elevate my status."

"I think it's sweet of her." Luna opined. It also made Narcissa happy to be trusted to do the bulk of Harry's political and social maneuvering for him.

"You would be a lord in more than just name then." Fleur noted. She sounded intrigued.

"The Ministry would never let it stand." Nymphadora shook her head.

"Why not?" Luna asked.

"Because it would imply a certain degree of autonomy and the Ministry hates autonomy. They've been trying to take control of Hogwarts away from the headmaster position for centuries and have had some minor success with imposing things like the Hogwarts Board of Governors and the Wizarding Examinations Authority on the school, but the headmaster still has far too much power for their liking. Same thing with the Wizengamot, they've managed to add a few Ministry seats to it, but they'd like nothing better than to just usurp all the legislative power for themselves. I just don't see them allowing us to establish what is essentially a personal fiefdom."

"Correct on all points, ten points to Hufflepuff." Harry said jokingly.

"Why not twenty?" Nymphadora asked with a smirk.

"Because you once again overlooked something important." Harry replied smoothly. "Namely, that Fudge is a short-sighted idiot. Much of his reputation is reliant on my continued support and any increase in status for me will also reflect well on him as a result. I doubt he'd even consider the implications before it was too late."

"But you don't want to do that." Fleur stated, sounding quite sure of herself. Luna agreed.

"No, I had something else in mind." He said with a nod towards her. "I want us to avoid the issue altogether by making our own island."

"Where?" Luna asked curiously.

"What do you mean 'where'?" Nymphadora asked incredulously. "The bigger question is _why_?"

"I want to do it because having a territory that isn't beholden to any government would allow us to do anything we want on it, including raising a private army to fight Voldemort." Harry replied, unruffled.

"Mm, and what kind of experiments were you hoping to run there?" Luna continued to question, still curious.

"Nothing gets past you, does it?" Harry asked, clearly amused.

Luna blinked slowly and without understanding. It seemed obvious to her. Harry was too averse to most human contact to exert himself so just to make a town that he would then have to be responsible for. Nymphadora's idea of training their own minions to match Voldemort's could just as easily be accomplished by getting Fudge to grant Harry special privileges. Being neither politically ambitious nor sentimental, Harry would happily abandon the town he created to Ministry control once it was no longer useful as a cover. Creating a new island that didn't fall under any existing jurisdiction was a long term investment and there were only four things he cared about enough to make long term investments for. Three of those reasons were in the room with him and the fourth was magic.

"Harry," Nymphadora said sweetly. "explain."

"There isn't much to explain." Harry replied. "Raising an island would be an interesting challenge and it would afford me the opportunity to try a few things."

"What kind of things?" Fleur asked with interest.

"Well, the first thing would be a fertility ritual I've designed to give vegetation growth a magical boost." Harry admitted.

"Harry, did it ever occur to you that we might not want to have our sex life turned into an experiment for you?" Nymphadora asked, looking a bit irritated for some reason.

"I'm in." Fleur said with a grin.

"Me too." Luna smiled.

"Damn it." Nymphadora huffed.

"It's just an idea." Harry said mildly. "And you have the unique opportunity to decide whether you want to participate as a male, female or both."

"I'm not interested in getting pregnant just yet." Nymphadora raised her next objection.

Luna frowned in confusion. Why would the metamorphmagus think she would be getting pregnant? Harry would probably have to be badgered into giving them babies, so it wasn't likely that he would design a ritual that would get them pregnant.

"That's good then, because the ritual would actually prevent pregnancy for us. It sacrifices the potential for conception and channels it into the earth, along with the energy release of our orgasm. This would unfortunately make the climax feel rather empty for you, Fleur, if not downright unpleasant. Sorry." Harry said, giving an apologetic look to the veela.

Fleur's smile faded into a pensive expression.

"Does it completely sacrifice our ability to have children or just in that one instance?" Luna wanted clarification. "Because I do want babies eventually, so I couldn't agree to perform the ritual with you if it takes that away from me."

"Just in that one instance."

"Alright then."

"And another thing." Nymphadora spoke up again. "You said that high concentrations of magic in an area can cause life to mutate strangely. Wouldn't a sex-based ritual do that too?"

"Yes, though it is a bit of a crapshoot." Harry confirmed with an amused smile. "Especially if Fleur decides to participate. Being a magical creature, the magic that is an instrinsic part of her nature would have a more pronounced effect on the island's ecosystem. I'm terribly curious to see what it would do to the flora and fauna."

"You want to see if you can spread the Allure to the plants." Nymphadora groaned in realisation. "And you need people to test them on."

Harry shrugged unapologetically.

"Harry, I can't in good conscience agree to let you breed an island full of rapey plants and expose people to them." The metamorphmagus sighed a long-suffering sigh.

"They wouldn't be rapey." Harry defended. "Now if the ritual was desgined around rape, that would definitely be a concern, but with the sex being consensual, they would at worst be horny plants."

"And the Allure?" Nymphadora asked archly.

"I'm not sure what form it would take." Harry admitted. "But I _am_ sure that its strength would be diluted, just like a veela's Allure is a diluted form of the one possessed by the succubi. Only people with weaker than average willpower should have any trouble resisting it."

"Right." Nymphadora sighed. "What other things were you hoping to use this for?"

Harry seemed oddly discomfitted by that question. "Well...I've found that I rather enjoy teaching you girls, so I was thinking of maybe establishing another school on the island somewhere down the line after Voldemort is taken care of, a school focused more on general magical knowledge than any specific field. I wouldn't teach people everything that I'm teaching you of course, but I would like to see more competent magi in the world and to do that, I'd need to be away from the stifling regulations that bureaucrats are so damn fond of."

"Wow, that's..." Nymphadora trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"Downright respectable?" Fleur offered.

"I was expecting something less legal." Luna chimed in.

"Hey." Harry complained.

"Sorry, Harry, but you have a history of questionable interests." Luna replied calmly.

"I'd say that some of his interests are a bit more than just questionable." Nymphadora added.

"If he was less careful, he'd have been sent to prison already, for all the good that would do." Fleur finished with a nod.

That was true, imprisoning Harry would be very difficult. There was no such thing as magic-inhibiting wards or restraints, so taking his magic away from him was quite impossible.

"Don't worry, I'm sure that lots of things happening on that island will be illegal according to the rest of the world." Harry said grouchily.

"That reminds me, aren't we going to run into legal trouble if we try raising an island?" Nymphadora asked.

"There's no law against it." Harry shrugged.

"Yes, just like there is no law against attempting to pet a nundu." Fleur drawled with a chuckle. "Nobody ever considers that someone might try it."

"Where were you thinking of doing this anyway?" Nymphadora asked.

"That's what I asked five minutes ago." Luna pouted.

"Not everyone has your knack for getting right to the point." Harry said with a grin. "Anyway, I did some research on possible locations and I think that an area near the Azores archipelago would be best."

"Never heard of it." Nymphadora said.

"It's a chain of volcanic islands due west of Portugal and sits more or less right in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. We'd have to pick a spot some distance away in international waters so that we don't give mundane Portugal or the Iberian magical government any technicalities to work with, but that shouldn't be too hard since the entire area is a volcanic hotspot."

"Are we going to set off a volcano?" Luna asked excitedly.

"Just a little." Harry said, holding his thumb and index finger close together in the universally accepted gesture of 'just a little'.

"Harry, don't take this the wrong way, but are you out of your fucking mind?!" Nymphadora finished with a dull roar. "How is that in any way a good idea?"

"Dora, I don't want to set off a tsunami any more than you do." Harry replied mildly. "I'm not suggesting we play around with plate tectonics, not that we have the power for that anyway. My plan was to transfigure an artificial volcano to get at the magma beneath ocean floor."

"And can you be sure that that won't result in setting off an _actual_ volcanic eruption somewhere else?" Nymphadora challenged.

"Quite sure." Harry assured. "If anything, the pressure release would lower the chances of it happening. Trust me, I googled."

Nymphadora snorted in amusement, but seemed mollified all the same. "That makes sense, I guess."

"Couldn't we just use Black Island for this?" Fleur asked.

"We could." Harry admitted. "But it's both a bit on the small side, has an already established ecosystem, isn't in international waters and I'm frankly not sure if I want to give up our private island retreat."

Fleur nodded and spoke her next words as if they pained her. "I wouldn't be of any use underwater."

"I know, but you could keep us hidden from prying eyes while we're down there."

"That I could do." Fleur said, confidence regained.

"We're seriously doing this then?" Nymphadora asked with a sigh.

"You don't have to help if you don't want to, but we'd miss you." Harry said, looking at the metamorphmagus soulfully.

"Please, Nymphadora." Luna added the weight of her own soulful look to Harry's.

"Pleeease, Nymmie." Fleur pouted, bending forward to give the metamorphmagus a view down her blouse.

"Now that's just not fair." Nymphadora groused. "Fine, I'll help. Cheating arseholes, the lot of you."

Luna tuned out the grumbling and glomped the metamorphmagus with a happy squeal.

XXXXX

The four of them, plus one curious quetzalcoatl, made their way to the Azores by mundane means. Well, Etal flew under his own power, but the rest of them took a plane.

Once they arrived, a simple application of money got them a comfortably sized boat and they headed out to the open seas after a crash course in actually using it.

Two days were spent mucking about with scrying spells, looking for a place that was away from any shipping lanes, in international waters and where the magma flow was relatively close beneath the surface and then another day was spent checking over the enchantments on their gear to make sure that all was as it should be. They would be diving fairly deep after all and didn't want to discover what the water pressure would do to them if the protection spells crapped out.

When they were assured that all was as it should be, they spent another day placing attention deflecting spells to make sure that nobody would take notice of their actions. It was a bit tricky with no solid ground to focus the spells on, but it would work well enough until their fledgling island broke the surface.

While Fleur stayed aboard the boat, the other three dove into the sea. Armed with knowledge attained through their earlier scrying, they picked a likely spot, arranged themselves into a triangular formation and began working.

It went relatively quickly at first, but slowed to a crawl as the base continued to get wider and wider. It was still more narrow than what a naturally occuring mountain or volcano would look like, but there were only so many liberties that any of them were willing to take with physics when playing with something this dangerous, even with spells to fortify the rock thrown in. The work was tedius and exhausting but not overly complex. Just over a week passed before the tip broke the water's surface and they had themselves a miniature party that night to celebrate an end to that bit of drudgery. A bit prematurely it had to be said, as the following two days featured more tedium as they raised it further above water level, but Fleur insisted because she was finally able to participate.

Now having room, they placed more powerful, better anchored concealing spells and turned their attention to the main event.

The top of their artificial mountain was widened into the distinct shape of a volcanic caldera, which was then covered with spells to disperse ash, steam and anything else that might give away their position. It took almost another full day to open up a hole down into the underground magma flows, carefully shunting the excess rock to the sides and making it wider. They could have gone faster, but once again, none of them were keen to have any accidents when playing with molten magma.

A good thing too, as their displacing of that much rock had shifted the pressure and brought the magma considerably closer than they'd expected. Fortunately, they had been both shielded and well away when the last of the rocky plate cracked and exploded upwards from the pressure of a gas pocket in the lava below, kind of like a zit. A big, flaming zit.

Now having an outlet, the magma slowly burbled upwards and spilled over the lip of the caldera, eventually hitting the water and cooling into basaltic rock.

"Now what?" Luna asked, her voice slightly muffled by the enchanted scarf and face mask she was wearing to protect her from the fumes.

"Now we wait." Harry replied, sitting astride his own broom next to her, equally swaddled in magically protected clothing.

XXXXX

"This is too fucking slow." Harry declared a mere few hours later and started applying spells to their volcano that turned it into a giant suction pump.

It worked and soon they had more lava to play with than they honestly knew what to do with. The lowest level of Transfiguration was changing the shape of something without altering its nature and magma turned out to be especially easy to work with due to its lack of solidity. Thus it was that the four of them discovered wizard's playdough, magma edition, adults only.

Abundance of lava or not, the formation of a new island wasn't something that happened quickly and it was nigh on a month before the font of molten rock was 'turned off' as it were.

Harry frowned as he gazed on the irregular-shaped island. It didn't quite have the geographical variance that nature would have given it, but it was easy to spot the differing hands at work.

Fleur had attempted to create a lagoon, with some success it had to be said, though it wasn't a very attractive sight at the moment, what with the black basalt it was formed from. Still, basalt was made largely from silica, so it should be easily within the realm of possibility to reduce it to sand and change its color to something less off-putting.

Luna's area of influence was clearly marked with goofy little hills and dells and who knew what else. Harry wouldn't be surprised to find some other oddball feature hidden among them.

Dora had attempted...something, but it had clearly not gone according to plan, after which she had joined him in simply expanding the surface area of the island to make way for the enchanted forest he had envisioned there.

But that wasn't the cause of his frown. No, that was reserved for the size of it. An eyeball estimate of the surface are would be somewhere around sixty square kilometers. A respectable sized island to be sure, more than enough for a magical settlement and only possible this quickly thanks to the unnaturally prolific lava flow he had coaxed out of their artificial volcano. Said volcano had actually gained quite a bit in both height and width thanks to the occasional application of spells to leech heat energy out of the magma.

Still, Harry had hoped for more. Greedy of him perhaps, but he wanted the forest he was planning to have as much space as possible. Unfortunately, they couldn't just sit around here and wait for the island to triple in size. Not only would it take too long, but he was leery of leaving it unsupervised for any length of time. True, they had left it alone while they slept, but they had still been right there. Ah well, the possibility of future expansion was always there he supposed.

The very first thing that Harry did was to magically claim ownership of the newly made island. It was an obscure bit of magic that was most commonly applied to old magical residences and such. Hogwarts was also a good example, where such a ritual conferred ownership of the school to the reigning headmaster.

As long as he lived, the island was _his._ No other could lay claim to it, no other could place wards anywhere on it without his permission, no other could give away its Secret to be used in a Fidelius Charm. It didn't give him absolute mastery of the island of course, but it did make it his in a way far more tangible than what normal land ownership conferred.

Next came the full complement of concealing spells, which took another three days of work.

After that was the adding of soil, bare rock not being conducive to the growth of much of anything besides moss and lichen. Harry had assumed at first that there was no law against stealing dirt, but it was not so. Turns out that people actually _do_ steal dirt often enough for there to be a law against it. He was somehow not surprised.

They _could_ have tried to obtain the required dirt by legal means, but that would mean dealing with the mundane world since there was no magical company in the business of selling it. Aside from the logistical difficulties, the hassle of pretending that they didn't have magically expanded chests and the time it would take to get the required amount of dirt ready by mundane means, even formerly-employed-in-elite-law-enforcement Nymphadora Tonks scoffed at the thought of paying for dirt. So it was that remote areas of Scotland, Britain and France found themselves approximately fifty thousand tons of dirt poorer.

Spreading the stuff around took up another couple of days, as well as required repeat dirt raids when they found that they had underestimated how much they'd need.

Harry also had Penny buy up an even dozen tons of dragon shit, which he then mixed into the newly laid soil that would become the heart of the forest. Expensive considering that he was literally buying shit, but he figured that he might as well go for broke.

"Alright, looks like we're almost done." He said with satisfaction, looking over the results of their work.

"Except for the most fun part!" Luna burbled excitedly, tugging on his arm.

"Yes, let's fuck some fertility into the land." Harry joked.

Alas, the fun atmosphere didn't last long. Fleur had decided to participate in the fertility ritual along with them despite Harry's warning and quickly came to regret it. With sexually charged magical energy being almost as important to a veela as food was, a ritual designed to suck it up was a deeply unpleasant experience for her and resulted in them abandoning any further attempts for the rest of the day so that they could 'feed' her.

They did restart the effort to fuck some magic into the land the next day, but Fleur no longer participated.

XXXXX

 _Meanwhile, elsewhere in the world..._

Lord Voldemort, newly restored to physical form, experimentally flexed his hand and considered the situation.

Nearly six years had gone by since his last attempt at returning fully to the living. He'd thought that it hadn't been more than a year at most. Then again, when he had encountered Quirrel after the disaster at Godric's Hollow, he had thought that it couldn't have been more than a year either. One's sense of time was badly distorted in spirit form.

Quirrel...that had been a mistake. He had been so eager to have a body again that he had possessed the man with barely a thought. He should have used him to prepare the Bone-Flesh-Blood ritual and his impatience had cost him dearly.

Lucius' son would be rewarded greatly for the service he had done him, but the news he had brought was more than a bit disconcerting, not to mention infuriating.

While possessing Quirrel, Voldemort had carefully taken notice of the situation in Britain and been tentatively pleased with what his old followers had done. He had still intended to punish them harshly for their failure to seek him out, but they had created fertile ground for his return nonetheless.

Fertile ground that had since been sown with salt and sulfur.

Voldemort had fully expected that Dumbledore would mould the Potter boy in his own image. The old fool knew the prophecy in full and would surely not leave it up to chance.

But young Draco's words indicated otherwise. Potter was not interested in being Dumbledore's tool. Potter was in fact far more like him than Dumbledore. Dumbledore didn't have the stomach to plan out and execute a plan to murder his followers and was too moralistic to throw his reputation around in the political arena so blatantly. Potter had done more damage to Voldemort's cause in a few short years than Dumbledore had managed in decades and it only served to assure him that he had been right to be more wary of the Potter boy than the Longbottom one.

If not for the prophecy, he would have seriously considered trying to recruit him.

But what to do now? Though Voldemort was confident that he could overcome the young upstart, the boy had still become a formidable wizard and not someone to be taken lightly. His followers had already proven unreliable should he need another resurrection, so contingencies would have to be made just in case his body was destroyed again.

That was background stuff however. A more pressing concern was his current lack of followers. Most of his inner circle was either dead or imprisoned, with only a few having escaped Potter's purges. The lower ranks hadn't fared any better. Their identities had been less carefully guarded and Potter had clearly tortured that information out of the higher ranked Death Eaters he had captured.

His power base was gutted and needed to be replenished before he could act openly again. It was time to summon what remained of his followers and see if they had managed to do anything useful while Draco had been doing what they should have done over fifteen years ago.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summer is upon us! The much hated season of sunshine, bugs, sweat and strange bodily odours. I never understood what people liked about this time of year. This chapter would have been out faster if not for the weather killing my will to live.**

 **Many thanks go to Joe Lawyer, who has been an excellent beta and sounding board for the story.**

XXXXX

"Draco, your arm."

Draco eagerly extended his left arm from his kneeling position, displaying the newly branded Dark Mark with pride. That same hand was missing its pinky finger, having sacrificed it to facilitate his lord's rebirth. That had hurt, but it was worth it to have the Dark Lord restored. Worth it for a chance at revenge against Potter.

As Voldemort's new wand was pressed into the Dark Mark and a cold burning spread through it, Draco glanced towards where Goran was standing from the corner of his eye.

The Serbian mercenary had been very helpful in not only finding the Dark Lord's wandering spirit, but also in gathering the ingredients for the ritual. Draco himself had inwardly balked a little when the Dark Lord had, with great difficulty, conveyed his orders to acquire a pregnant muggle woman so that he could take over her unborn baby as a temporary homunculous body, but Goran had simply gone out and done it. That had impressed Draco a great deal, even if the Serbian wizard was only doing it for the money he'd been promised for his continued aid. The two of them had then stolen back into Britain and retrieved the bones of Voldemort's father, bought a temporary wand for him to use until he regained his own and found an old enemy of his from the time of the last war to use as the final part of the ritual.

But while the man had definitely been extremely helpful, it was obvious that he didn't care one whit about purity of blood or the noble cause of the Dark Lord. He was in it for the money, pure and simple.

Draco put the mercenary out of his mind. It was up to the Dark Lord to decide how to handle the man now.

XXXXX

 _Azkaban._

Bellatrix desperately licked away the dirt on her arm, hoping against hope that she wasn't just imagining things this time.

At the sight of the black snake and skull standing out starkly on her pale flesh, Bellatrix started cackling in mad glee.

He was back. The Dark Lord was back.

Her rapture drew in the dementors, but even they couldn't take away the bright spark of hope that now burned inside her.

XXXXX

 _Crouch residence._

Barty Crouch Jr., long held under the Imperius by his father, twitched as the cold burn of the Dark Mark penetrated the mental fog the curse created.

He wasn't free, not even close, but for the first time in over fifteen years, there was something else in his existence aside from the pleasant haze of the Imperius.

XXXXX

 _Hogwarts._

Severus Snape swiftly marched towards the headmaster's office, his pace the only real indication of his worry and consternation. He had not felt the cold burning on his left arm for a long time and it could mean only one thing. Voldemort was back and summoning his followers to him.

He paused to give the stupid candy themed password to the gargoyle guardian and waited impatiently for it to move aside, then continued striding up the stairs.

"Come in, Severus." The words were somewhat redundant, as he was already opening the door by the time the first syllable was spoken.

"He's back." Severus said simply, showing the blackened Dark Mark on his forearm.

Dumbledore seemed to age a decade in a second as he absorbed the news.

"I see." He sighed.

"What should I do?" Severus asked, knowing the older wizard would understand his meaning. It was late June, classes were over and his absence from the school would not be noted.

"We need information." Dumbledore said in that roundabout way he was so fond of.

Severus simply nodded and started making his way out of the castle. He had an old set of robes that he needed to pick up from his home in Spinner's End and then he'd need to make a very long distance Apparition according to the impressions he was getting from the Dark Mark.

XXXXX

Voldemort kept his face impassive as his servants grovelled forward to kiss his robes. He could smell the fear and guilt on them, the guilt of those who had knowingly abandoned their rightful master.

"Welcome, Death Eaters." He hissed quietly once they got back on their feet, taking great satisfaction in watching them squirm. "Fifteen years... fifteen years since we last met and I see you healthy and whole, with your powers intact, but your numbers much reduced. Did you find Potter unwilling to let bygones be bygones?"

They didn't answer the mocking question and kept their heads bowed. Voldemort reached outward with his magic and tasted their old hatreds, old fears and the familiar awe they had for his power. He touched these things in them and drew on them as he had always done. How easily led these proud men were.

"So many dead." He continued softly. "Slippery Lucius, burned to death in broad daylight for all the world to see. Macnair, the Carrows, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle and so many others, stolen away in the night, never to be seen again. Murdered, because they were too faithless to seek out their rightful master!" He finished with a snarl, making them cower back.

"I must wonder, my old friends, where were you all this time? Why did you not help your master, to whom you swore eternal loyalty? Why did young Draco and his mercenary friend have to perform this duty in your place? I must confess myself...disappointed."

He knew what would happen before it did. He could feel the very moment that Avery's nerve broke.

"Master!" The man said desperately, throwing himself on his knees once more. "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

Voldemort laughed in both satisfaction at the display and derision at the presumption.

" _Crucio!_ "

Avery howled in pain and writhed on the ground.

Voldemort released the curse after about ten seconds, leaving the man gasping and shivering on the ground.

"Get up, Avery." He said softly. "You have quite a debt to repay before you earn my forgiveness. Fifteen years of repayment."

Avery struggled to his feet with a breathless nod. Under the circumstances, Voldemort decided to forgive the lack of proper acknowledgement.

"So many dead." He repeated in a whisper, looking at all the empty spaces in the ranks of gathered Death Eaters. "Potter's actions will have to be answered, but your cowardice has allowed him to grow strong. I hear from Draco that he has been doing more than merely killing you, he has also been subverting the Ministry and ripping out the ideals of pure blood by the roots. Tell me, my friends, how are we to take vengeance for our fallen when you have allowed our enemy to gain so much power?"

Voldemort could almost admire what Potter had achieved. Could have admired it, if Potter's success hadn't come at his expense!

It had taken a long time of stirring up resentment, gathering support and removing obstructive people to create the conditions that would have allowed him to take control of Magical Britain, only to have it undone in a mere handful of years. Unlike him, Potter was ideally positioned, able to move openly and act far more overtly and had as a result smashed those decades of work in mere years. He had also apparently seduced Lucius' all too capable widow into his service. Narcissa would pay for that betrayal. Not by his own hand of course, as he had promised Draco to 'save' his mother since the deluded child thought she was under some kind of mind control, but Bella would be more than happy to punish her sister.

But Lord Voldemort was far from beaten. His most loyal supporters were still alive, if likely not well, in Azkaban, along with quite a few others that could be recruited in exchange for their freedom. There was also the surprise survival of Barty Crouch Jr., who he could feel through the Dark Mark was most definitely _not_ in Azkaban.

He did not have the patience for another decades long shadow war, but Potter would yet fall to the might of Lord Voldemort

"Master..." Mulciber spoke up nervously, swallowing when he looked at him. "Master, we have been talking to people, while Draco was looking for you we have been searching for new recruits, with some success."

"So Draco tells me." He replied neutrally. "Very well, tell me of your efforts then."

Mulciber nodded like an eager puppy and started talking.

XXXXX

Goran stood off to the side of the happenings and kept any yawns, eyerolls or snickers to himself. These idiot purebloods and their theatrics...

When it was _finally_ over, the barely human Dark Lord made his way over and the Serbian wizard couldn't help tensing. He'd done some pretty hairy shit over the course of his life, but this one definitely topped the list. On the plus side, the pay was better than the past five years combined.

"You swore no oaths to me, yet you helped Draco restore me and Lord Voldemort does not forget those who help him." The Dark Lord said, creepy red eyes fixed on his own grey ones. "What boon would you ask of me?"

"The blond brat offered me payment to help him carry out your orders, so I helped him. It was just business and that business will be finished as soon as I get my money, no boons necessary." Goran said with a shrug. He wasn't stupid enough to accept any 'boons'.

"An honest mercenary, I can respect that." Voldemort said with a lipless smile. He could tell that the other man was unnerved, but he was holding up admirably. He certainly had more spine than most of his followers. "Yet, I would like to know who paid you to seek Draco out in the first place. I would thank them personally for the aid they gave me." And of course see if more aid could be found there.

"That's not something you ask in my line of work." Goran shrugged again. "I got the job from my usual middleman."

"And I suppose this middleman wouldn't know either?" Voldemort pressed.

"Probably not, he'd either be obliviated after the fact or get the details some other way that can't be tracked, maybe both."

That was unfortunate. This unknown benefactor hiding in the shadows made Voldemort nervous. He doubted very much that they had sent this mercenary to aid in his resurrection out of the kindness of their heart.

Still, he needed all the help he could get and the Serbian wizard was more competent than most.

But Voldemort could sense no true fear or hate that would allow him to find purchase in the man's soul and didn't think that an offer to join his Death Eaters would be accepted. Not yet at least. It wouldn't be the first unlikely wizard that Lord Voldemort had seduced into his service.

"I would hire your services then." He said, wanting to keep the man close until he was made his.

"What kind of job?" Goran asked warily. He'd seen how this dark lord treated his followers and was wary of sticking around.

"At the moment, to get my followers back into fighting shape." Voldemort said, throwing a brief glare at the group of wizards miling off to the side. "These past fifteen years have made them fat and lazy."

Goran considered the offer. It wasn't something he'd done before, but getting paid to play combat instructor sounded easy enough.

"Alright, you've got a deal." He said, holding out his hand.

Voldemort gave another lipless smile as he took the hand.

XXXXX

 _Hogwarts._

"So Voldemort also believes that Harry is the one that has been killing his followers." Dumbledore said musingly.

"Come off it, Headmaster." Snape scoffed. "It is plainly obvious that he is the one."

"We do not know that for certain." Dumbledore argued.

Snape merely rolled his eyes in exasperation. The older wizard's obsessive need for undeniable proof could be damned frustrating. He hadn't always been this way, Snape recalled. Oh, he always liked to have proof, but it had gotten much worse after the debacle of Black's unlawful imprisonment. As if the mutt hadn't deserved it even if he was innocent of the particular crimes he was accussed of.

"What will you do now?" He asked, changing the subject.

Dumbledore frowned in thought. To be quite honest, he wasn't sure about what to do. Voldemort was apparently intending to gather strength at his current location instead of coming to Britain. Wise of him, considering the DMLE's bulked up state at the moment, but it did present a bit of a wrinkle when thinking of ways to act against him.

He would have to speak to Harry and inform him of this development soon. As the subject of the prophecy, he would have to know and it may present an avenue to establish a working relationship with the young Potter.

But he was reluctant to do it. Deep in his heart, Dumbledore knew that it was indeed Harry that was behind the disappearances of purebloods. He had the motive, the means, and as much as it pained the old wizard to admit it, the will.

Dumbledore still hoped that some of Voldemort's followers would see the light like Snape had, especially the younger ones like Draco Malfoy.

Harry...Harry would not give them the chance. No, if Harry had been able to make the first move and attack people during peace time, then he would not hesitate to use lethal magic as a first resort.

Still, Dumbledore was not yet ready to give up on Harry either. After all, he was in a relationship with three lovely women, proving that there was still love in his heart.

"I do believe I shall make an overseas trip to an island." He said musingly. "Would you care to join me?"

It wasn't really a question. Harry might need to be shown Severus' Dark Mark to convince him.

Snape merely sneered in reply.

XXXXX

 _June 29th, 2017. Spellhaven._

Harry was busy today. He had been busy every day for the past couple of weeks since they'd started bringing people over to the island, newly named Spellhaven. It had been slow at first, people being a bit dubious about settling on an uninhabited island, but it had picked up considerably since then. It wasn't just people working for him that were coming over now, but all sorts of others smelling an opportunity.

Harry and the girls had started off helping to prepare the place for habitation, but had since needed to devote themselves to more organisational tasks.

Dora was eager to get started on training fighters, but it was a bit early for that, so she was mostly working with the herbologists they'd hired instead. While the vast majority of the field of Herbology concerned itself with magical plants, there was also quite a bit of general knowledge on flora included. Seeing as there was no reason why the island couldn't have an at least partially self-sustaining food supply, they had decided to set up a few greenhouses. Harry refused to allow anyone to keep cattle because that would take up a significant chunk of 'real' space, but greenhouses could have their internal dimensions extended enormously and thus not infringe on the forest that he wanted to remain untouched. Meat would simply have to be bought elsewhere.

Luna didn't really have any 'fixed' job that she'd taken for herself, but she tended to flit all over the place and poke her nose into whatever interested her at the time. She also continued to alter the landscape of the island so as to make it less 'boring'.

Fleur had ended up acting as a liason for the veela that were intent on establishing one of their communes on the island. They had been the first non-employee group to come over.

Harry had expected that, had been counting on it even. The silver-haired beauties were always on the lookout for prime real-estate and the excitement of Aurélie's pregnancy hadn't faded yet. Fleur's grandmother had decided to move to the island herself in fact. He suspected that to be Fleur's doing.

Either way, he now had a veela colony on his island. That was great for attracting horny young men, but did come with some pitfalls...

"The veela have put forth a request to claim a section of beach exclusively for their commune." Narcissa read from the day's itinerary.

"Greedy little bitches, aren't they?" Harry asked rhetorically. "I didn't mind when they clearly marked their territory because then I don't have to care if anyone that walks past that point gets screwed half to death, but I'm not letting them hog a chunk of beach for themselves."

"I'll let them know." Narcissa replied, lips twitching in amusement.

"Good, and speaking of greedy veela...Penny, give Fleur's budget another increase."

"Again?" Penny asked incredulously. "Just what is she planning to buy?"

Harry could only shrug. His original plan had been to make another tower, only to get berated by Fleur and Dora, backed up by Narcissa when she heard of it. A grim, stone tower was no place to live they said and it would give the wrong impression according to Narcissa.

He didn't really get it, but let them have their way. It wasn't like he actually cared where he lived, as long as it was comfortable and had what he needed. Grim, stone towers just happened to be his preference. He thought they were cool.

Fleur had apparently foreseen this and appointed herself house planner-in-chief of their island residence. Fleur being Fleur, her ideas leaned heavily towards the French. Toss in Narcissa's insistence that it had to reflect his status and they ended up hiring a team of French magical architects to make a rather fancy château. They had fortunately restrained themselves from going completely overboard and making some kind of five hundred room monstrosity, but it was still bigger than strictly necessary to his thinking. That figured since a château was basically a miniature castle for all intents and purposes, minus the outer walls. Now Fleur was going a bit crazy with the interior decorating, which was the main source of the expense.

"Harry, I have to warn you that with the ward experts, herbologists, architects, everyone else you've hired and now this thing with Fleur, we're burning through both pounds and galleons at an alarming rate." Penny cautioned.

"I know, but it can't be helped." Harry replied and shrugged without concern. It was hard to feel threatened by bankruptcy when you were one of the most powerful wizards on the planet. "We'll recoup our losses later." One way or another. He was fairly sure that his bank accounts could take it, but the unsuspecting non-magical world also abounded with opportunities for a skilled and crafty wizard to make a quick fortune in case of an emergency. Something as stupidly simple as repairing spells would do it. Or they could go diving for sunken treasure, locator spells would make that a far less random undertaking than it sounded like. And that wasn't even going into anything illegal.

"And while we're on the topic of gold, Gringotts has sent another meeting request, although this one is worded even more like a demand than the others."

"Fucking goblins." Harry muttered.

He'd brushed off two of those 'requests' so far, mostly because he wasn't sure what to do about them. He knew exactly what the goblins wanted, they wanted reassurance that their banking monopoly would apply to his island.

Harry knew what he'd _like_ to do about that. He'd like to tell the goblins to piss off. Unfortunately, it wasn't that simple. That idiotic banking monopoly was backed by international treaty and the ICW was legally bound to enforce it. North and South America had bucked it, but that had taken a lot of bloodshed and continued to cause diplomatic friction to this day.

Of course, his island poignantly _wasn't_ an independent nation, nor did it fall under the jurisdiction of any existing government, making it a legal grey area. However, if the ICW decided that it was in their best interests to back the goblins on this, then he would have to choose between accepting it or flipping off the ICW.

Much like its mundane counterpart, the United Nations, the International Confederation of Wizards was a slothful beast bogged down by conflicting agendas, but giving it a clear enemy was very dangerous. The only reason the Americans got away with their defiance was because the ICW had at the time been engaged in a long and bloody campaign to bring Asia's magi to heel, having judged them to be the greater threat to the newly legislated Statute of Secrecy. By the time that had been finished, the American wizards were too numerous and too organised for the ICW to consider them worth challenging for the sake of the goblins.

The whole thing was quite stupid really because magic hadn't even been a secret in most of Asia back then and it had worked for them just fine, but the leaders of the ICW hadn't cared to consider the cultural differences and simply declared that their rules applied world wide.

But getting back to the topic of Spellhaven, it wasn't as if Harry was planning to create his own currency. No, he was perfectly fine with goblin gold being used, he just didn't want actual goblins anywhere near his island. For all he knew they procreated via fungal spores or something, like the Orks in Warhammer. It wasn't very likely, but no sense in taking risks. After all, when was the last time someone saw a goblin female?

"Is there anything from the ICW?" He asked.

"Not exactly." Penny said with a frown, pulling up a letter and handing it to him.

"Dumbledore?" Harry's eyebrow went up in surprise. Sure, Dumbledore was the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW(and wasn't that an asinine title?), but he wasn't likely to be the one to handle the goblin issue. Indeed, this was more of a personal request from an old teacher that wanted to see how a former student was doing. Problem was, he and Dumbledore had never been that close, which gave the otherwise pleasant letter a sinister undertone.

A sense of foreboding settled into Harry's bones. Yes, he had a good guess as to what this was about. He hadn't dared keep one of Voldemorts marked followers alive, knowing that the Dark Mark could be used much in the same way as a tracking charm and expose his secret stronghold on Ymer Island, but Dumbledore had a pet Death Eater in Snape, didn't he? If the Dark Lord was back, the old man would know almost instantly.

 _I suppose the tutorial is over._ He thought with a certain dark amusement.

"Give him an affirmative reply." Harry said, handing the letter back to Penny.

"What about the goblins?"

"Ignore them, they're just posturing. As long as we use Gringotts coin as currency, they have no business complaining."

"Alright." Penny nodded. "Well, that's all I had for the day, so I'll leave you two alone."

The hint of a blush on her face made Harry smirk. Sometimes, he just couldn't help thinking that Penny was far too sweet a girl to be working for a bastard like him.

"I do believe she was expecting me to ravish you as soon as she left." He mused, turning his smirk at the blond witch.

"That is your prerogative, my lord." Narcissa said demurely, but a hint of excitement made it through her composed mask.

"Hmm, maybe later. Tell me what other problems people have been causing today."

Narcissa took a deep breath, obviously tamping down on her arousal. Obvious to him at any rate. "Well, there have been a few complaints about the werewolves you've allowed to settle on the island."

"What kind of complaints?" Harry asked, wondering if one or more of the werewolves had done something stupid.

"Merely concerns about their presence and how safe it is."

"Every precaution has been taken to prevent accidental infection. The only way for anyone to get infected is through either malicious action or unforgivable levels of stupidity and the werewolves we've allowed here aren't malicious." Harry said irritably. "Tell them to stop being a bunch of whiny shits."

"People won't like it." Narcissa warned.

"And I don't like having my time wasted. Next issue."

"Very well, next we have an inquiry from several prospective residents asking if their muggle relatives could also come."

Harry pensively rubbed his chin as he answered, noting that he needed to shave again. "I don't have anything against it in principle, but the lifestyle change would be severe... then again, I suppose they can always change their minds and leave if they find that they don't like it."

Once upon a time, Narcissa would have objected strenuously to having muggles anywhere near the island, but now she simply nodded her acceptance and moved on. "You also have a letter from Fudge. He wants to throw a Ministry fundraiser next month, on your birthday."

Harry simply stared at Narcissa for a long few moments and then shook his head with a sigh. "That man..."

Sometimes, Fudge was like a newly hatched duckling waddling desperately after its mother.

"Tell him to come over, on the same day as Dumbledore if at all possible. Might as well handle all this shite at once." He said with a sigh and got up to stare out the window.

His study was on the top of one of the corner towers and afforded him a perfect view of the rapidly growing settlement below, which was also called Spellhaven due to a minor misunderstanding that nobody had bothered to correct.

Harry didn't show it, but he sometimes had second thoughts about this course of action. His natural inclination would be to move to Ravenhead permanently and leave the troubles of the world behind. Let Voldemort and Dumbledore sort each other out, dangerous idiots the both of them.

But, and it was a big but, he couldn't do that even without the prophecy hanging over his head. Luna, Fleur and Dora would never agree to it. And they'd want children eventually, children that would need other people to interact with. He could already see the speculative look in Fleur's eyes when she looked at her pregnant grandmother. Even Dora looked thoughtful sometimes and there was really no telling what mischief Luna was plotting.

Harry didn't have many fears left, but that was kind of scary. It also meant that going into isolation wasn't an option.

He snorted lightly to himself. As if going into isolation had ever been an option. With the runes he'd carved into his body, his libido would quickly drive him crazy without constant release. The funniest part of that was that he was pretty sure that his natural libido would have been on the low end of the scale.

Narcissa stepped next to him, close enough that the swell of her breast pressed against his arm, which was really far too close to be considered anything but a come-on.

"It's going well." She commented, gesturing out the window.

Harry gave a noncommittal humm in response. Yes, it was going well and more importantly, creating Spellhaven was the best course of action available given the circumstances.

XXXXX

After showing Narcissa how much he appreciated what she did for him, Harry made his way towards Luna. His youngest girlfriend was currently far from the quickly forming settlement and he wanted to know what she was up to. This was the third day in a row that she had vanished further inland for hours at a time. He'd thought at first that she was just messing around with the geography, but now he wasn't sure anymore.

A quick apparition to somewhere more private allowed him to transform into a raven without exposing that little secret and then he was off, flying towards where the blood-bound bracelet indicated Luna was.

He could have just apparated all the way there, but he liked to see how the island's ecosystem was fairing.

The dirt they'd taken might not have looked like much when they had spread it over the island, but it teemed with life. The fertility rituals they'd performed had encouraged that life to grow rapidly. Tall grass had grown overnight and whatever other seeds they'd scooped up along with the dirt had taken root since then as well. There weren't too many trees yet, but those that were already looked a couple of years old rather than the weeks that they actually were. It wouldn't be long before a proper forest grew.

More importantly, there were already indications that it would be an enchanted forest rather than a regular one.

Forests had a strange relationship with magic. Trees were never magical themselves due to the magic channeling properties of wood. However, that property also meant that magic in forests didn't dissipate like it would otherwise. From what Harry had been able to gather, the Void constantly siphoned magic away from the planet, but a dense enough forest pulled it back and returned it to the earth before that could happen.

In this regard, most forests were at least slightly magical, but for a forest to be considered _enchanted,_ there had to be a sufficient saturation of magical energy for magical plants and animals to start showing up.

Harry had already noticed the occasional flower or weed that was definitely magical and Luna had reported seeing a fairy a few days ago, so things were definitely on the right track. He was still going to insist on performing some more fertility rituals day though, just to be sure. It took a lot of magic to saturate a forest, even a relatively small one.

He found Luna at the approximate center of the island, pretty much at the exact spot where they had performed the first fertility ritual in fact. The volcano they'd raised loomed a small distance to the north and a transfigured lake basin filled with tranquil water sat nearby. The grass around this place was as tall as him and the few trees that had taken root were more than twice that already.

Luna was in a miniature clearing close to one of said trees and she was...humming a lullaby to a large plant pod of some sort?

"What you got there?" He asked, bemused.

Luna gave him a beaming smile. "We made a baby!"

"What?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Listen to it, Harry!" Luna advised excitedly.

Still quite baffled, Harry squated next to the pod and reached out to touch the strong, yet strangely pliable, walls. Now that he was paying attention, he could sense a powerful, but also very subtle, magic radiating from it. With some trepidation, he closed his eyes and shut out the physical world.

Some seconds later, his eyes snapped open in surprise. There was a soul inside the pod that was far too complex to belong to a simple plant, even a magical one. A nascent sentience, possibly even sapience, was growing within. The pod was the plant equivalent of a womb.

"I'll be damned." He breathed out. "When did you find it?"

"Just a few days ago." Luna answered, still smiling. Then she went back to humming.

Harry had a feeling that no amount of arguing was going to convince Luna that it wasn't their baby. Additionally, as was often the case with her, she wasn't wrong. This was no doubt the result of the fertility rituals they'd performed, so it was, technically, if you squinted, their baby.

"I wonder how Fleur and Dora are going to react to this." He sighed.

XXXXX

 _A short while later._

"I really hope this isn't going to be a running theme with you." Dora sighed, staring at the pod.

"Hey, you can't blame this one all on me." Harry protested.

The metamorphmagus gave him a look that said that she could, in fact, blame it all on him.

"He's right." Luna backed him up. "We all contributed to making our plant baby."

"I wonder what it's going to look like." Fleur said, clearly very amused.

"It doesn't matter, we'll love it no matter what." Luna said resolutely. "That means you can't experiment on it, Harry."

"I'll stick to uninvasive experiments." Harry agreed dryly.

XXXXX

 _Spellhaven. July 1st, 2017._

Dumbledore and Snape steadied themselves after the long-distance portkey provided by Harry deposited them at its destination. Fawkes flamed in a few moments later and settled on Dumbledore's shoulder.

"Curious choice for a portkey arrival area." Albus mused, looking around with interest.

Severus didn't reply, but he agreed with the sentiment. It was little more than an empty spot a short distance outside the settlement. Rather odd, as designated portkey or Apparition arrival areas were usually somewhere inside the actual settlement. In truth, this looked more like a temporary measure more than anything else.

They didn't get a chance to take in the sights much more than that, as the welcoming party arrived with the crack of Apparition.

"Severus." Narcissa greeted with genuine warmth in her voice, no doubt deliberately snubbing Dumbledore by addressing him first. The youngest Black sister had always been subtle like that. "I didn't know you were coming."

"The Headmaster insisted." Severus said sourly, though a hint of fondness shone through. Narcissa had been a friend of sorts during his Hogwarts years, a higher year prefect that had occasionally protected him from the pranks of the so-called 'Marauders'. Learning that she had ended up being the Potter spawn's mistress after Lucius' death had done nothing to soothe the anger he felt.

"I see." Narcissa said simply, giving Dumbledore a thinly veiled look of disapproval. "And you've brought your bird too."

"I think Fawkes wanted to see Harry again." Albus beamed, as if he hadn't noticed that he had been snubbed twice already.

Fawkes chirped as if to confirm it.

"Very well then." Narcissa sniffed. "Come, I will take you to Lord Potter."

Then she snubbed Dumbledore again by taking Severus' arm and ignoring the old wizard behind them.

"How have you been, Severus?" She asked warmly.

Severus was baffled. What had happened to the ice-cold Narcissa he was used to?

"I've been well." He lied. He hadn't been well for a long time, if ever, but that wasn't what people wanted to hear. "And yourself?"

"Never better." Narcissa said brightly. "I never even realised what I was missing until I entered my lord's service."

Severus tried not to stiffen with the anger he felt at the mention of Potter.

Judging by the way Narcissa's grip on his arm tightened, he hadn't succeeded.

"I know you have every reason to hate James Potter, but believe me when I say that the son is nothing like the father. Harry has never done anything to you."

He was a disrespectful, arrogant shit and a living reminder that James bloody Potter had stolen Lily from him. That was enough.

But he didn't say that, not wanting to snap at one of the few people in this world that he could consider a friend.

"He killed your husband." He said instead.

"Of course he did. Lucius sent an assassin after him and the head of a powerful family, much less two, cannot allow himself to appear vulnerable lest he invite attack. Harry had no choice but to respond with deadly force if he wanted to slay any budding plots against him." Narcissa said dismissively. "Lucius may have been my husband, but he was a fool who overreached himself in his greed."

Severus might be a halfblood descended from a middle class pureblood family on his mother's side, but the internal politicking of Slythering House wasn't that much different from the games the noble families played, only the consequences were less deadly. Still, he wasn't willing to concede anything where Potter was concerned.

"What about Draco?"

Narcissa sighed and looked a little sad. "I will always love my son, but he is even less wise than his father was. He refuses to acknowledge that Lucius dug his own grave or the grace and generosity that Harry showed us afterwards."

Severus was starting to get pretty ticked off by the continual praise that Narcissa was heaping on Harry fucking Potter.

Albus may have been pretending that he didn't exist, but he had also been listening to every word and knew that it was time to cut cut in before Severus' temper snapped. Fortunately, he spied the large frame and black ponytail of the wizard they were here to see. The invisible mantle of power and authority hanging about his shoulders as he spoke to a group of what appeared to be warders was unmistakable.

"Oh, is that Harry over there?" He interjected in a carefully manufactured oblivious tone.

"Indeed it is." Narcissa said and quickened her pace towards him, forcing the two wizards to do the same or be left behind.

Albus saw the moment that Harry became aware of them in the minute tensing of his shoulders and the sudden sense of watchfulness that he could feel from his magic, but Harry kept his back turned and waited for Narcissa to address him. The younger wizard's perception had grown considerably since their last meeting.

Albus quickly took in the four parallel scars decorating the whole left side of Harry's face. Remus had not known where he'd gotten them, only that it was in the same incident that had taken Sirius' life. Magical Britain was rife with rumors about what had happened, but neither Harry nor any of the three young women he was romantically involved with were saying a word.

"You're early." Harry said flatly, giving a quick dismissal to the people he'd been talking to.

"I wanted to take in the sights on this lovely island of yours before we spoke." Albus said with a cheery smile.

"Is that why you brought Snape with you?" Harry asked mockingly. "Hoping that the Atlantic air would blow away his bitterness?"

"Potter." Severus sneered back, the mocking tone immediately getting his goat. "As arrogant as ever."

" _More_ arrogant than ever." Harry corrected. "And Fawkes is here too I see. Did you get bored hanging around the old man's office, you gaudy grilled chicken?"

Fawkes gave an indignant squawk and flew over to cuff Harry over the head with a wing.

"Heh, you haven't loosened up a bit." Harry said fondly. "Since you're here, I might as well introduce you to Etal. I've always wondered how you two would get along."

Albus wouldn't admit it, but he'd been rather curious about that himself, which was why he'd asked Fawkes to come with him.

Mere seconds after Harry hissed at the air in Parseltongue, the shimmering form of the quetzalcoatl zoomed in at high speed. The creature immediately started floating circles around Fawkes, clearly curious.

Fawkes didn't seem to appreciate the attention and flamed a short distance away. The quetzalcoatl zoomed after him immediately, prompting the phoenix to flame away again. Thus began the strangest game of tag the world had ever seen.

"Well, they seem to be getting along." Harry said blandly, watching the two mythical creatures chase each other across the sky.

"Indeed." Albus agreed with a smile. It was nice to see Fawkes having fun.

"Can we get on with this?" Severus growled, having no interest in watching the ridiculous spectacle and wanting to get away from Potter as soon as possible.

"Right, sure." Harry drolled and turned to Narcissa. "Thank you for bringing them to me, Cissy."

"It was my pleasure, my lord." Narcissa all but purred, much to Severus' disbelief, and quite deliberately brushed up against Potter as she left.

Somehow, seeing Narcissa clearly enjoying her position as Potter's subordinate and mistress annoyed Severus more than if she had been suffering.

"Come on then, this looks like the type of conversation that needs privacy." Potter said and started walking without giving either him or Albus time to acknowledge it.

That didn't lessen Severus' irritation either.

Albus decided to aleviate the tension with some conversation.

"I was sorry to hear of Sirius' death." He said with genuine remorse. Their relationship may have been strained due to Sirius' admittedly justified resentment at his unlawful imprisonment, but he had been a friend and student once.

Severus snorted. Hearing that the mutt was dead had made his week. Still, his snort was quiet and he did not speak the cutting remark that lay on his tongue. Whatever else Potter might be, he wasn't some mediocre wizard that could be provoked with impunity and Severus was acutely aware of the lack of legal protection from reprisal he had on this island.

"He died the way he wanted to, that's more than most people get." Harry shrugged.

Albus was about to say something else, but was beaten to the punch by a blonde missile that seemingly came out of nowhere.

"Harry!" Luna squealed happily and threw herself into the aforementioned wizard's arms.

"Oof!" Harry grunted as he caught her, needing to take a few steps back to stabilise himself. "Luna, didn't I ask you to stop doing this?"

"You did." Luna confirmed chirpily, gave him a peck on the lips and turned to the other two wizards. "Hello, Professor Snape!"

Severus was taken aback by the enthusiastic greeting. His former students were _never_ glad to see him.

"Ms. Lovegood." He replied cautiously, feeling rather nonplussed. Teaching the girl had been...an experience. Oh, she was clever enough, but she was also infuriatingly moonbrained. Even worse, any insults or rebukes about her wandering attention seemed to simply pass through her ears with no effect. It didn't look like she'd changed at all.

"Hello, Headmaster Dumbledore!" Luna greeted the other visitor.

Albus was much more willing to simply take the situation in stride. "Ms. Lovegood. I must say that we missed you during the last OWL examinations. The Ministry examiners were particularly interested in seeing the results of being homeschooled by Harry."

"We were busy transfiguring the island." Luna replied. "Do you think they would give me extra points on my Transfiguration exam for that?"

"I'm sure they would." Albus assured.

Luna clambered around Harry's body like a squirrel until she was on his back, with her legs wrapped around his waist.

"Fleur and Nymphadora should already be at the château." She informed him.

Harry made a noise of confirmation and resumed walking.

Albus instinctively wanted to protest about the addition of the three girls to a meeting where sensitive information was going to be discussed, but held his tongue. They were clearly Harry's most trusted confidants and would likely be told afterwards even if they weren't present.

Severus had any number of things he wanted to comment on, but also held his tongue.

So they made the walk in silence. Well, silence except for Luna chattering at Harry from his back.

XXXXX

The drawing room was one of the rooms that Fleur had already furnished and was thus ready to receive guests. Harry and his girls were sitting together on a couch, with the two visiting wizards across from them and a low table with tea and snacks in between them.

Severus was feeling entirely out of place enjoying the hospitality of a Potter.

"Your letter said you wanted to talk, so...talk." Harry said, sipping his tea.

"The Dark Lord has been resurrected." Severus said while baring his left arm, pettily hoping to make Potter choke on his tea.

"Mm," Harry replied placidly, giving the fully blackened Dark Mark no more than a disinterested glance. "good tea."

"You already know." Albus concluded, trying not to smile at Severus's disgruntled expression.

"I guessed when you sent me that letter." Harry shrugged. "So, who's the idiot that helped Voldy get his body back?"

Albus did not want to paint a target on Draco Malfoy's back. "That isn't really important, I was hoping-"

"Still trying to protect Death Eaters, old man?" Harry interrupted archly.

"I have never protected Death Eaters." Albus defended.

Harry looked pointedly at Snape.

"Severus acted as a spy and has my complete trust. Regardless, I was hoping that we could work together and-"

"Do you always try to change the subject when it's something you're not comfortable with?" Harry interrupted again.

Albus was getting a mite frustrated by this conversation, but didn't let it show. "Harry, please. We cannot afford to be at odds with Voldemort having returned."

"Fine then, keep the idiot's name secret." Harry said dismissively. "I'm sure I'll be able to torture it out of some other idiot soon enough anyway."

"What?" Albus asked, badly startled by the horribly blunt statement.

"Did you think I was kidnapping Death Eaters to have tea and crumpets with them?" Harry asked, amused. "And don't look so damn shocked either. I'm sure you must have suspected that it was me doing it. I may not have left any evidence behind, but I was the obvious culprit."

Albus felt every one of his years when he looked at the hard green eyes of the wizard sitting across from him, gleaming with a cruel humor. Harry wasn't even seventeen yet.

"I had hoped it wasn't true." He said quietly.

Severus snorted quietly to himself.

"There's a prophecy hanging over my neck like an executioner's axe. I wasn't going to wait until it fell."

"I see." Albus said heavily. "I had often wondered if it was a mistake letting you know the prophecy so early. I should have known better than to put such a burden on a child's shoulders."

Fleur had stayed quiet so far and kept her temper in check, but that was too much for her.

"How dare you sit there and pass judgement, you sanctimonious old bastard." She seethed. "If you weren't so completely useless then Harry wouldn't have needed to get his hands dirty cleaning up _your_ messes!"

Albus was taken aback by the sheer _rage_ coming from the veela. And he didn't even understand where it was coming from.

It didn't go unnoticed either.

"You don't even know what she's talking about, do you?" Dora asked in disbelief, though her tone was rapidly turning to disgust. "I can't believe I used to respect you. You've been doing nothing but sitting on your arse and you have the gall to try that disappointed grandfather routine on Harry for actually doing something? If you were actually the greatest wizard of the age, you would have wrapped up this Voldemort situation before Harry ever made it to Hogwarts. Actually no, if you were actually the greatest wizard of the age, you would have taken care of Tom Riddle when he first started killing, _right under your bloody nose_! There wouldn't have ever been a Voldemort."

"If you look at it another way, he did us a favor by being so weak." Luna piped up. "Putting aside his failure to act decisively decades ago, If he'd done his job properly in the wake of Voldemort's defeat, Sirius would never have gone to Azkaban and Harry would have grown up with him."

"And no doubt become just as big a waste of space as the mutt." Severus interjected with a sneer, unable to help himself.

Dora swelled with outrage at the insult to her recently deceased cousin, but Luna simply continued. "Harry would no doubt be different, yes. He might not have become my friend and if Headmaster Dumbledore had taken care of the Death Eaters, he might not have become strong enough in time to interest Fleur even if there was a Tri-Wizard Tournament to bring her to Britain in this alternative timeline. And of course, he would have grown up with Nymphadora as his family and probably wouldn't want to put his penis in her vagina. So you see, it's entirely possible that we wouldn't get to have such wonderful orgies if the Headmaster wasn't useless."

"Fuck!" Dora swore, breaking the silence that had followed in the wake of Luna's little speech. She turned to look at Fleur. "She's right. And if I didn't start boinking Harry, there's no telling who I'd have ended up with. My taste in men was never the greatest, so I might have actually hooked up with Remus Lupin or something."

"Don't say such horrible things, Nymmie. That walking pity-party would have made you miserable." Fleur shuddered before looking at Dumbledore with her upper lip curled in disgust. "Very well, so it seems likely that we girls have profitted greatly from your incompetence, but do not think for a moment that you have any kind of moral high ground. Even in the case of Harry hunting and killing Death Eaters, the onus sits largely on _your_ shoulders. It was your job, not only as Chief Warlock but also as Voldemort's primary enemy, to bring them to justice. Instead, you allowed them to weasel their way out of punishment and let them go free, forcing _us_ to get rid of them before they could rejoin their master."

"The wizarding world needed time to heal." Albus argued weakly, completely unaccustomed to being torn into so viciously. It hadn't happened since Aberforth had broken his nose at their sister's funeral, well over a century ago.

"An infected wound doesn't heal, it festers." Harry said flatly "Still, I have to give credit where credit is due... thank you, Albus, for messing up my childhood just enough to give me a lust for power, but not enough to break my spirit or make me hate the world. Also, thank you for being limp-wristed enough in the wake of Voldemort's defeat that I was forced to become a killer. Nothing puts some steel in a man's spine like fighting for his life, if he survives. I must admit that I wouldn't trade my girls and my power for an easier life if I had the choice."

Albus was by this point quite ashen-faced and wondering at how wrong this meeting had gone. He had envisioned coming here and convincing Harry that they should work together against Voldemort, finding and disposing of his horcruxes. Of course, there was still the issue of the horcrux in Harry's scar, but if all went according to plan, then Harry would either die at Voldemort's hand, making the Dark Lord mortal again, or he would win and something else would have to be arranged.

Getting taken to task like this wasn't part of the plan. Even worse was Harry _thanking_ him for creating the conditions that shaped him into the hard-eyed killer he was now. Anger would have been so much easier to deal with.

Severus had been listening quietly up to now, but that final sentence was too much.

"Yes, because your life is clearly so very difficult." He said sarcastically. "Wealth, power, women, your own island...should we crown you king of the world as well?"

Harry merely smirked, knowing it would annoy Snape more than any kind of emotional outburst. "Those things make life pleasant, but not necessarily easy."

Severus could only sneer, having no real response.

"Are you saying that we make your life hard?" Dora asked archly.

"Well, we know that there's at least one part of him that we make hard." Fleur purred with a salacious grin, reaching over to rub Harry's crotch.

"Down, girl." Harry murmured, taking her hand in his and returning his attention to the still troubled-looking Dumbledore. "So we've established that Voldemort is back and that you're going to be useless as usual when it comes to killing him and his minions, did you at least find any of his horcruxes like I told you to?"

And Albus was startled once again. Since when did Harry know about horcruxes? He had of course known of the concept from his muggle fiction, but he could only have learned the word 'horcrux' from some very dark literature... _Ah, the Black library._

"I have some ideas..." Albus prevaricated.

"Do share." Harry said drolly, not really expecting much.

"I have managed to narrow down the list of people who might have spoken to the young Tom Riddle on the topic of horcruxes, he may have some information for us."

"And who is this person?"

Albus felt a sudden foreboding at the look in Harry's eye, and fear for old Horace Slughorn's life. "Harry, if I tell you his name, you must promise me that you will not treat this man like a Death Eater."

"As long as he isn't a Death Eater or a Voldemort supporter himself." Harry agreed easily. "But if he isn't a Death Eater, then why haven't you already extracted this information from him? Surely he'd want to see Voldemort defeated?"

"He fears retaliation." Albus explained.

"I'm shocked that he's still alive." Harry scoffed. "If I was Voldemort, I'd have killed him ages ago to plug a possible information leak. Rather stupid of the Dark Moron."

That was most likely exactly what would have happened...if Horace hadn't spent the entirety of the war hiding in Hogwarts.

"In any case, I was thinking that the two of us would visit him and convince him to share what he knows."

"And why do you need me there?" Harry asked skeptically. "Is Albus Dumbledore incapable of persuading someone to give up vital information?"

"I think that your fame may be more effective than my skills of persuasion." Albus admitted.

Harry went quiet as he considered that. Now who did he know that was male, drawn to fame and old enough to have been around during Tom Riddle's Hogwarts years? In fact, it would have to be a former Hogwarts professor, wouldn't it? That was the only place that Tom Riddle had contact with the magical world before he graduated.

"Slughorn." Harry stated rather than asked.

"Yes." Albus admitted, reluctantly.

"Looks like I'll be paying Sluggy a visit after all or better yet, I'll invite him over."

"I think it would be best if I was present for that meeting." Despite Harry's word not to treat Horace like a Death Eater, Albus was not comfortable letting him go alone.

"Fine. Now on to other topics. Do you have any leads to the other horcruxes?"

"Mere suspicions." Albus admitted. "I know that Tom went to work in Burgin and Burkes after he graduated and exhibited a fascination with old artifacts. I am also nearly certain he was involved in the death of Hepzibah Smith, who had Hufflepuff's Cup and Slytherin's Locket in her possesion at the time and made frequent visits to the shop."

 _Ah, so it was Slytherin's Locket that I destroyed. Interesting._ Harry decided not to share that bit of information. Snape certainly didn't need to know about it and Dumbledore still hadn't proven that he could play ball.

"So your theory is that he went after the other founder's artifacts too? Ravenclaw's Diadem and Gryffindor's Sword?" He asked. Both artifacts had vanished from the public eye nearly a thousand years ago.

"Tom was always obsessed with symbolism and, as I said, he was fascinated by old magical artifacts." Albus reasoned.

 _The diary as the first attempt, the test run, and then the four founder's artifacts would make five, plus the one in my scar and Voldy himself makes seven. Sounds plausible._ Seven was considered magically important as a number, so a symbolism obsessed twat would probably find that appropriate. In truth, all the prime numbers were equally important where magic was concerned, but only as it pertained to arithmancy. Rituals, enchantments and even spells tended to be more stable if the number of control nodes making them up was a prime number. That was also why magical complexity had such an irregular difficulty curve. Seven was just that sweet spot where magic was plenty powerful but not yet terribly complex.

 _But I wasn't supposed to be a horcrux, which means he either hadn't yet made six at that point or he intended to split his soul more than seven ways. Either way, we're missing at least one item._ Harry was absolutely certain that his murder was supposed to serve as the catalyst for the creation of a horcrux. Pieces of soul don't simply fly off by themselves after all, no matter how fragmented said soul is already. His mother's sacrificial ritual and Voldemort violating the pact he had unknowingly agreed to when he killed her must have played merry hell with the nearly complete process of horcrux creation.

In truth, Harry had only educated guesswork as to how exactly that piece of soul had ended up attached to him. Both his mother's ritual and horcrux creation were Death Magic, the latter also being Soul Magic. Toss in a direct hit with the Killing Curse, which was the purest expression of cold-blooded murder that magic was capable of manifesting...

Harry had long since learned that what a person did or had done to them reflected on their soul. The act of taking life was especially significant, as it was an ending, and both beginnings and endings were magically important. There had been an awful lot of endings focused on or around him that day and the soul of a year-old baby was much more susceptible to external influence than that of an adult.

It was also entirely possible that Voldemort didn't know about the scar horcrux, in which case he was likely to go for at least one more...if seven really was his goal.

Harry decided to needle Dumbledore a little.

"So, a soul split into six pieces? Seems a strange number. Seven seems much more likely for a wizard obsessed with symbolism."

"True." Albus conceded, hiding his slight nervousness masterfully.

"And given his penchant for theatrics, I would think that Voldemort could hardly resist commemorating His triumph over the prophecy with something special. My murder on that night would have been the ideal opportunity to make his final horcrux, wouldn't you say?"

Albus desperately wanted to switch to a safer subject, but that would look too suspicious.

"Yes, that does sound likely." He admitted calmly, still letting none of his feelings show.

"Is there anything else I should know?" Harry pressed, his expression inscrutable.

Albus recognised the tactic. He often used it himself. This knowing act got people to spill their secrets more often than not. He had never epxected to have it used on himself, but nothing about this meeting had gone according to plan. Harry simply did not allow him to take the lead in the conversation and his ladies had jumped down his throat at the first attempt of emotional manipulation.

Still, he couldn't tell Harry that he was a horcrux. This Harry would never agree to die for the greater good.

"No, but I did have a favor to ask."

"Oh?"

"Sirius told you about the Order of the Phoenix?" Albus asked and continued when he received a nod of confirmation. "Now that Voldemort has returned, I am reconvening it, but we have no appropriate place to use as headquarters. I was hoping that you would allow us the use of one of your unused properties for this purpose."

Not for the first time, Harry was kind of impressed by the gall of the man. Dumbledore didn't even seem to realise what an utter bastard he was being.

"What's in it for me?" He asked cooly.

Albus blinked in surprise at the question.

"You want to be paid for allowing use to use one of your properties?" He asked with a hint of incredulity. Albus well remembered Harry's rather mercenary attitude, but surely working towards the demise of Voldemort was payment in and of itself?

"Yes, but not in gold. If you are going to be using one of my buildings for your bird club, then you will share your information with me, and I mean _all_ your information."

"You could simply join the Order." Albus suggested.

He did not expect the derisive laugh he got in return.

"And place myself under your inept leadership?" Harry asked, still chuckling. "The only way I would join the Order of the Phoenix is if you made me its leader."

Severus had needed to bite down on his scathing remarks several times already, but this was too much. The sheer arrogance in Potter's statement had him jumping to his feet.

But he hadn't counted on the stunner from Tonks that sent him flying into unconsciousness. The metamorphmagus had been aching to blast the greasy potions master ever since his comment about Sirius and his reaction had just given her the perfect excuse.

Harry had felt the hostility brewing in the air for some time and jumped to his feet almost at the same time as Snape, but his target was Dumbledore. He practically threw the coffee table and everything on it against the wall in his haste to close the distance between them.

One of Dumbledore's most well hidden, but also most crippling, failings was his lack of adaptability. He was a creature of information and careful planning and did not do well when faced with the unexpected.

The sudden explosion of violence caught him completely off guard as a result and while he did reflexively jump to his feet and snap the Elder Wand into his hand, it wasn't nearly fast enough to matter. His right wrist was caught in an iron grip and Harry's other hand yanked painfully on his beard.

"Now that we've dispensed with the artifice, we can get to the truth." Harry said softly, staring Dumbledore in the eye from a distance of no more than a dozen inches.

He didn't know if he could beat the old wizard in a straight fight, but combat skill with magic meant nothing at this distance.

"There really is no need for this, Harry." Albus insisted, trying to project as much calm as possible.

"I wonder, when exactly were you intending to tell me that I was a horcrux?"

Albus' eyes widened in shock.

"You know?" He whispered.

"Of course I fucking know." Harry scoffed. "You think I wouldn't notice a chunk of someone else's soul attached to me? I expelled that filth years ago."

"Truly?" Albus asked, not even bothering to conceal the naked hope in his tone.

"Yes, truly, now listen up." Harry growled and gave the beard another yank. "I can appreciate the position you were in with a toddler horcrux on your hands. The pragmatic thing would have been to kill me then and there, however ghoulish killing toddlers is. I don't know what half-baked plan you had to take care of that. Maybe you were hoping someone else would kill me so that you wouldn't have to bloody your hands. Maybe you were just delaying in the hope that some miracle solution would present itself. It somehow worked out this time, so I'm willing to let it go, but if you _ever_ cook up another plot to direct my life in any way, shape or form, I will kill you. Understand?"

There was something strange about that. Albus had fully expected furious anger in response to the secrecy and the plot to arrange his death, but Harry seemed oddly unbothered by that. In fact, it sounded almost like a chastisement for not killing him as a baby. Harry appeared far more upset about the attempt to manipulate his actions, however little of that Albus had managed.

Harry was almost right. While he had indeed hoped for some miracle solution to the horcrux problem, his primary reason for meddling with Harry's life had been because of the prophecy. He had known that Harry would play a critical role in the conflict and done his best to facilitate a victory for their side while also making sure that Harry would die doing it.

Regardless, there was really only one answer that Albus could give given the situation he found himself in. Fortunately it was an answer he was happy to give now that the impossible situation with the scar horcrux had been resolved. "I understand."

"Good, now on to your Order of the Phoenix. I will let you use the old Black residence at 12 Grimmauld Place, but know this, Dumbledore; this is my war. _You_ made it my war, with your soft touch and your dawdling and delaying and indecisiveness, and it's too late to play at being the general now. To be quite blunt, Dumbledore, you are a has-been, a leftover from a story that ended decades ago. Do whatever you want with your little band of vigilantes, but don't get in my way."

The words were harsh and something in Albus' chest tightened painfully. Not because of the words themselves, no, but because Harry had clearly dedicated himself to seeing this through. It was what he had schemed towards since first seeing the reclusive and disconnected lad in his first year, but it still pained him to look into the hard green eyes and see the killer that Harry had become. This wasn't what he had wanted for Harry, he wasn't even seventeen.

"What will you do when Voldemort is defeated?" He asked softly, fearing what would happen to Harry once he no longer had a well-defined enemy to fight. Even the presence of the three women in his life was not so reassuring now, when they did not object to this sudden violence.

"You really need to stop obsessing about my relationship with that stupid fucker. Both you and he have, knowingly or unknowingly, tried to define my life with that prophecy as the fulcrum sitting in the middle, but I'm not interested in either of your delusions. If I wanted to be a dark lord, I'd kill you now and seize mastery of the Elder Wand."

Albus had thought that he was done with the shocks for one day. Clearly he'd been wrong. "How did you...?"

"I'm just that fucking amazing. I could probably make a new set of Deathly Hallows if I really wanted to, but that would be a waste of time. The story about some anthropomorphic representation of death handing out gifts is bullshit in case you didn't know, nor does possession of all three items grant any special powers."

Albus was not often in a position where he felt like the less informed person in a conversation, nor did he much care for it. Still, he had little choice but to accept Harry's words as truth solely based on the fact that the younger wizard clearly knew more than he was saying. Perhaps it was something to do with the Peverell ancestry of the Potters?

"But we've drifted off topic." Harry continued. "I don't like you, I think old buzzards like you should be put away where they can't meddle in other people's lives anymore, but we have a common enemy and the enemy of my enemy can be an ally of circumstance, so I'm willing to work with you to get rid of Voldemort and then we can stay out of each other's way for the rest of your life. I'll contact you about Slughorn, now get off my island and don't forget to take Greasy with you."

XXXXX

"That table and tea set were expensive." Fleur said peevishly once Dumbledore and Snape were gone.

"Eh." Harry shrugged. A table was a table. "You and Dora should talk to your families and get them to move to Spellhaven if possible. I don't want them getting taken hostage and used against us."

Spellhaven wasn't completely unassailable of course, but warding an island was much easier than warding a random patch of land, not to mention that there were no bureaucratic restrictions on what kind of wards he could use. Plus, he had already set up a portal mirror as an emergency escape route to Ravenhead in case Voldemort actually decided to mount a direct assault one day.

"Right, will do." Dora nodded firmly, echoed by Fleur. After hearing what Death Eaters did to their victims, they would be willing to stun and kidnap their families if they refused to come freely. "What about Penny and your other senior employees?"

"Good point, they might be targeted too. I hope Penny doesn't quit her job over this, I never did tell her that I was moonlighting as a vigilante serial killer."

XXXXX

"Penny, I need you to contact the relevant person in the Indian magical community and have them ship me a few top of the line flying carpets."

Penny frowned at Harry in confusion. "I thought you wanted to go there and buy them yourself."

Harry scowled at that. "I recently learned some information that will probably require me to put off that trip for the foreseeable future."

"What kind of information?" She asked.

And he told her.

Penny took a deep, calming breath. "So let me get this straight, Voldemort was never completely dead, you've been murdering his followers over the past year and a half or so and now he's back and might decide to target me because of our association."

The worst part was that she wasn't even all that surprised.

"Maybe also your parents."

"...Damn it, Harry."

"Just ask them if they want to retire on a magical island or convince them to move to New Zealand or something. Either way, get them out of Britain. I'll pay for everything if I have to, because I sure as hell am not mounting any rescue missions if they stick around and get kidnapped."

"You're all heart." Penny said sourly and then sighed in resignation. "I suppose Voldemort would have targeted us because I'm a muggleborn anyway."

XXXXX

The problem with mixing war and magic was that it eliminated, or at least greatly diminished, a great many logistical issues that an attacker would usually face. Travel time, supply lines, geography...all of it barely even factored into consideration.

Realistically speaking, the defender in a magical war could only really claim knowledge of the environment, whatever traps he could prepare ahead of time and wards as an advantage, but wards were not to attacking wizards what castle walls had once been to medieval armies. Most wards in use today were of a subtler variety that wasn't meant to be a direct defense against attack.

The layman tended to think of wards as dome-like structures that sat on a certain area and those types of wards did exist to be fair, but they fell almost exclusively into the category of 'war wards'. They were so named because they were both highly power intensive and disruptive to daily life. As such, war wards couldn't be kept active at all times and were deemed a branch of magic that ordinary citizens of magical countries were barred from using.

Naturally, Harry wanted them.

"That's one hell of a big perimeter ward you're asking for, Lord Potter." The chief warding expert that Harry had hired said, rubbing his bristly grey beard.

"But can you do it?" Harry asked. He knew perfectly well that he was asking for a lot. Most perimeter wards were limited to a building or an estate at the most. The one he wanted would extend a kilometer in all directions from the shores of the island.

"We'll need something to anchor the ward to."

"Would underwater stone pillars rising from the sea floor in a circle around the island do it?"

"Aye, that would actually work better than what I had in mind and you're paying us enough that I won't even grumble about needing to get wet to set it up."

"I'll start raising them tomorrow then. Now about the war wards..."

The old warder exhaled gustily as he replied. "Since you sidestepped the law about those, we can set them up for you, but I have to warn you not to rely on them too much. They aren't even close to being a perfect defense."

"I know, but it's better than no defense at all."

"Can't argue with that. Alright, which ones do you want?"

"Broom Disruption Field for a start, as far out as possible."

"Hmmm. That should be about...three hundred or so meters out from the village. Any more than that and it won't do its job."

 _Not as much as I'd hoped, but I can work with it._ Harry mused. _The village is right next to the sea, so an approach from that direction would see any attackers going for a swim, and I can always turn the forest into a death trap once it grows a bit more. The sphinxes did say they owed me a debt..._

 _But suppose they do actually swim to shore? Bah, I'll just enthrall a few dozen sharks and use them as guards. They might even be affected by the magic around here, which would be all kinds of interesting._

"That'll do. Next I want a standard Spellshield surrounding the village."

The warder briefly sucked on his teeth before replying. "That's not a small area. We can do it, but any half-competent ward-breaker will be able to tear it down in less than an hour and that's not even mentioning the brute force approach. A Spellshear will rip through it like it's nothing."

Harry knew that perfectly well. The Spellshear was a powerful bit of magic that was devastatingly effective against shielding spells of any kind. Not much use in a duel, but excellent if you needed to tear down a war ward in a hurry. It had been the death of more than one wizard that had placed too much faith in walls of pure magic.

"I know, but not just anyone can cast a Spellshear and any time the enemy spends cracking the ward is time I can use to mount a response."

"You sound like you're preparing for a war." The warder commented.

"Only the dead have seen the end of war." Harry quoted.

"You have got to be the most depressing teenager I've ever met." The man snorted. "I'm guessing you want the Spellshield paired up with something to prevent any clever bastards from just going right through?"

"You guess correctly. A Disintegration Barrier."

The warder whistled. "That's nasty."

"Saves time on corpse disposal though."

"Hah! And I suppose it's their own fault if they charge into a war ward like a bunch of lemmings, but I doubt that'll happen. These kinds of wards glow like a bonfire to anyone and anything with even a drop of magical blood in them when they're active."

"Then the ward will have done it's job in keeping them out."

Harry eventually settled on having five sets of increasingly smaller and therefore more powerful wards erected over the newly built village of Spellhaven, with the smallest covering only his and the girls' new home.

He fully understood that there was little point in getting overly creative on this since, as the warder said, only an idiot would charge straight into an active ward and they were impossible to miss, so all five sets consisted of a Spellshield paired with something else that would either kill or completely disable anyone that was stupid enough to actually do that.

The primary purpose of these wards was always to discourage casual attack and delay any overwhelming assault long enough to organise a resistance and evacuate people to Ravenhead if necessary. The secondary purpose was to force Voldemort to expend at least a portion of his strength smashing the wards if he came personally.

XXXXX

Once he was done talking wards, Harry went to check on a different security issue. Down he went, into an underground chamber that was being prepared for a very specific purpose.

"How goes it?" He asked.

"Pretty good." Dora answered. "I think that I've more or less got the draining and ventilation spells finished, so basically all that's left is to test it out and then let Fleur loose to do the decorating."

The room didn't look like anything special, just a decently sized square space carved out of the basalt that made up the island. Once Fleur furnished it, it would serve as a pleasant waiting room for people that arrived via portkey.

What made it special were that the only way to contact anyone outside this room was via communication mirror. Other than that, the room would be completely sealed from the outside world, with the only way out being a short-range portal similar to the one that led to Platform 9 and ¾ that would be made available once it was determined that the visitors were non-hostile.

The room was also equipped with a runic magic detecting scheme in case anyone tried to get cute with glamour charms. The floor also had a high-powered runic stun trap carved into it that could be remote detonated to knock anyone in the room unconscious in the event of potential hostile visitors. In the event of _really_ hostile visitors, the kind that brought counter-measures for the stun trap, the expansion charms could be collapsed to squish them.

Despite everything, teleportation magic remained the most dangerous threat due to Spellhaven's isolated location. Fortunately, Apparition could be blocked entirely and portkey travel redirected to a location of one's choosing, so that threat was easily neutralised.

Harry was still working on his own version of the Marauder's Map that would cover the whole island to check for people who lied about their identity. It would have been easier with the original in his possession, but Harry always did like a magical challenge and if a bunch of kids still in school could do it, then by thunder so could he.

XXXXX

 _July 5th. Spellhaven._

Horace Slughorn was a man well aware of his vices. He liked his food, his drink and his various other pleasures, but most of all he liked to rub elbows with the rich, famous and powerful.

He had retired from Hogwarts when Voldemort fell and had always regretted that he would not be there to meet the up and coming wizards and witches of the next generation. He had especially regretted not being there when Harry Potter came to Hogwarts. Lily's boy had already done magnificently for himself, just imagine what he could have done with Horace's contacts!

At the moment, he was bitterly regretting ever hearing the name of Harry Potter.

"How many horcruxes did Riddle want to make, Sluggy? Speak up or you'll have to figure out how to brew potions without your fingers." The scarred young wizard threatened.

"Harry, you promised me that you would not treat Horace as if he was a Death Eater." Dumbledore protested.

"And I fully intend to keep that promise by not killing him. I said nothing about maiming if the blubbering fat fuck doesn't start talking right the fuck now however."

"Alright, alright, I'll tell you. I'll show you the memory even." Horace wailed fearfully.

XXXXX

 _A little later._

"Bye bye, Sluggy. Try to avoid helping any more psychopaths achieve immortality." Harry said as a form of mocking farewell before Slughorn disappeared in the swirl of a portkey.

"That was ill done, Harry." Dumbledore said with grave disappointment in his tone.

"Put a sock in it, old man." Harry jeered. "I don't have the patience to suck up to that fat bastard until he surrenders crucial information that he should have handed over decades ago. We learned for sure that Riddle was aiming for seven-way split of his soul and that's all that matters."

"Yet you made an enemy today where you could have had a valuable ally."

"I was always crap at making friends and I like to play to my strengths. I'll be expecting you to contact me if you track down any more horcruxes."

Dumbledore sighed sadly and nodded.


	41. Chapter 41

**The heat is still killing my update speed.**

 **Special credit as always goes to Joe Lawyer for his help in polishing up these chapters.**

XXXXX

 _July 27th, 2017. Malfoy Manor._

Voldemort smiled genially as he accepted the pale yew wand, _his_ pale yew wand.

"Thank you, Barty. I had missed this." He said.

Bartemius Crouch Sr. said nothing, merely stared blankly. Not unexpected, considering he was being held under the Imperius. The man might have been disgraced when it came out that he had imprisoned Sirius Black without a trial, but he was still a senior Ministry official and had access to all sorts of places, such as wand storage for example. He had retrieved the wands of all his soon-to-be-released followers as well.

"May I have him now, my lord?" Barty Crouch Jr. asked eagerly, his eyes shining with malice.

"Of course, Barty." Voldemort said indulgently. The younger Crouch had gone to prison rather than forsake him, showing his true mettle. He was greatly favored now and allowing him vengeance against his father was a small thing to do for him.

Voldemort glided slowly through the house as the screaming started. Soon, he would have more men like Barty. Men of conviction who had gone to prison rather than forsake him. And of course Bellatrix, couldn't forget dear Bella.

For now, he would have to rely on what he had, plus the mercenaries that Goran had been able to get in touch with.

XXXXX

 _July 31st, 2017. Spellhaven._

Aurélie knocked firmly on the door of the lovely château that her granddaughter now lived in.

Said granddaughter was quick to open the door. They were expected.

"Come in, come in." Fleur invited, smiling eagerly.

Aurélie returned the smile and waddled in. However happy she was to be pregnant again, the extra mass was definitely inconvenient.

Behind her, three veela in their twenties followed, one of them carrying a stoppered potion.

Fleur's eyes gleamed with interest upon seeing it. "Is that...?"

"Oh yes, yes it is." Aurélie said smugly.

Rosalind's Fluidic Enhancer had been invented at the turn of the last century ago by a particularly lusty veela. Rosalind had a flair for potion brewing and had been unsatisfied by the volume of sexual discharge granted by nature. The potion temporarily gave both men and women a significant boost in that area. That this also allowed men to climax more times in one sitting was a happy bonus, although it did slightly increase the refractory period for both genders as well.

One of the Rosalind's lovers had unfortunately died of dehydration while helping her 'test' her creation, leading to the potion being labeled dangerous and subsequently outlawed. Veela still used it sometimes, but only when there was no chance of word reaching law enforcement, and not often even then. Overuse of the potion put some strain on the body, especially on the testicles, and the whole point of the potion was to make things more fun, not to cause harm. She was sure that Harry wouldn't mind it.

Aurélie's had been the loudest voice in supporting the idea of establishing a veela commune on Spellhaven, having immediately seen the opportunity for what it was. Harry was of course the undisputed master of the island and would have to be obeyed as such, but she had known that he would also be far less restrictive than even the most tolerant Ministry of Magic.

Given her personal knowledge of Harry, Fleur's relationship with him and the implications of her pregnancy, it had not been difficult to find veela willing to take the plunge. There were currently just under thirty of them on Spellhaven, with herself as the de facto leader due both to her age and the link to Harry that impregnation by him and being Fleur's grandmother created.

Fleur herself was the one whose voice actually held the most weight, being part of what was essentially the ruling family of the island and all, but she was too young and not really a member of the commune, which was why leadership had defaulted to Aurélie.

That Fleur was actually one of the creators of the island was not widely known. In fact, it wasn't even widely known that the island had been created through magic. Aurélie knew it because of her close relationship with her granddaughter, but everyone else was given a story about the Black family claiming and hiding the island centuries ago. She was most impressed with what Fleur and her lovers had accomplished and would keep it secret. The ICW would not necessarily kick up a fuss over it, but there was no sense in taking chances and this island presented far too great an opportunity for veela to risk having it ruined because a few politicians felt like causing trouble.

Spellhaven was still in its infancy and all of its little customs and unspoken rules remained unformed, something that Aurélie intended to take advantage of. Harry was a powerful wizard and could easily live for another two hundred years, more if he found a way to extend his lifespan and decided to use it. He also had three powerful lovers and their children would likely inherit mastery of the island after them.

Aurélie hoped to establish a tradition of sorts, one that everyone would benefit from. The veela living on Spellhaven would get a close tie to the ruling family of their home, as well as access to the bedrooms of very powerful wizards and witches and Harry's family would have no shortage of beautiful women willing to frequent their beds. Humans might consider this arrangement to be something akin to prostitution or a harem, but humans had some very strange notions about sex.

Fleur was fully on board with the plan and today, under the cover of Hary's birthday, they would make the first step . It would be easy to explain that they just wanted to show their appreciation for inviting them to settle on his island. It was unlikely that he, Luna or Nymphadora would object too much, if at all.

They'd all taken the contraceptive potion since neither she nor Fleur believed that Harry was ready to start breeding them, but they had high hopes that a few years of exposure to veela that didn't have to pretend they were human for the sake of fitting in would cure him of his reluctance. Maybe they'd even be able to get Nymphadora in on it, she was certainly powerful enough that the chances of impregnation were good.

XXXXX

"Come on, Harry. It wasn't _that_ bad." Dora said with a grin that bespoke of vast amusement.

"Yes it was." Harry insisted with a scowl. "Today was a total waste of time. I couldn't go two minutes without being accosted by some NPC wanting to shake my hand and wish me a happy birthday."

Dora rolled her eyes at Harry's habit of referring to people as non-player characters. "They're just trying to be polite and get on your good side."

"Well they failed." Harry said petulantly, for once acting younger than his age. "I can't believe that one idiot actually suggested that we declare my birthday a holiday. How the fuck does he think I can do that without coming off like...well, like Fudge actually. He's just stupid enough to think that self-aggrandisement is attractive."

"That _was_ pretty bad." Dora admitted. "But the rest is just normal human social interaction, oh King of Scowls."

"Shush, you." Harry determinedly kept a scowl on his face despite his amusement at the title he'd just been given. "I've had to spend the whole day pretending that I actually appreciated people bothering me with this 'normal human interaction' bullshit. I reserve the right to scowl."

"Carry on then." Dora rolled her eyes again.

They made it home soon after, both wondering if Fleur and Luna were back yet. Their schedules tended to be a bit chaotic despite Narcissa and Penny's best efforts to impose some order on it, so they generally didn't know when they'd be done with the day until they went to bed.

As it turned out, Fleur and Luna _were_ home, but they weren't alone.

"Hi, Harry, Nymphadora!" Luna chirped, disengaged from whatever conversation she'd been having with one of the three unknown veela present and ran over to give them a hug and a kiss in greeting.

"Luna." Harry said, faintly bewildered. "What's going on?"

"Aurélie, Fleur and I decided to throw you a little birthday party." Luna answered.

"I see." Harry said, no less confused about the presence of the three extra veela.

Aurélie came over to wish him a happy birthday with a quick kiss on the cheek, then she turned to the unknowns.

"And these three are my gift to you." She said.

"Excuse me?" Both Harry and Dora said incredulously.

Aurélie paid their reaction no mind and simply jumped into the introductions.

"These are Ingrid, Nadine and Ivette." She said, out each one in turn, which was apparently some kind of signal for them to give him a hug and kiss in greeting as well. "They are recent arrivals that used to work at Magical France's largest massage parlor and were hoping to set up one of their own on Spellhaven."

Harry's estimation of Magical France immediately rose by several points.

"We would be happy to demonstrate our skills." Ingrid said invitingly, a bare hint of a Swedish accent in her English.

"Well, you were pretty cranky just a few minutes ago, so a massage certainly couldn't hurt." Dora said, clearly amused.

"You just want a massage yourself." Harry accused.

"That too." Dora agreed.

XXXXX

Nymphadora Tonks was no idiot. She knew a plot when she saw one. It helped that she still vividly remembered what Fleur had contrived to make happen during Harry's sixteenth birthday.

That was why she dropped behind during the walk to the master bedroom and leaned over to whisper into Fleur's ear.

"What are you up to?" She asked.

"Just a bit of extra fun for Harry's birthday." Fleur replied innocently.

"This better not be some scheme to get those three pregnant." Dora warned.

"Nothing of the sort." Fleur insisted. "They've all taken their potion."

Dora was still convinced that Fleur was up to something, but she at least seemed sincere about that. Eh, it was probably nothing to worry about. Fleur's last scheme had turned out pretty well at any rate.

XXXXX

Harry exhaled a rumbling sigh of pleasure as Ingrid skillfully massaged his oiled back. Now this was the kind of birthday celebration he could get used to.

On either side of him, Dora and Luna were in similar states of indolence. All three of them were naked and lying on their stomachs while an equally naked veela straddled their thighs and worked on their back. The three veela had put mats on the floor rather than set up raised boards, probably for the express reason of being able to use this position.

None of them minded the nudity, being well aware that this was going to end in sex. It always ended in sex with veela involved.

Ingrid leaned down so that her breasts rested on his back and spoke huskily into his ear. "Is it good for you?"

"Very." Harry replied contently. "France will be a darker place without the three of you."

"Flatterer." She said, clearly pleased with his compliment and the implied approval of their plans. Then her tone switched to mild frustration. "It wasn't as if we were able to really use our skills to the fullest anyway."

"Oh?"

"There were just so many _rules_." Ingrid huffed. "No nudity, no body-to-body contact, absolutely no sex...I enjoy my work, but it was terribly frustrating at times."

Harry could see the reasons for these restrictions. Things could get messy if the employees of a business that wasn't a brothel were allowed to sleep with clients, especially if some of these employees were veela. Like Ingrid said though, it would definitely be frustrating for them, being able to touch what would undoubtedly be an aroused witch or wizard, but not able to escalate like their instincts would demand.

He was also rather amused by the clumsy attempt to manipulate him into not imposing those same restrictions on Spellhaven. It was cute how she thought that having a beautiful naked woman straddling his thighs would be able to influence his decision, as if that was a rare situation.

"That does sound frustrating." He replied, deliberately noncommittal.

Harry did not care what they did with their clients. He did not even care if this was a plot by the veela commune to use the massage parlor like the proverbial fly trap to ensnare unsuspecting witches and wizards. As long as they didn't keep them cooped up in their bedrooms all the time, then they could have as many love thralls as they wanted as far as he was concerned.

He would make sure to spread a a few hints on the dangers of sleeping with veela. Dangers such as an increased desire to sleep with veela until you found yourself willing to do anything if only they would touch you again. Maybe even post a disclaimer next to the gates of their commune.

It probably wouldn't achieve anything. If young men were notorious for two things, it was overconfidence and thinking with their cocks. They would be as good as falling over themselves to enthrall themselves. Young women were scarcely any different, if they were at least bisexual then Harry fully expected them to fall prey to the veelas' charms just as easily.

That was fine with him. Law of the jungle and all that. Hunter chases prey. If a man steps into a jungle that he knows is full of carnivorous predators, he has no grounds to cry foul when he gets pounced on by a jaguar. More importantly, nobody else could blame the jaguar for being a jaguar.

Veela might not be big jungle cats, but the same principle applied.

"Judging by the tension in your back, you've had a frustrating day yourself." Ingrid commented, changing the subject.

"It was, but you're doing an excellent job of relaxing me." Harry figured that there was no downside to a little flirting.

Ingrid clearly agreed if the way she pressed herself flush against his back was any clue. "We will always be at your disposal if you need a good rubbing, my lord." She purred suggestively.

"Mmmm, how about that, we've acquired massage girls." Harry hummed complacently.

Luna simply cooed approvingly.

"Brilliant." Dora drawled indolently. "I do wonder what it's going to cost us though."

"We would never think to charge you for our services." Ivette, Dora's masseuse, was quick to assure.

"Yes, it would be _our_ pleasure, so please call on us any time you want." Nadine added.

 _These ladies doth protest too much, methinks._ Harry thought to himself in amusement. _I do believe that the adage of 'if you aren't paying for the product, then you are the product' applies here._ He wondered what what kind of scheme Fleur and her grandmother were running. Speaking of which, where were those two? They'd stepped out a little while ago and hadn't come back yet.

He got his answer about twenty minutes later, when they walked in just as Ingrid was finishing up the massage. They were dressed only in thin silk robes that they quickly discarded, leaving them as nude as everyone else.

Harry stood up and stretched a bit, marvelling at how good he felt. This was almost definitely a ploy to start an orgy, but damn if these girls didn't do a mean massage.

Dora and Luna were doing the same, but the three veela masseuses had remained sitting on the floor. He didn't have time to consider what that was about as Fleur pressed a vial of potion into his hand.

"What's this?" Harry asked, looking at the thick, cream-colored potion suspiciously.

"Something fun, I promise." Fleur said, blinking at him coquettishly. "Please trust me and drink it."

Harry only hesitated briefly before shrugging and drinking it. He did trust Fleur, enough to drink an unknown potion at her request.

It didn't taste quite as terrible as most potions, but it wasn't exactly pleasant either. Kind of thick and unpleasantly viscous. He didn't feel any obvious effects either.

"What's it do?" Dora asked curiously.

"I don't know." Harry frowned. "I'm not feeling any different."

"Just give it a little while, you should be feeling the effects soon." Aurélie advised.

Harry waited expectantly, trying to sense what the potion was doing to his body. In less than a minute, he began to feel an unpleasant fullness in his testicles that was reminiscent of the dreaded state of affairs colloquially known as 'blue balls'.

"What the hell?" He grunted, looking at Fleur a little accusingly.

"Just a little something to help you...produce." She said with a small laugh. "Now why don't you let Ingrid relieve the last of your tension?"

The veela in question shuffled forward a bit on her knees and stared hungrily at his throbbing erection.

"Yes, please let me finish you off." She purred, licking her lips. "My pride as a masseuse won't let me leave any tension in your body."

"I don't know, maybe I should make Fleur or Aurélie do it." Harry said, ignoring the steadily mounting pressure in his loins. "This tension is kind of their fault after all."

Ingrid looked as if someone had just stolen her Christmas presents right out of her hands.

"If it pleases you, then I will of course oblige." Aurélie said submissively.

Harry blinked. What the hell? Veela didn't _do_ submissive, not unless you could dominate them sexually and even that tended to get shaken off quickly. Or unless they were up to something.

"I just thought that Ingrid deserved a little reward for the massage she gave you." Aurélie continued.

"It really would be very rude to not let her have dibs on your penis after she put in all that effort to seduce you." Luna opined. "I know that I'm letting Nadine lick my vagina before anyone else gets a turn."

"Thank you, Luna." Nadine gushed, hugging the smaller blonde. "That's very sweet of you."

Harry and Dora exchanged looks of fond exasperation for the youngest member of their group.

"Alright then. Have at it, Ingrid." Harry said, gesturing to his manhood.

She didn't need any more encouragement and practically dived on it, sucking it into her mouth as if it would escape if she didn't hurry.

Harry sighed in pleasure at her efforts. She had the same tendency to rush the blowjob to get at the prize that every veela he'd slept with so far had, but at the moment that was exactly what he needed.

It was barely two minutes before he felt his climax approaching and he knew that it was going to be a big one. Knowing veela as he did, Harry didn't bother to warn her, he merely grabbed her head and thrust himself as far down her throat as he could manage.

Although Fleur had told him that the potion would help him produce and he'd felt that it would be a big load, Harry was still caught off guard when it happened. It exploded out of his member and gouted down Ingrid's throat in a torrent that left him unable to do anything except hold on to her head for dear life and groan while he filled her belly.

When the potion-enhanced orgasm finally subsided, Harry was left panting for breath on shaky legs. Then he suddenly realised that Ingrid wouldn't have been able to breathe at all with him occupying her esophagus and quickly pulled back, rather gracelessly falling on his arse as his legs failed him.

He felt as if he'd just gone six rounds with Fleur at her horniest.

Meanwhile, Ingrid was holding a hand to her mouth and looked like she was fighting down the urge to vomit.

"You okay?" Harry asked, slightly worried.

"I'm fine." Ingrid replied, burping quietly and then giggling. "A bit lightheaded though."

"Sorry."

"Don't be, I enjoyed it." She assured and burped again." Excuse me."

Harry had to chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Well, Harry is going to be recovering for a few minutes." Fleur said, holding up another vial of potion. "Nymmie, would you like to go next?"

The metamorphmagus looked at her incredulously. "I just saw Harry nearly drown someone with his spunk because of that potion and you expect me to drink it?"

"Don't be so dramatic." Fleur rolled her eyes. "Harry might have been a bit more prolific than expected, but she was hardly in danger . Besides, unless you decide to grace us with your wondrous futa cock, you will at best give Ivette a shower."

Dora glared for a moment and then snatched the potion vial from Fleur's hand and chugged it without a word.

Harry settled himself into an armchair with another chuckle at how they'd corrupted their oldest girlfriend. He decided to watch while his body recovered from the explosive orgasm. He could already feel the potion working to restore his virility, but it would indeed be a while before he was up for another go.

Fleur also gave Luna a dose and then drank one herself before joining in on the fun. She went to work on Dora with Ivette while Ingrid went to join Nadine and Luna.

Aurélie stepped next to him with a large glass of juice."Here, you should drink this."

Seeing that it was not in any way magical, Harry accepted it without comment.

"So, what is this about?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean?" The pregnant veela asked.

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you." He chided. "I know you're up to something and _this_." He gestured at the unfolding, all-female orgy. "is somehow part of it."

Aurélie was quiet for a few moments before replying.

"I just wanted relations between you and the veela to get off on the right foot and what better way to do that than to get to know each other?"

"You're planning to bring more of them over then?" Harry surmised.

"Yes," She admitted with a smile. "but don't worry, it won't be too often and I will make sure it is enjoyable for all involved, especially the four of you. You are the lord of this land and we rely on your protection. It wouldn't be right for us to inconvenience you."

Their conversation was broken by a ragged cry of pleasure as Dora climaxed and squirted explosively, drenching Fleur and Ivette's faces, which had been at ground zero.

Harry whistled, impressed. "That's one hell of a potion you've brought."

"A veela invention." Aurélie said proudly.

"Figures." Harry snorted and stood up. He was recovered and ready for round two. "Now how about you help me do something about this returning tension that your sneaky veela potion is causing me?"

"I though you'd never ask." Aurélie purred.

They had to be careful due to the advanced stage of her pregnancy, but she easily settled herself on the edge of the huge bed and gave him a view that showed her clear eagerness.

Harry sheated himself inside her with ease and started thrusting, reveling in the heat radiating from her.

"Harder." Aurélie purred. "I'm pregnant, not made of glass."

He obliged and became more forceful, drawing moans of pleasure from her.

Just like what had happened with Ingrid, the potion made it nearly impossible to hold back and Harry felt his climax approaching rapidly.

Aurélie shuddered and cried out when he started filling her, using her legs to pull him close and prevent him from pulling out, not that he would.

"Extraordinary." She sighed and simply lay there with his seed dripping out of her.

Not that she was left alone for long, as Luna had also climaxed in the meanwhile, which meant that there were four veela that had only each other to play with. It wasn't long before they were competing to see which one could slurp out the most of his seed from Aurélie's opening. Well, three of them were competing. Ingrid was apparently still full and had decided to give Fleur a good licking instead.

The nasty spectacle was terribly arousing, but Harry could not for the life of him get it up yet, so he grabbed the juice and plopped himself on the massage mats in between Dora and Luna, paying no mind to the puddles of female ejaculate all over them.

"Here, drink this. You'll need it." He said with amusement.

The two girls eagerly guzzled down the liquid.

"How the hell do I keep letting you pervs draw me into these situations?" Dora sighed when she was done drinking.

"Because you're a pervert too and just like to pretend otherwise?" Luna theorised dreamily.

"Shut up, Luna."

They watched the show of the pregnant veela getting eaten out by her own granddaughter for a few minutes in silence.

"So, which one of you would like to be first to get stuffed with my cum up to the ovaries?" Harry asked out of the blue as soon as he was ready for round three.

"Ooh, pick me, pick me!" Luna volunteered excitedly.

"Damn it." Dora muttered and eyed the collections of butts swaying at the foot of the bed. "I think I'll go stuff one of them then."

"Sounds like a plan." Harry agreed. Even with the potion, he doubted he'd be able to adequately fill up seven women, five of which were veela, so a bit of help from Futa Tonks would be appreciated.

XXXXX

Narcissa opened the door to the master bedroom with a certain amount of hesitation. A gaggle of veela had thrown a birthday party for Harry today, including Fleur's grandmother. There was really only one way that could possibly end and she wasn't particularly eager to walk into the middle of it.

A veritable wall of sex-scented air hit her almost immediately and the sight that greeted her was just about what she'd expected.

One of the veela had her head buried in Luna's crotch, making noises of quiet enjoyment at what she was tasting. Luna was clearly exhausted, as she was just hanging limply in that sex swing contraption that Nymphadora had bought for Harry a few years ago and making an occasional mewling sound.

Speaking of her niece, she appeared to have morphed herself into partial maleness again from what Narcissa could see. That was admittedly not much with the heavily pregnant form of Aurélie slowly grinding on her waist and Fleur straddling her face.

Harry was less occupied, much to Narcissa's relief. He was lounging against the headboard of the bed, with the remaining two veela apparently working together to bring him back to readiness with their mouths. Even in the dim candlelight, the reason for his softness was clearly visible as it seeped from between the two veela's legs.

"Harry!" Narcissa stage-whispered, feeling for some reason that it would be obscene to speak normally in this tableau.

Harry opened his eyes, glowing slightly in the gloom. An eyebrow went up questioningly, but he made no move to get up.

"Emergency call from Fudge." Narcissa answered the unspoken question, still talking as softly as she could get away with.

Harry made an aggravated noise and gently pushed the two veela away, much to their tired protest.

He did eventually manage to focus them on each other while he left the room, still stark naked.

"Teeny, a robe please." He said to the air as they walked, causing the requested robe to be delivered. "Thank you."

The rest of the walk was made in silence, with Harry clearly very annoyed and Narcissa trying not to think about the fact that it had been nearly a week since he had been able to make any time for her.

"Cornelius." He spoke sternly into the mirror once they arrived in the study. "What the hell is so urgent that you had to call at...three in the fucking morning?"

The face of Cornelius Fudge was confused, as it often was.

"But it's almost six." He said, baffled.

"Time zone differences, Cornelius. Now what is this about?"

Fudge's expression instantly changed to fearful.

"It's horrible." He wailed. "Someone attacked Azkaban and released a bunch of prisoners!"

Harry briefly looked stunned before his features twisted into a scowl.

"I'll be there soon." He said and cut the connection.

For a moment the air was filled with a tense, angry silence

"Fuck!" Harry suddenly swore, slamming his fist down on the desk.

Narcissa jumped at the display of anger, having never seen Harry react like that to anything. Fortunately for her nerves, he calmed down quickly.

"Sorry about that, Cissy. One of my plans just went up in flames."

"Is there anything I can do?" She offered. It wasn't likely, but you never know.

He looked her over appraisingly, making Narcissa acutely aware that she was only wearing a thin silk robe and the barely existent lingerie he had long ago ordered her to wear at night.

"You can join me in the shower."

XXXXX

 _Ministry of Magic, London_.

Bureaucrats, clerks and assorted lackeys scrambled out of the way as Harry stormed towards the lift with a thunderous scowl on his face.

Fucking Narcissa up the wall of the shower had calmed him down a little bit and it was a damn good thing that his runes shortened the duration of the potion, but the anger had come rushing back as soon as he entered the building. He was pissed at Dumbledore and at Snape for not having any warning of the attack on Azkaban, but mostly he was pissed at himself.

He'd known that Voldemort would eventually attack Azkaban, it was a given. He'd thought that he'd be able to use it to set a trap, since it was one of the very few locations that the Dark Lord was guaranteed to show up at eventually. Even if he couldn't die as long as he had at least one horcrux, he could still be rendered temporarily harmless.

 _Should have just gone there and killed the prisoners._ He thought darkly. It would have been a bit tricky to do it without being noticed, but not impossible. He'd tried to be clever instead and it had backfired.

Snape had reported that Voldemort was still trying to gather new recruits and training the old ones. There had been no whisper of any plans to attack Azkaban...or anything else for that matter.

Harry had forgotten one very important thing.

The enemy could be clever too.

He should have seen it coming. Hadn't Dumbledore publicly declared that Snape was his spy after the end of the last war? Harry had thought that the mere fact of the greasy one's continued survival meant that Voldemort thought that Snape was his double agent rather than Dumbledore's. Maybe he did think that, but it was clear that Snape was not trusted with everything.

Harry had no fear of the possibility that Snape actually was a double agent for Voldemort. The man's soul was gripped by such a powerful sense of guilt that it shone through even his bitterness. He might be able to hide it from everyone else, but not from him. A man like that wouldn't be motivated by anything that Voldemort could offer.

He wondered about that sometimes, the guilt. Snape was not a man that was prone to remorse or regret, so this kind of crippling guilt was unusual to see in him. Guilt meant that he cared about something deeply, and the only thing he had ever seemed to care about was Lily Evans, later Potter.

It was from all accounts a possessive, selfish sort of love on his part, but that didn't matter. Dumbledore never did say how exactly Voldemort heard part of the prophecy. Harry idly wondered if Snape had been the one to tell him and indirectly got his parents killed, something like that would do it for certain. It didn't really matter, he supposed. Harry had never felt enough of a connection to his parents to feel vengeful about their deaths.

The slightly morbid mental tangent actually served to calm him down a little and by the time he reached Fudge's office, he had something of a plan. Fudge himself wasn't going to like it, but Fudge would believe that the sky was purple with green polka dots if he thought it would benefit him.

He ignored the stammered protest of the secretary and simply barged into the office.

Fudge was pacing nervously inside and nearly slumped in relief at his entrance.

"Harry!" He cried.

"Cornelius."

"It's a disaster, Harry!" Fudge continued to cry. "We have to keep this quiet, but Amelia is determined to talk to the press about it and won't listen to me."

"This isn't something you can keep quiet, Cornelius." Harry explained patiently.

"But we don't even have anyone to blame!" Fudge protested.

"Calm yourself." Harry said with an utter confidence that he knew Fudge had come to rely on. "I know who did this."

"Really?" The idiot's relief was palpable. "Who was it then?"

"Voldemort."

Fudge screamed as if scalded and pinwheeled his arms.

"That was a mean trick you played on me, Harry." He chuckled nervously after bringing his reaction somewhat under control.

"It's no joke I'm afraid." Harry replied flatly. "Voldemort didn't truly die on that night, he just wasn't fully alive this past decade and a half. I tried to prevent him from returning, but I've failed."

"That's impossible!" Fudge snapped, face taking on an angry red tinge in his vehemence. "You-Know-Who is dead and people don't come back from the dead! He can't be back, he just can't!"

Fudge was shouting by that point, so Harry slapped him.

"You hit me." The chubby politician said, holding his cheek in shock.

"You were freaking out." Harry retorted flatly. "You think I wouldn't prefer it if Voldemort was nothing but a bad memory?" He continued, ignoring the yelp Fudge made at the second use of the Dark Lord's name. "You think I enjoyed having to kill his followers before he could use them to restart his reign of terror? I would have been happy to mind my own business, but reality doesn't care about what we want. Shutting your eyes isn't going to help anyone, least of all you."

"You were the one...?" Fudge stuttered, staring at him in horror.

"Yes." Harry nodded. "I know you suspected me from the start, and it was wise of you to pretend otherwise, Cornelius. Sometimes, distasteful things have to be done, but it's better that the Minister of Magic isn't connected to them."

As expected, Fudge puffed up with pride and did not deny it. He would never deny praise even if it was clear to all and sundry that he didn't deserve it.

"Yes, yes of course." He blustered.

"I could always count on you to make wise decisions." Harry said, reaching over to give the idiot's shoulder a friendly squeeze. He was almost insultingly easy to manipulate. "Which is why I know I can rely on you to make another."

"Err..." Fudge stammered, clearly having no idea what he was talking about.

"There's no reason for you to concern yourself with this, Cornelius." Harry began persuasively, playing on the man's fears and desire for the problem to go away. "You're a politician, not an Auror. Let Amelia Bones handle it, that's her job after all."

Fudge nodded furiously.

"She'll need full Ministry backing, release from peacetime protocols when dealing with Death Eaters and funding of course, but that shouldn't be a problem." That was received less enthusiastically, but Harry pushed forward before Fudge could object. "More importantly, I'll need you to do a few things for me as well."

"What kind of things?"

Harry decided to go for a storybook approach. Wizards ate up that kind of shit and it helped that it was actually kind of true in this case. "Voldemort is my enemy just as Grindelwald was Dumbledore's, but I'm just a private citizen. I'll need some...wiggle room...where the law is concerned if I'm to take care of him now that the war is moving out of the shadows."

"Of course, anything you need!" Fudge jumped all over the idea. "Just give me a list of special powers you need and I'll see what I can do."

"As it happens, I have just such a list with me..."

XXXXX

 _August 1st, 2017. Ministry atrium._

The Ministry and Wizengamot could move shockingly fast when they wanted to. It took mere hours to bring Bones up to speed and organise a press conference.

Harry had spent most of that time helping Fudge make a few executive decisions, preparing his speech and briefing the head of the DMLE.

Bones had _not_ been happy to learn that she'd been kept in the dark for so long, but had grudgingly admitted that they couldn't have done much to a non-corporeal Voldemort. She would probably be even less happy when she learned about the list of special privileges that Fudge was going to grant him.

A smarter man than Fudge would have noticed that, for a woman in charge of all law enforcement, she was curiously disinterested in how exactly Harry had been acting to counter Voldemort so far.

She'd still wanted to know everything else though, which Harry unfortunately couldn't give her. The horcruxes were still far too dangerous a subject to be bandied about and she couldn't do anything about them anyway. He did tell her about the prophecy though. Not the specifics, but that it existed. They might yet be able to bait a trap for Voldemort with that knowledge and she needed to know in case the Dark Tosser tried to pull another fast one.

Bones was giving her own speech at the moment. It was much starker and less flowery than the one Fudge gave, but there was steel behind her promise to defend Wizarding Britain from Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Harry would be giving a short speech of his own once she was done.

Strictly speaking, he had no business even being part of this. He was not a senior Ministry official, department head or Chief Warlock. A critical look at their little party would reveal that he didn't belong, standing next to Albus Dumbledore, who was Chief Warlock, and Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head Auror.

He was a powerful wizard, a prominent figure in British magical society and the one given undeserved credit for Voldemort's previous defeat, none of which was relevant. Had a similar situation been happening in the mundane world, his presence would be unusual at best, suspicious or outright criminal at worst.

But things worked differently when magic was involved. Protocol and law had a nasty tendency of bending around power even without it, but the effect was far more prominent with _magical_ power.

Harry briefly caught Dumbledore's eye, but could not make out anything past the old man's serene expression. He had not been consulted about any of this, but he didn't seem upset. That didn't necessarily mean anything though.

"That is all I had to say for now," Bones finished, sounding more as if she was concluding a briefing than a press conference. It made Harry glad that he hadn't gone with his original plan of manipulating Fudge into resigning and making her the new Minister of Magic. The woman was Auror to the bone and much more effective in her current post. "but Lord Potter has asked to say a few words as well."

That had the reporters drooling. Damned vultures.

"All the salient points have already been covered by Minister Fudge and Madam Bones, so I will be brief." He said with a practiced fake smile, eliciting some equally fake laughter. Bunch of twits. "I know that the future may seem frightening with the shadow of Voldemort once more looming over it."

He stopped briefly, both to increase dramatic tension and to let allow the twits some time to regain their composure after the obligatory minor freakout that speaking Riddle's chosen moniker elicited. Damn Narcissa and her insistence on rhetoric lessons.

"But remember that he is just a man, not some unknowable monster from the beyond. Whatever power he has as a wizard and whatever rituals he has subjected himself to, he is still just a man like any other. He came squealing into this world like any other man, he has to eat and drink like any other man, he has to go to the bathroom like any other man and no matter how much he flees from it, he will inevitably die like any other man. I will be working closely with the fine men and women of our Auror Corps to see that it happens as quickly as possible."

Harry made his way out of the Ministry to the cheering of Magical Britain's NPC population.

 _I should ask Etal if he can sniff anyone out, just in case they haven't left the country yet..._

XXXXX

 _Malfoy Manor._

Voldemort turned of the Wizarding Wireless, barely managing to restrain the urge to destroy it.

Had anyone spoken about him like that in the past, they would turn up dead in short order. Of course, the point was moot since he was already planning to kill Potter, but it was still infuriating.

Dumbledore had never made moves like this. The old man liked to keep any and all information close to the chest and would have never spoken to the press. Moreover, the kind of slander and propaganda that Potter had just engaged in would have been deemed to be beneath a wizard like Dumbledore.

Yet another sign that Potter was his true enemy, just as the prophecy had foretold.

XXXXX

When Harry made it back to Spellhaven,it was barely an hour after dawn thanks to the time zone difference.

He was exhausted. Not only had he spent a large portion of the night having more-tiring-than-normal sex, but he'd also been dealing with the Ministry's collection of idiots without the benefit of sleep. While he actually needed much less sleep than most people to be fully functional, it was still not ideal.

That was why he breathed a sigh of relief when he entered the master bedroom and saw six women conked out in it. Only Aurélie had apparently retained enough energy to actually get up at dawn in the usual veela fashion.

Judging by the smell, or lack of it, the others had only gotten up long enough to shower. Teeny must have removed the hopelessly soiled massage mats, aired the room, as well as changed the sheets and even the mattress.

Silently grateful that he hadn't argued against Fleur's decision to buy a gigantically oversized bed more strenuously, Harry added himself to the pile of bodies. The exhausted women merely mumbled in their sleep and made room for him.

XXXXX

Harry listened carefully as Etal hissed about scenting several familiar magical presences in a particular location.

"Oh, Draco, and here I thought you'd actually wised up when you moved to Italy." He said to himself with a sigh. "Narcissa will be heartbroken when she hears about this and I'm going to end up having to comfort her. I hate dealing with crying women, you dumb bastard."

Truth be told, he had not expected to find Voldemort and his pack of rabid animals still in Britain. The safer and smarter thing to do would have been to hide somewhere on the mainland, but it seemed that the Dark Lord was too prideful to make a strategic retreat once he'd completed his objective. That could be useful to know in the future.

XXXXX

 _August 2nd, 2017. Amelia Bones' office._

"Come again?" Amelia asked.

"Voldemort and his minions are hiding out at Malfoy Manor." Harry repeated patiently.

"And you know this...how?"

"I have my ways."

Amelia glared, but decided not to press the issue. It wasn't all that important how he knew and she couldn't force him to talk.

"I can't just raid Malfoy Manor without any proof or even suspicion of wrongdoing." However much she wished she could.

"Don't worry about it, I'll take the heat if it turns out to be empty." Harry assured.

"Alright, I'll organise a raid then." Amelia agreed. As long as her department didn't get any shit for it, then she would cheerfully cast Fiendfyre on the Malfoy residence.

"I'll go talk to Dumbledore while you're doing that. Might as well make use of the old bastard."

XXXXX

 _Grimmauld Place._

As luck would have it, the Order of the Phoenix was having a meeting just about then, so Harry decided to crash it. They probably weren't talking about anything important anyway.

"Good day, everyone. How are things?" He said as he burst through the door.

The Order looked startled. Oh, they knew that it was his house they were using, but he'd never bothered to greet them.

Quite a few people were familiar. Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, Remus Lupin, Sirius' ex-girlfriend Hestia Jones, Weasleys and more Weasleys. Oh, and Snape of course.

"Potter, what are you doing here?" The man in question sneered.

Harry replied by blasting him in the face with a stunner.

There was a moment of shocked silence before the newest member of the Order spoke.

"Wicked." Ron Weasley breathed out in awe, delighted at seeing his most hated professor taken down like it was nothing.

"We are in awe." Fred and George declared solemnly.

"Harry, why did you do that?" Dumbledore asked with a reproachful tone.

"He's a guest in my house and he has the balls to demand I explain my presence?" Harry retorted sardonically. "Besides, this gives him plausible deniability."

"Plausible deniability for what?" Dumbledore asked in confusion.

"For not knowing about the assault on Malfoy Manor."

"What assault on Malfoy Manor?" The old wizard was completely bewildered at this point.

"The one that you, me and the DMLE are mounting in a few hours."

Dumbledore was silent for a few seconds before speaking again.

"Would I be correct in assuming that you believe Voldemort is currently at Malfoy Manor?"

"I don't 'believe' anything, I know it for a certainty. You and I are going there and putting Voldie in the fucking ground. Again."

"Harry, I don't think we want to be hasty about this." Albus cautioned. He didn't want to mention horcruxes here, but he didn't understand why Harry would rush off to a battle that wouldn't achieve anything.

"Hasty?" Harry repeated flatly. "Hasty would be charging in there half-cocked. This is a deliberate and planned assault on an enemy stronghold before his forces have time to recover. I'm going, but I'm not deluded enough to think I can match Voldemort in a fight just yet, which means that you're going too, even if I have to drag you there by the beard."

"You can't talk to the Headmaster like that!" Molly Weasley protested.

"He's become a bit too used to having his word taken as law because of people like you." Harry shot back "I'll talk to him however the fuck I please and right now that means telling him that he _is_ getting off his wrinkled old arse and fighting. You can't win a war by sitting on the defensive."

"Lad's got a point." Moody weighed in.

Albus held back a sigh as the Order looked at him for a reply. He didn't doubt that Harry's threat wasn't an idle one. The chances of Harry actually being able to force him to fight were slim, but he didn't want to quarrel with the younger wizard. They would need to work together to take care of Voldemort.

But Harry was just so impetuous! And so quick to resort to lethal means...

"Very well." He said heavily.

"I want in." Moody said with an ugly grin.

"I'm sure Bones won't mind that." Harry nodded firmly, more than happy to have him along. The mangled Auror was one of the very few Order members that was a proven fighter.

"What about the rest of us?" Ron Weasley complained.

Molly Weasley was about to rail on her youngest son for wanting to put himself in danger, but Harry cut her off with a derisive snort.

"The rest of you?" He repeated mockingly. "And what are the rest of you? Housewives, shopkeepers, bureaucrats and children so green you're still pissing grass. You'd be no use in a fight even if Bones would let you take part."

"You're not any older than me!" Ron yelled back, feeling personally attacked.

"Ronald, enough." Dumbledore interjected.

"But, Professor, I can fight!" Ron insisted.

Harry blasted him with a stunner.

"Ron!" Molly Weasley shrieked and dove for her son.

"Such a fighter." Harry said sarcastically, getting a rusty chuckle out of Moody.

"What is wrong with you?!" Molly demanded shrilly. "You can't just go around hexing people."

"He'll be fine, being magically stunned builds character." He said dismissively and turned back to Dumbledore. "Well this has been fun, but I have other things to do. Dumbledore, Moody, I'll be expecting you to show up at the Ministry in four hours. Fred, George, keep the grease stain unconscious until the excitement is over."

"Keep Snape unconscious?"

"It will be our distinct pleasure."

Harry smirked at their over-the-top acting and left. Those two had refused his offer of moving to Spellhaven, choosing to stay in Britain with their family despite the danger. Still, since their partnership was of a silent type, they might not be targeted. Not because of an association with him at least.

He hadn't known they'd joined the Order of the Phoenix, but wasn't too surprised either. What he assumed were Bill and Charlie were there too, meaning that pretty much every Weasley except Ginny and Percy were part of it now and Ginny might well insist on joining as soon as she became of age.

It was a strange feeling to consider Percy the smartest of the Weasleys, but there was no help for it. The others were clearly dumb enough to willingly wade into a war.

XXXXX

"Do people always stare at you like this?" Fleur asked as the four of them rode the Ministry lifts to the DMLE.

"Pretty much." Harry shrugged.

They were dressed in their basilisk hide armor and had drawn quite a lot of attention to themselves.

"I was getting some of this shite by proxy when our relationship became public." Dora said in disgust. "It's one of the things that made quitting easier."

"You can't blame them for staring at such beautiful women." Harry said smarmily.

"Flattery will get you everywhere." Fleur smirked.

"Even your knickers?"

" _Especially_ our knickers."

"Oi, don't be speaking for my knickers." Dora protested jokingly.

"I'm not wearing any knickers." Luna chirped.

"I wish I had time to take advantage of that." Harry said mournfully just as they arrived and the lift doors began opening.

"Don't worry, Harry. I still won't be wearing any knickers when we get home." Luna reassured.

That little comment was overheard by one of the DMLE's clerks and he quickly made his escape upon seeing who it had come from.

"There goes another crazy rumor." Dora groaned.

"Could be." Harry chuckled.

It didn't take them long to reach Amelia Bones' office. Moody and Dumbledore were already there.

"Hey, Moody." Dora greeted her old mentor.

"Tonks." The grizzled Auror growled in response, giving her a once over. "Nice armor."

"It is, isn't it?" Dora preened a bit.

"Potter." Amelia greeted.

"Madam Bones."

"You were right." She continued. "I've had Scrimgeour and a team of Aurors conducting surveilance and they reported a definite Death Eater presence at Malfoy Manor. No sign of Voldemort though."

Amelia would be damned if she'd cower before a name while a boy of seventeen said it with impunity.

"He's there." Harry assured. "And if he isn't then perhaps all the better. Easier to kill his minions that way."

"Kill, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"Well, take prisoner first. Kill later, once they've outlived their usefulness."

"We do not execute prisoners on a whim, Potter." Amelia said with a frown.

Harry produced a bit of parchment and handed it to her.

"Special dispensation from Fudge." He said as she started reading. "Azkaban has already proven unreliable, and as these are hostile forces intent on overthrowing the country rather than merely criminals, our _esteemed_ Minister has agreed to let me take custody of any prisoners instead of the DMLE."

Amelia read through the whole document and scowled at the written proof of Fudge's stupidity. The bumbling fool was so desperate for the problem to go away that he had granted a private citizen unheard of privileges. This was more than just a decree that allowed Potter to take prisoners into his custody, this was an exemption from legal repercussions for actions done in pursuit of Voldemort's defeat.

True, some concessions had to be made due to the situation. That was why she hadn't protested Dumbledore's inclusion despite him not technically having any business partaking in a DMLE operation. He was a powerful wizard and and would useful to counter the threat of Voldemort.

Fudge had taken this a step further though. He'd given Potter carte blanché to do whatever he wanted to the Death Eaters and Voldemort. He could crucify them all in the middle of Diagon Alley and still not break the law.

Still, there was an upside to this. It also classified Death Eaters as enemy combatants rather than criminals. That was an important distinction. Plus, Potter's exemption from legal repercsussions only applied for actions done to Death Eaters, so it would cease to be in effect once the situation was dealt with.

Amelia had a feeling that Potter was still counting on her hatred and other people's fear of the Death Eaters to keep them from protesting against this too much, which definitely would happened have if this bit of stupidity from Fudge had been broader in scope. She was still wondering how he'd learned about the deep loathing she had for the scum. It wasn't something that she really let show.

She briefly glanced over at him, meeting his green eyes with her blue ones.

 _Let me kill them for you_. The foreign thought popped into her head.

Amelia pushed him out with a glare. He had some nerve using Legilimency on the head of the DMLE, even if he hadn't attempted to probe her thoughts.

Still, the thought was tempting and it would certainly prevent any 'I was under the Imperius' nonsense once this was over.

But if she was being completely honest with herself, Amelia was going to take him up on that offer because she wanted revenge. The revenge that she had grudgingly set aside so long ago for Susan's sake.

"Harry, why do you need prisoners?" Dumbledore asked warily.

"The usual." Harry shrugged.

That was a subtle indication that he'd had prisoners before. Amelia pretended she'd hadn't heard it.

"You will, of course, share any information you gain from them?" She said instead, a note of warning in her tone.

"Of course."

Albus was not happy about any of this. He had agreed to come in the hopes of minimising casualties, but now it would seem that anyone that wasn't killed outright would be turned over to Harry's tender mercies anyway. Mercies he suspected were not very tender at all.

"What about Ms. Lovegood?" He said, in a last ditch effort to spare at least one person some horrors.

"What about me?" Luna quieried, head cocked sideways.

"You are still so very young, you should not throw away your innocence like this."

"Don't worry, Professor. Harry took away my innocence with his penis a year ago." Luna assured him.

Moody snorted out a laugh.

"Fleur and Dora will be with her at all times and she's more dangerous than she looks." Harry explained with an eyeroll.

Albus took in the petite little blonde with her dreamy expression and gentle smile. Well, it would certainly be hard for her to be _less_ dangerous than she looked. He could sense that she was rather powerful, but it was surprisingly difficult to keep that in mind when looking directly at her.

"Besides, I fear the places she'd bite if we left her behind."

Moody snorted again.

XXXXX

They portkeyed to the outskirts of Malfoy Manor, where Rufus Scrimgeour had set up an surveilance.

It was little more than a spot buried under concealing spells where the Aurors spied on the manor through its windows with omniculars, but it did its job.

"Anything new to report?" Amelia asked right away.

"No." Scrimgeour shook his head. "We've confirmed the presence of Robert Mulciber and Rabastan Lestrange, but all the others we've seen are unknown. Still no sign of You-Know-Who."

Everyone tensed as the sound of Parseltongue hissed through the air, eyes snapping towards Harry.

"What are you doing?" Amelia demanded.

"Just calling a friend." Harry smiled.

A few seconds later, Etal zoomed in and wrapped himself around his shoulders.

" _Can you tell how many there are in there?_ " Harry questioned.

" _More than thirty for certain, perhaps as many as fifty._ " Etal hissed in reply. " _One among them is very strong, much stronger than the others. He has the taste/smell of snake._ "

 _"Thank you._ " Harry hissed back and relayed the information to the others.

"Your...friend" Amelia started a bit skeptically. "can tell that much?"

"Don't underestimate the powers of a quetzalcoatl." Harry replied gravely, feeling Etal preen at the praise.

"We'll need to bring in a good chunk of the Auror Department to handle that many." Scrimgeour said with a frown.

"Agreed." Amelia nodded.

"And then there's You-Know-Who himself, if he's actually in there." Scrimgeour continued.

"He is. Dumbledore and I will handle him." Harry stated.

It took another hour to bring in the necessary reinforcements as well as polish up the plan.

Ironically, it was a very similar plan to the one Death Eaters frequently used when doing their own raids. Block the floo, set up Anti-Apparition and Anti-Portkey wards, attack with overhwelming force and surprise.

Harry was sorely tempted to suggest simply torching the place with Fiendfyre once they'd blocked it off. Unfortunately, as satisfying as that would be, it probably wasn't a good idea. It would undoubtedly be extremely beneficial in the short term, but potentially ruinous in the long term.

He still didn't know for certain if the Dark Bastard had entrusted another horcrux to one of his followers, but if he had, then Bellatrix was by far the most likely person to be given that privilege. If she was allowed to take the secret of its location to the grave with her, then he might as well abandon searching for the horcruxes entirely and move to Plan B or C or D.

Immortal wasn't the same as invincible after all. Unfortunately, all of his contingency plans required him to _capture_ Voldemort and that would be no easy feat.

Time passed slowly while the Aurors carefully crept around the grounds of the Malfoy estate, covered with concealing spells and invisibility cloaks, scanning for spells that might alert anyone inside to their presence. They couldn't screw up the casting or their targets could simply apparate away.

Dumbledore had already gone to the back side of the manor along with Moody at Harry's suggestion. That way, each prong of the assault would have a high-powered wizard to counter Voldemort.

Etal may not be able to get a precise read on the number of enemies inside, but he could easily detected where the most powerful presence was. Harry intended Dumbledore to encounter the Dark Lord first. The old man might have some very strange notions about how to fight Voldemort and his minions, but a battle to the death had a way of bringing things into focus.

Knowing that the call to advance would most likely come soon, Harry took out his gun and gave it a brief inspection.

He'd never used it in a combat situation before and it paid to be careful.

"What's that?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked curiously, staring at the weapon.

The tall Auror had been chatting quietly with Dora as they waited, just two former colleagues catching up.

"A gun." Harry answered blandly.

"One of those muggle firelegs?" Shacklebolt questioned further.

"Fire _arms_." Harry corrected with an exasperated sigh. _Wizards..._

Dora was snickering in the background.

"Is that really going to be any use in a battle with magic?" Shacklebolt asked skeptically.

"We'll see." Harry didn't care to convince the man of the virtues of projectile weaponry. Any wide-spectrum shield charm could block a bullet with little effort, that was true. Shame that bullets were faster than spells though.

"Is it enchanted?" Shacklebolt continued to ask.

"A little bit." The sound was greatly dimmed and the magazine expanded, but nothing more.

"You know it's illegal to enchant muggle items, right?"

"No, it's illegal to enchant things so that they perform functions that they aren't designed for. My enchantments only make it better at what it's designed for." Not that it would have stopped him in any case.

"Look sharp, people. Wards are going up any minute now." Bones's voice cut through the murmur of conversation.

Harry exchanged looks with his girls and they began making final preparations.

First was the hood of their basilisk hide coats and then a heavily enchanted cloth facemask to protect against any potential gas attacks...or the unlikely event of finding themselves underwater. After that came the string of persistent defensive spells that Harry had created, stolen shamelessly from Dungeons & Dragons for the most part.

" _Minor Globe of Invulnerability._ " Something to make low-power spells a non-issue. It wasn't much, but every little bit helped. He was still working on higher level Abjuration.

" _Protection From Fire._ " That one was self-explanatory.

" _Kinetic Energy Reversal._ " In case someone got cute with physical attacks or conjured projectiles or perhaps even guns.

" _Blur._ " An illusion to...well... _blur_ the caster. Made them harder to hit.

" _Mirror Image._ " Two illusionary copies of the caster appeared on each side, also blurred out by the previous spell to confuse the issue even further.

" _Shroud of Darkness._ " Both casters and mirror images, already blurred out, were now cloaked in heavy shadow. It was as much a psychological effect as it was to make it even harder to perceive the caster.

The surrounding Aurors looked at the four – now twelve – blurred out and shadow-shrouded spellcasters with no small amount of shock.

"What?" Harry asked, his voice trippled by the Mirror Image.

XXXXX

Voldemort frowned and stopped speaking mid-sentence. There was a strange feeling in the air...

"My lord?" A worried Bellatrix queried, always hyper-attentive to the moods of her master . "Is something wrong."

The Dark Lord was in an informal meeting with some of his closest followers. Most of the conversation was just ranting about mudbloods and muggles or declarations of horrible revenge against Harry Potter, but some of it was actual planning.

It was only a few moments later that he recognised the particular sense of subtle pressure characteristic of an Anti-Apparition Ward and his eyes widened in surprise.

There was really only one reason for that kind of ward to spring up around your place of residence without warning.

"Draco, raise the wards and tell everyone you see to gather in the main ball room!" He ordered urgently.

"My lord, what's going on?" Draco asked.

"Just do as I say." Voldemort snapped impatiently, resisting the urge to Crucio the stupid boy for asking even more stupid questions. "Mulciber, find and order everyone to the main ball room."

"At once, my lord!" Robert Mulciber said and ran off, knowing that his younger brother, just saved from Azkaban, was there.

"Avery, take a few men and defend the entrance hall. We are about to have company."

"We're under attack?" Travers asked while Avery sprinted out of the room, stunned.

He wasn't the only surprised. The Ministry was _never_ this efficient.

XXXXX

"There goes the element of surprise." Harry said wryly, though there was a scowl on his face. War wards, most of the old families had them around their manors, a remnant from before they were made illegal.

"How did they know?" Bones asked in frustration.

"Voldemort must have sensed the Anti-Apparition Ward going up." Harry guessed.

"It'll take us at least a day to take those down." She said in frustration.

"No, it won't."

"What are you-"

"Shh, I need to focus."

Amelia's face was full of outrage at being shushed, especially in front of her subordinates, but she simmered down upon seeing the spell forming in front of Harry. The power radiating from it was enough to tell her that it would probably be bad if he was distracted.

It took nearly half a minute for him to finish, as the spell was both fairly complex and one he hadn't practiced exhaustively. When it was ready, he cast it, sending a spiralling lance of magical energy spearing towards the wards

There was a bright, soundless flash and a jarring sense of discord that echoed in the magic of the more sensitive of those present, and then the wards collapsed.

Harry breathed out with a small grin. He'd always wanted to cast a Spellshear."Let's go."

His girls nodded firmly and moved forward with him. The Aurors shook off their surprise quickly and followed.

Spellfire came from the windows, but Harry made no move to defend himself, trusting that the girls would do their job just like they'd practiced.

And so they did. Luna and Dora worked together to set up a powerful shield that could hold until doomsday against this level of assault and Fleur conjured up a swarm of butterflies.

Just in time too, as the green light of the Killing Curse flew towards them, only to strike one of the butterflies and expend its power on it.

The Unforgivables might be unblockable by any magical shield, but they were still single target spells. Whether that target was a full grown man or a butterly made no difference.

The Aurors returned fire on the windows, but Fleur went to work on the ostentatious double doors with overpowered blasting curses, blowing them and a good chunk of the surrounding walls to pieces.

Being considerably outnumbered and outgunned, Voldemort's minions were forced to hide deeper inside the entrance hall to keep from getting hit by Fleur's blasting curses.

Harry had not fired a single spell yet aside from the Spellshear, but he had taken the time it took him to advance to prepare one of his favorites.

" _Electrosphere._ " He said aloud just for the sake of being dramatic, casting the spell at a grouping of three black-garbed wizards.

The spell started off as a tiny ball of crackling electricity, but it quickly expanded until it reached nearly four meters in diameter, more than enough to catch all three of the death eaters in its radius. Two of them managed to cast shields, but the uni-directional constructs were no use against the expanding web of energy, leaving all three spasming violently on the ground.

Not pausing to watch the effects, he turned the gun on what looked like the leader and fired several rounds into his legs. While he was no master marksman, he was competent enough and had learned how to use his magic to help him hit what he wanted to hit. Avery went down screaming with his legs full of bullets.

As a finisher, he grabbed the gaudy silver and emerald chandelier hanging from the ceiling with his will and hurled it at the last enemy standing, or the last enemy running to be precise, as that one had attempted to make a hasty strategic retreat.

Fleur had lashed another one with a white-hot flame whip while he tried to attack them, relieving him of an arm and cutting deep into his chest.

The Aurors had themselves put down the remaining two with massed fire.

It was important to note that a good chunk of Voldemort's current forces were made up of low-grade thungs and mercenaries gathered up from all acroos Europe, including all seven of those that Avery had hustled up to defend the entrance hall as he'd been ordered. They had joined the ranks of the Death Eaters for the promise of riches and power, but their talents lay more in their easy willingness to use violence against those less comfortable with it than in fighting off a concerted assault by a prepared enemy.

Voldemort had done his best to mould them into a unified fighting force, but it was hard to do that when you were starting out with what was frankly the scum of society. Just over a month and one operation against a poorly defended prison running on a skeleton crew of human guards and some non-hostile dementors wasn't enough.

Plus, with Harry having talked Fudge into classifying Voldemort and his servants as enemy combatants rather than criminals, the combat paradigm had shifted. There were no warnings, no calls to lay down wands and come quietly, nor was there any attempt to use the minimum required force. Amelia Bones had told her people that they had free reign to use anything short of the Unforgivables or Fiendfyre with no fear of the consequences. They wouldn't even have to file a report later.

Combine these facts with the unexpected nature of the attack, and it was no wonder that they performed so poorly.

Avery was still moaning and groaning in pain when Harry moved to loom over him and dispelled the Blur, Shroud of Darkness and Mirror Image and pulled down his facemask.

"Potter." Avery said painfully, a sinking feeling in his chest.

"Hello, Avery." Harry greeted with a smile. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Fuck you, Potter." Avery spat, sweat pouring down his face from the pain. "I might die here, but I take comfort in knowing that the Dark Lord will kill you and your whores."

"Die here?" Harry repeated. "Oh no, Avery. You'll not be dying here."

With that, he cast a white-hot flame cutter at Avery's thighs, amputating his legs and instantly cauterising the stumps. Couldn't have him bleeding out from bullet wounds after all.

Avery howled in pain, so Harry knocked him out with a stunner. Screaming still annoyed him as much as it ever did.

The Aurors looked more than a bit perturbed by the casual brutality, but Harry paid them no mind as Etal showed up again.

" _What can you taste/smell?_ " He asked.

" _The powerful one with the taste/smell of snake is down there along with many others. He is already engaged in battle with the winged squeaker's human._ " The quetzalcoatl hissed, pointing his tail at a hallway that went between the ostentatious double stairway. " _And there are more upstairs._ "

" _Thank you._ "

"Madam Bones." Harry called, bringing the woman's attention to himself. "Voldemort is down that way and Dumbledore is already fighting him, but there are an unknown number of hostiles upstairs."

Amelia nodded firmly in acknowledgement. The downed death eaters here had already been clapped in irons that would prevent escape, so they were ready to move on.

"Proudfoot, guard the prisoners. Shacklebolt, Dawlish, your teams have the upper floors. I'll take the rest with Potter to confront Voldemort."

"Girls, you go upstairs too."

"Harry..." Dora growled, glaring at him.

"Don't worry, I doubt Voldy will have the stomach to fight so many." Harry assured, getting terse nods from his girls. "Stay safe."

"You too."

They split up then, with Etal pointing the way towards Voldemort. Their progress was mostly unimpeded aside from one clever fool who thought he could hide in a store room of some kind. Harry had sensed him through the wall and made it explode outwards, nearly shredding the man with rocky shrapnel.

When they were nearly at that Malfoy Manor ball room, Harry asked Etal to go find the girls, not wanting to risk the quetzalcoatl getting killed by Voldemort.

XXXXX

Voldemort had little thought to spare for his situation as he dueled Dumbledore, but he was furious nonetheless.

In the entirety of his first attempt to topple Magical Britain, he had _never_ been attacked like this and he did not appreciate the experience.

At least he had managed to facilitate the escape of most of his inner circle. Dumbledore remained as soft as ever and his attempts to protect the pitiful Aurors that had come with him had been enough of a distraction to the ancient wizard that his servants had been able to break out. They were pursued by an Auror he recognised as Gawain Robards, but he was confident that even weakened by Azkaban, Bella and the others would make it to the edge of the Anti-Apparition Ward. He had also sent Nagini with them, both to protect his final horcrux from destruction and to aid in the escape of his servants while he stayed behind and dueled Dumbledore.

Though the action seemed noble, Voldemort was merely being practical. He _needed_ his servants and they would all be lost if they stayed to fight. It would be intolerable to lose them barely a day after he got them out of prison. He was not looking forward to hearing the report on what kind of losses his forces had sustained though.

Fighting a rearguard action was anathema to Voldemort, who was more comfortable with attack and he was greatly angered by it. How was he supposed to strike terror into people's hearts if he was on the retreat?

Still, there was nothing else for it. His enemies had won this time.

He was just about to make his escape when he sensed a Blood Boiling Curse coming at him from the side.

Reflexively, he swatted it away with a wave of his wand, only realising a moment afterwards that Dumbledore would never cast such a spell. Not only did the old man prefer Transfiguration, but he would never 'stoop' to using a dark curse.

Both Dumbledore and Voldemort stopped their battle and turned to the new arrival.

"Ah, Harry Potter." Voldemort said softly. "So good of you to join us."

The Dark Lord took in his prophesied nemesis and was grudgingly impressed. The boy he had last seen while possessing Quirrel was no more. He had become a grown man and a very powerful wizard. But of course, anyone that was foretold by prophecy to be capable of vanquishing him would have to be powerful.

He disregarded the Aurors behind him as irrelevant. They were nothing to him.

"Annoyed to be here." Harry snarked, showing no reaction to the inhuman features of his enemy.

"Truly?" Voldemort mocked. "Are you not even slightly interested in getting revenge on the one who killed your parents?"

"People die in wars and my parents chose to fight in one, so fuck them." Harry said coldly.

"Harry, you cannot mean that." Dumbledore protested, knowing that James and Lily would be heartbroken by such a declaration.

"Oh, I mean it alright. I'm more annoyed by the timing of his little jailbreak maneuver. Fudge came crying to me in the middle of the fucking night and interruped the birthday orgy I was having."

Voldemort blinked in surprise, then he started chuckling.

"What's wrong, Dumbledore? Is the Boy-Who-Lived not the shining hero you had hoped for?" He mocked.

"No." Dumbledore conceded. "But I am at least assured that he will not use his great power for evil."

"There is no good and evil, only power and those too weak to seek it." Voldemort sneered back.

"The only good is knowledge, the only evil is ignorance." Harry weighed in with his own creed.

Voldemort looked briefly thoughtful before giving a tiny nod. It was an eminently Ravenclaw thing to say and something that he could respect, unlike Dumbledore's self-righteousness.

"Socrates, Harry?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Ahzek Ahriman. Same quote though."

"I assume you are not referring to the Zoroastrian spirit of destruction?"

"Nope." Harry said without elaboration. He had no intention of explaining the circumstances and philosophies of a fictional sorcerer.

The slightly surreal conversation petered out, leaving the three powerful wizards staring watchfully at each other. The air felt heavy and ominous under the weight of their conflicting wills and the potential for violence fairly simmered between them.

Behind and slightly to the side of Harry, Amelia Bones and her Aurors stood tensely, reluctant to interfere in the standoff. Most of them remembered how dangerous it was to get in the middle of a pissing contest between the extremely powerful.

Voldemort knew that he should flee. He was outnumbered and had no hope of achieving anything much. The Aurors did not concern him. Indeed, they would be more of a hindrance to his enemies than anything else, which was why Dumbledore had sent away the Aurors that had come with him. although Voldemort doubted that Potter was the same sort of bleeding heart as Dumbledore and likely wouldn't sacrifice the advantage to defend them.

Potter he would like to test in combat, but likely would not have the chance with Dumbledore present. That was a pity, as it would have been interesting to see his skill with wandless magic. He had sensed the ripples in his aura during their conversation that he guessed meant that Potter had been forming a spell while they spoke.

Still, his pride prevented him from running so easily, so he stood and watched his enemies with wary red eyes.

Dumbledore waited for the hostilities to begin again and pondered Lily Potter's sacrifice. Would it still protect young Harry?

The answer to that was no, it would not. Dumbledore had himself diluted the power of that protection when he had broadened it in scope to defend from more than just Voldemort and bound it to Petunia Dursley. It had been weakened further by the lack of care that Lily's sister had for her nephew and then further still when he was sent away. The last of it fizzled out due to Harry's own stubborn desire to be the master of his own destiny, within which was implicit that he could not rely on others to shield him, including his parents.

Harry wondered if he was lucky enough to kill Voldemort with a cheap shot. Probably not. He also wondered what sort of trick Voldemort had up his sleeve that would allow him to disengage from this fight with the Anti-Apparition Ward still up. It had to be quite something if he was confident enough in it to wait around while more enemies were on the way.

Something had to give eventually and the silent standoff didn't last long. In this case, it was one of the younger Aurors that lost their nerve and fired off a spell, causing the situation to explode into violence.

Voldemort easily sidestepped the spell and retaliated with a Killing Curse. The bright green spell struck true and the Auror dropped bonelessly to the ground.

"Jenkins!" Someone yelled.

Harry had cast his own pre-prepared spell almost at the same time as Voldemort, the Forbidden Sun roaring out towards the Dark Lord.

Voldemort practically glided across the room, not willing to try blocking it. This also caused all the spells cast by the other Aurors to miss him completely. He quickly fired off several more spells at the Aurors during his dodge, forcing Dumbledore to block them.

The Forbidden Sun crashed into the floor a ways behind the spot where Voldemort had been previously standing, exploding into unnatural red flames and leaving behind a small pool of lava.

Harry immediately started firing his gun, but Voldemort already had a shield up, easily deflecting both the bullets and the spells sent at him by the Aurors.

Voldemort quickly tired of being on the defensive and pushed more power into his shield, then he spelled it with a quick persistence charm. It wouldn't last long on its own, but long enough for him to retaliate with a volley of deadly spells.

The Aurors scattered to avoid them and Dumbledore conjured up marble slabs to protect those that weren't fast enough.

Harry slapped away the Organ Rupturing Curse that had been sent at him with his bare hand, encased in a small but extremely powerful shield. He retaliated with a wide-area Cutting Curse and a hail of bullets that forced Voldemort to shield himself again.

Dumbledore scooped up some of the cooling lava left over from the Forbidden Sun and threw it in his old student's direction.

Voldemort was quickly put back on the defensive by the numbers arrayed against him and he had to spend most of his time turtling behind a shield even as he dodged. When a spell from Harry covered the marble floor near him in grease and made his footing precarious, he knew that it was time to leave, preferably before that grease was ignited.

With an infuriated roar, he sent out a wave of force that threw Amelia and her Aurors to the ground. Harry and Dumbledore managed to stay on their feet.

"We will meet again, Harry Potter." Voldemort promised softly and flew out of the hole in the wall that his followers had previously escaped through.

"That's a neat trick." Harry said, staring after the rapidly retreating form of the Dark Lord doing a fucking Superman impression with narrowed eyes. He was going to steal that trick.

Senior Auror Robards and his team showed up soon after, hauling four prisoners behind them.

"We only got Travers and three unknowns, ma'am." Robards reported, scowling.

The fleeing Death Eaters, though weakened by the years spent in Azkaban, were driven by a powerful urge to not return there anytime soon. They had pushed themselves well beyond their limits in their desire to escape and would be paying for it later, but escaped they had.

Amelia wasn't happy to hear that either, especially on top of seeing Voldemort returned with her own eyes and having the bastard escape. Still, this was the most successful operation ever mounted against the Death Eaters by far, so she couldn't complain too much.

"Alright, let's go see what the others caught." She said.

They found the others in the Malfoy drawing room.

The thing that immediately caught everyone's attention was the seventeen badly abused and traumatised looking women huddled together, wrapped in robes and blankets. Harry could tell at a glance that they were non-magical and it wasn't hard to guess why they were here, especially with the fury practically radiating from Dora.

Shacklebolt made his way over to his boss.

"Ma'am, we found twelve Death Eaters on the upper floors. Rabastan Lestrange, the Mulciber brothers and nine unknowns. Two of the unknowns are dead." He reported and then briefly hesitated before continuing. "And we also found Barty Crouch, he's showing signs of severe Cruciatus exposure."

Amelia rubbed her forehead with a grimace. That explained where her predecessor had vanished off to.

"Good work, Shacklebolt." She said anyway, glancing over at the pile of unsconscious, wounded, maimed and if her eyes didn't deceive her, castrated Death Eaters stuffed into a corner. "The women...?"

"Muggle prisoners." Shacklebolt said with a scowl.

"Madam Bones." Dawlish butted in, scowling for a different reason altogether. "Former Auror Nymphadora Tonks has been interfering with procedure."

"How so?" Amelia asked, glancing at the clearly fuming metamorphmagus that was staring at the back of Dawlish's head as if she found his existence personally offensive.

"She wouldn't let us call the obliviators so that these muggles could be returned to their own kind." Dawlish explained.

Harry sighed as he saw his oldest girlfriend swell even further in rage and start making her way towards the idiot Auror with deliberation in every step. Her eyes were nearly glowing orange under an agitated pile of spiked, equally flaming hair. That was a sure sign that she was well beyond the point of being dangerously pissed off.

"Turn around, Dawlish." He said wryly.

"Huh?" Dawlish said eloquently and did as he was told. Just in time to take a fist to the jaw that sent him spinning to the floor.

Harry was impressed. Dora had been playing around with her muscle and bone density lately, but this was the first time he'd seen a practical demonstration.

"I told you to keep your stupid mouth shut if you know what's good for you, Dawlish." She bit out, glaring at the man that was currently spitting out broken teeth.

"Tonks!" Amelia exclaimed sternly. "You can't just hit one of my Aurors!"

The metamorphmagus turned her glare on her former boss, causing Amelia to briefly fear that she'd soon find herself spitting out teeth right next to Dawlish. To her relief, Tonks merely snarled and stormed back to where she'd been before.

"Best let it go." Harry advised quietly. "Dora has a bit of a temper about this sort of thing."

That was an understatement of epic proportions if ever there was one. Their Death Eater hunts had revealed several ugly truths about the magical world, but the one that had struck Dora the hardest had been how _common_ an occurence the rape of non-magical women paired with a memory wipe was.

Harry couldn't say that he was terribly surprised by it. People were shit and could almost never be trusted to have power over others. An isolated society with special powers that looked down on ordinary people was guaranteed to breed types with superior attitudes that would think nothing of having some 'fun' with an unsuspecting mundane girl and then wiping her mind. Besides, what was the harm? It's not like she'd remember anything, right? He would be terribly surprised if it was just the wizard-raised doing it too. Muggleborns could be arseholes just the same as anyone else.

It also explained the numbers discrepancy. Harry had once tried to calculate the chances of a magical child being born to non-magical parents in the absence of any other factors. He lacked a lot of the information necessary to get an accurate estimate, but he had managed to ballpark the probability to somewhere between one in a million and one in ten million.

First generation magicalis supposedly made up about 10% of the three British magi population, and many of them didn't stay in the country because of the prejudices leveled against them. That added up to more than three hundred supposed muggleborns. Even with the population difference between the magical and mundane worlds, the numbers simply didn't match up, not by a long shot.

The obvious conclusion was that lonely wizards went around raping non-magical women and sometimes forgot – or didn't bother – to apply contraceptive spells. This theory was corroborated by several things. First, by the fact that the number of new muggleborns had lessened over time as abortion became less of a taboo prospect in non-magical culture and more damningly, when one wizard they'd taken captive – someone that was sympathetic to Voldemort's cause but too young to have ever been a Death Eater – talked about a 'Hogwarts graduation tradition' that people in certain circles had.

Dora had been furious beyond words. That was the moment that she stopped keeping an eye on what he did with the prisoners. She still made sure that he didn't create some kind of abomination with his experiments, but she no longer cared if he tore apart their minds for the sake of practicing Legilimency or if he force fed them experimental potions just to see what would happen or any number of other cruelties.

Perhaps the worst part of it for her was the DMLE's attitude to that kind of thing. Namely, that it simply didn't care much as long as the Statute of Secrecy wasn't breached. Oh, they'd arrest people if they were caught in the act, but they didn't really bother to even _try_ catching those that did it. It was just cultural background noise that nobody really paid attention to.

That unpleasant revelation had broken something in Dora. She'd once truly believed that the DMLE and the Auror Corps were the good guys, but then it turned out that they were just as rotten as the rest of the Ministry in their own way. She couldn't even trust that her former co-workers hadn't engaged in that kind of 'fun' at some point. That was no doubt why Dawlish had received his abrupt dental makeover. Harry wouldn't be surprised if Dawlish actually had done something like that at one point or even if he still did it. His attitude towards the women here was dissmisive enough for it to be possible.

Luna and Fleur had more mild reactions, fortunately. Luna had been upset, but had cheered herself up with cuddles and Fleur...

Well, Fleur was a veela and veela were removed from the non-magical world not just by culture but also by species. A veela's draw towards magic made mundanes feel not quite 'real' to them, in a manner of speaking. While she did feel bad for the women, she wasn't able to really empathise the way that Dora did.

"Harry, we're taking these women with us too." Dora said a few minutes after punching out Dawlish, now somewhat calmer but her tone was steely and uncompromising. She didn't trust St. Mungo's enough to take them there either.

"Alright." Harry nodded agreeably. There were healers on Spellhaven that could look after them and mundane abortion clinics could be found if they were needed. Magical healers tended to have a lot of asinine anti-abortion ideas. Then they could be obliviated and returned to their families. It would be kinder than what the Ministry would do, which was to simply wipe their minds and leave them somewhere in London.

It was technically illegal for them to take custody of the women of course, but Harry was sure that he could convince Fudge to make it legal.

And speaking of things being made legal, that reminded Harry of something.

"Teeny, Kreacher." He said, drawing almost everyone's attention.

The two house elves popped in and looked at him expectantly.

"Master called?" They chorused.

"Indeed I did." He replied with amusement. "As we discussed earlier, take everything that isn't nailed down, starting with the library and any enchanted items, but be on the lookout for any cursed shite."

"Potter, what are you doing?" Amelia demanded as the two elves popped away, having a vague bad feeling about this.

"Looting this dump." Harry answered blithely. "Fudge agreed with me that letting terrorists keep their wealth was dumb, so every identified Death Eater will have their possessions seized. I get first dibs so that I can check for cursed items."

That was a load of horseshit. He got first dibs because Fudge wanted the 10% cut he'd been promised from the sale of furniture and other valuables, something that he couldn't take if the Ministry seized the assets in an official capacity.

"I see that you haven't grown out of your mercenary ways yet, Harry." Dumbledore sighed in disappointment.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Harry chuckled, making a mental note to come back here once Teeny and Kreacher were done looting it so that he could burn the place to the ground.

That way he could honestly say, once he'd killed Draco, that he'd killed House Malfoy's men, fucked its women, and finally pillaged and burned its home.

XXXXX

 _August 3rd, 2017. Vienna._

Bjomolf put down the _Daily Prophet_ he'd been reading with a chuckle.

"Well played, Harry. Well played indeed." He said with a small grin. The front page of the magical newspaper was plastered with a sensationalised story of how Voldemort had been driven out of Britain by the combined efforts of Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore and the DMLE.

"I thought you would be upset." Zuzanna, his childe and assistant for more than sixty years, commented.

"Not at all." Bjomolf chuckled again. It was hardly the first time things had deviated from the script in the past one hundred or so years since the great plan was conceived, nor was it even close to being the most surprising deviation. "True, it will slow things down a little, but that may well be for the best. Haste has almost always betrayed us in the past."


	42. Chapter 42

**Quick update this time. The weather hath been merciful. I don't expect the ball of unholy fire hanging in the sky to politely fuck off for at least another month and a half, so don't expect another update next week.**

 **Joe Lawyer has been invaluable in polishing the rough edges off the chapter as always. Who knows where the plot might have derailed if not for his feedback? Butterfly wings and all that shit.**

XXXXX

 _August 3rd. Spellhaven, Potter Château basement._

Rabastan Lestrange abruptly jerked awake and tried to get up, only to find himself restrained.

He quickly recalled his last memories. Having some fun with one of the muggle prisoners, then Aurors knocking down the door. A flash of pain as his right arm was blasted off. Furious orange eyes glaring out of the deep shadows of a hood. The Castration Hex...

The pain of his wounds suddenly registered. The seared nerves of his severed arm and genitalia made him scream in horror and thrash in his bindings, as if seeing them would make it not true.

The struggling exhausted him quickly, his body still wasted and ruined from the long stay in Azkaban.

"Are you done?" A man asked blandly as he stepped out of the darkness .

"Potter." Rabastan said hatefully, recognising him from the picture he'd seen in the _Daily Prophet_. "I'm going to kill you for this. What happened to the Longbottoms will seem like paradise compared to what I'll do to you and your whores."

Potter looked neither insulted nor threatened, merely amused.

"Well then, I suppose I best finish up with you before you can manage some kind of miracle escape and carry out your threats without a wand, arm or cock." He mocked.

Rabastan wasn't sure how to reply to that and merely glared fiercely into Potter's bright green eyes. Then he realised that he couldn't look away and that he was being attacked with Legilimency.

As a scion of the Lestrange family, Rabastan had been taught Occlumency from a young age and had been reasonably proficient in the discipline. Had been, before over a decade and a half of keeping company with dementors had left his mind a mess. He hadn't had nearly enough time to put himself back together and regain the equanimity required to properly defend his mind.

Even so, Rabastan quickly began to doubt that it would have done him much good. Potter's mental assault was incredibly powerful, piercing through his feeble defenses like a diamond-hard spear. His vision swam as memories rushed past his thoughts against his will, memories of his interactions with the Dark Lord.

Rabastan began sweating heavily as his mind was violated. Accepting that it was no use trying to shut Potter out, he instead attemped to deflect his attention by throwing inconsequential memories in his way, but it was no good. The mental assault was too focused and sharp to be diverted and the violation continued.

In a last ditch attempt, Rabastan tried to counter-attack. He had never learned Legilimency, but with the connection already open, it was easy enough to do. Even a complete novice could manage.

He threw everything he had into his attack, expecting to find powerful defenses. To his shock, he fell into Potter's mind practically without resistance, like a man throwing his full weight at what he thought was a sturdy oak door only to find that it was as thin as paper.

His sense of reality twisted and faded as he was assaulted by memories not his own.

 _Horcruxes. The diary. Slytherin's Locket. Harry himself. Destroyed. The Dark Lord inching back towards mortality with every step._

Rabastan was shocked and awed at what the Dark Lord had done. The great wizard he followed was even greater than he'd thought, but Potter was working to undo it.

Instantly, his mind turned to what other possible objects the Dark Lord may have hidden his soul in. Bella, Bella would definitely have been entrusted with guarding one. She was his favorite.

With a jolt, Rabastan realised that Potter had turned his counter-attack back on itself and was now dredging up his every interaction with Bellatrix in excruciating detail for any hint as to where she might have hidden it.

This time there was no hope of putting up even a feeble defense, not in a mind not his own. Potter was not letting him go, instead using his own mind as a prison and prisoners were at the mercy of the warden. It was the opposite of a possession, which was an ability available to highly skilled legilimancers such as the Dark Lord, and Rabastan did not have the required skill in the Mind Arts to free himself.

Rabastan had had the Dark Lord use Legilimency on him twice before and it had been unpleasant, but it was nothing compared to what he felt now. While his mind was being raped for all of its secrets, his sense of self was being assault by the nature of his prison.

It was worse than the dementors. For all their horror, they were still an outside threat. Rabastan was now trapped in the Void without the luxury of having a body to provide a buffer, leaving his mind exposed to it completely. It was terrible and black and filled with a darkness that had never known light, laden with a silence that swallowed all sound. Its greedy chill leeched away every flicker of emotion and the weight of its emptiness threatened to grind his spirit to ash.

Rabastan struggled and railed against it with everything he was, threw every shred of hatred at his captor, but it was as if he was submerged up to his head in quicksand. The more he fought, the deeper he sank.

 _The Dark Lord._ He thought desperately, clinging to what had become his greatest pillar of strength during his long imprisonment in Azkaban. _The Dark Lord is eternal and invincible. Even if I fall, he will prevail and rule the world forever._

Rabastan was truly loyal to his chosen master, loyal enough to go to prison rather than denounce him. Loyal enough that he would gladly die in his service. It had always been a source of strength to him.

But even that did not sustain him now. Harry Potter did not see Voldemort's steps to make himself immortal as a great deed, but as the actions of a coward afraid to die. The Dark Lord's ambitions of world domination were dismissed as stupid and pointless. In this realm of thought where Harry Potter was the nearest thing to a god, that had more weight than gravity did in the real world. Even Rabastan's fanaticism withered in those conditions and he was left with nothing.

XXXXX

Harry frowned thoughtfully to himself, ignoring Lestrange's sobbing. That reverse possession trick tended to have that effect on people. Few had the mental fortitude to endure the nihilistic hell he'd created inside his mind with his knowledge of the Void. Pity that it only worked on those with mediocre skill in the Mind Arts.

Another dead end in the horcrux search, apart from yet another finger pointing at Bellatrix. Perhaps Rodolphus might have known something, seeing as he used to be married to the crazy bitch before Harry had annulled it. More than likely he would have to get his hands on Bellatrix herself though.

Ah well, a problem for another day. For now, he had to study the active Dark Mark in order to develop a way to block Voldemort from tracking its location. Keeping his marked prisoners locked up in trunks here in the chateâu wasn't very practical and he wanted to move them to Ravenhead as soon as possible. Maybe he could even find a way to trace the connection back to Voldemort or the other Death Eaters.

XXXXX

 _August 3rd. Somewhere in Russia._

Even a full day after the disaster at Malfoy Manor, Voldemort was still enraged. He'd lost twenty-five of his forty-six servants in one fell swoop, three of which he had only just gotten out of Azkaban. The seven remaining ones had pushed themselves nearly to the point of death in order to escape and would be of no use for at least a week, nevermind how much longer their recovery from Azkaban would take. That left him with fourteen able-bodied wizards that were in a state of mild shock due to the immediate and brutal consequences they'd suffered for attacking Azkaban.

Perhaps even worse, he had been forced to flee Britain entirely and then Albania as well just to be on the safe side. It was intolerable. People fled from Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, not the other way around!

While pride was a significant reason for Voldemort's rage, there was also a practical component to it. His followers would begin to have doubts about following him if he couldn't show that he was more powerful than Harry Potter.

Buried beneath the rage was the fear that Potter might actually be stronger than him. If not now, then in the future. Though their battle had been brief, Voldemort had clearly seen that his young nemesis possessed far greater skill with wandless magic than he did. While that alone would not decide the victor of a battle between them, it implied a troubling depth of potential. Still, as long as he was immortal Potter was no real threat.

But he had no time to think about that now. Before anything else, he needed to make sure that there wasn't another Malfoy Manor. The problem was that Voldemort didn't know _how_ they had been found.

Lacking that information, he had no choice but to put up a paranoid number of safeguards. First was casting every concealment, obscuration and alarm spell that he knew on the large, remote house that they had taken over after murdering its muggle occupants. Then the emergency escape routes in the form of portkeys. Lastly came thoughts of perhaps splitting his forces up so that they couldn't all be ambushed at once again.

He was just pondering who could be trusted to lead the individual groups of Death Eaters that he felt someone poking around the magic of the Dark Mark and his eyes widened in outrage. It was coming from Rabastan, which meant Potter again.

XXXXX

 _Spellhaven._

Harry scowled as the Dark Mark on Lestrange's arm suddenly flared with magic and sealed itself, causing the man to scream in pain.

Then he shrugged philosophically. The chances of Voldemort not sensing someone fiddling around a spell linked to him had always been extremely low. At least he had managed to isolate its unique signature and could now create spells that targeted the Dark Mark specifically. With this knowledge, he could create an obscuration ward that would prevent Voldemort from divining the location of his marked followers if they were under it and a detection spell that would reveal the presence of the Dark Mark.

Hopefully it would allow him to track down more Death Eaters, but the obscuration ward would have to be first so that he could start moving the prisoners to Ravenhead.

XXXXX

 _August 7th. British Ministry of Magic, Amelia Bones' office._

"Nothing." Harry said with a scowl. "Either Voldemort has hidden himself much better this time, or they've left Albania entirely and gone into hiding somewhere much further away."

"I suppose it was too much to hope for that we've be able to hound him ceaselessly no matter where he went." Amelia sighed, unhappy but not surprised.

XXXXX

 _August 9th, 2017. Hogwarts Headmaster's office._

"Every so often, a man encounters something so monumentally stupid that he can do nothing but stare in awe." Harry said, staring at Dumbledore's blackened hand. "In case you haven't figured it out yet, putting on a heavily cursed ring is one such thing."

Albus felt that he probably deserved that. He'd gone to the old Gaunt shack as part of his investigation into locations of significance to Voldemort and discovered the place to be protected rather more heavily than old Morfin Gaunt's abilities allowed. Seeing as it was well within his ability to undo those protections he had done so, even if having a parseltongue such as Harry along would have made it much easier.

He had reasoned to himself that just because Voldemort had apparently come back and warded the place was no guarantee that a horcurx was present, so he had decided to investigate on his own until he could confirm it. Then he had recognised the Resurrection Stone set into the ring and lost all sense in his temptation. Foolish. Even with the powerful compulsion charm on the ring, he should have known better.

"Yes, Severus has already made that eminently clear." Albus sighed.

"And over a useless trinket like the Resurrection Stone on top of it. Honestly, Dumbledore, how did you ever convince anyone that you were wise? Did they just see your ridiculous beard and assume?" Harry continued.

"Perhaps." Albus replied with a touch of humor as he reflected on the words.

While he could say without hubris that he did have some wisdom to him, Albus was well aware that it was a wisdom born from the many mistakes of his life. And what mistakes they were...

Hearing Harry call the Resurrection Stone, an artifact that Albus had coveted for over a century, a useless trinket...well, it made him wonder how this boy of seventeen could have more sense than him. The worst part was that now that he finally had the Deathly Hallow in his possession, he found himself lacking the courage to actually summon Ariana, fearing to learn that it had indeed been his spell that had taken her life. Useless trinket indeed.

"How are you still alive anyway? I know that the Withering Curse doesn't work that slow."

"My own skill combined with Severus' mastery of the Dark Arts and Potions was sufficient to contain it. Although he tells me that a year is the best I can hope for before the curse kills me." Albus answered, not even surprised that Harry would be familiar with the curse.

"A potion, huh?" Harry mused. "Something to fortify the body against foreign magic?"

"Just so."

"Hmm." Harry peered at the affected hand. "You know, I think I might be able to give you a bit more than a year."

Albus blinked in surprise. "You believe you can contain the curse even further?"

"I'm thinking that I might be able to contain it completely."

"You are certainly welcome to try." Albus offered. He was in no particular hurry to die, especially not in the horrid manner that this curse would do it in.

"We'll need to have Pomfrey and Snape present though, best to just do this in the infirmary actually."

"Let us make our way to Poppy's domain then."

XXXXX

Both Poppy Pomfrey and Severus Snape were semi-permanent residents of Hogwarts, so summoning them to the school was achieved without issue.

The issues cropped up when the specifics of how Harry planned to help Dumbledore came up.

"Could the house elf named Blinky please pop in? Excellent. Now, Blinky, I need you to find me an axe or even better, a guillotine, with a very sharp blade at least thirty centimeters long. I'm sure there's one lying around the castle somewhere."

"Potter, I am not letting you perform an amateur amputation of the Headmaster's hand in my infirmary!" Poppy raged.

"Nobody asked you. Just do your job once the blood starts flying." Harry replied dismissively.

Poppy was stunned speechless by the audacity. To talk to her like that, in _her_ infirmary...the nerve of the boy!

Sitting on one of the beds, Albus didn't bother hiding his amusement. "Harry, while I can appreciate a good amputation as much as the next man, I am afraid the curse has taken hold deeper than merely the flesh. Cutting off my hand will not save me, else I would have done it already."

Harry gave the much older wizard a look of contempt. "I know that, what kind of third-rate wizard do you take me for?"

"The Potter kind." Severus muttered. He was still feeling sour and resentful about what had happened the last time he'd seen Potter. Although he had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that getting stunned did indeed provide him with a good excuse when Voldemort demanded to know why he hadn't received any warning of the attack from his spy.

"What is it you intend to do then?" Albus asked curiously.

"Have you ever heard the tale of Horror the Ancient?" Harry asked, trying desperately not to smile or worse, cackle. _Who would've thought that Dora's insistence that we watch 'The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy' would actually be good for something._

"I can't say that I have." Albus answered, now intrigued. He would have expected to hear of any wizard with such a distinctive name.

"Allow me to share it then. As the story goes, Horror was a man plagued by fears many and varied, yet his greatest wish was to be brave beyond brave. One day, he devised a plan that would allow him to achieve his dreams. He magically channeled all his fears into his left hand and then lopped it off, which eventually became an artifact of terrible power known as the Left Hand of Horror. Alas, in his haste to rid himself of all fear, Horror forgot that he was left-handed."

While Severus and Poppy stared at Harry with incredulity and no small measure of skepticism, Albus found the story both amusing and a valuable anecdote on the dangers of doing before thinking. More to the point, he understood what Harry was suggesting.

"You propose then to channel the curse completely into the flesh of my already ruined hand and then amputate it?"

"Pretty much."

"Severus, what do you think?"

"It could work, if Potter has the skill and power necessary to bind the curse to your hand." The words were drawn out of Snape as if they pained him.

Blinky chose that moment to pop back in to the infirmary.

"Blinky could not find a guillotine, Harry Potter sir." Blinky said apologetically, balancing a large axe in her small hands. "But there be lots of axes in the castle."

Harry relieved her of the burden and looked at the weapon with bemusement. "What the fuck is a Dane axe doing in Hogwarts? Did Vikings try to raid it or something? No matter, this is exactly what I needed. Thank you, Blinky."

"Be's you needing anything else, Harry Potter sir?" The house elf asked hopefully.

Harry thought it over while experimentally swinging the axe. "Yes, actually. A block of wood."

Poppy's outrage deflated slightly as the elf popped away again. She could see that the idiot men were determined to go through with this despite her protests. It wasn't like she was a healer or anything!

"Can't you at least use a spell to do the amputation if you are going to do this?" She groused.

"Nope, might destabilise the binding." Harry replied airily.

"Bah, fine. I'll get the potions ready then." She grumbled and left, continuing to mutter under her breath the entire way.

"I see that hag's bedside manner hasn't improved any." Harry commented once she was gone.

"Harry, that isn't very nice of you." Dumbledore chastised gently.

"I'm not a very nice man."

It took a few minutes for Blinky to show up with the requested block of wood and Pomfrey was already bustling around with her potions by then.

"Here you go, Albus. Something to numb the pain." She said, holding out a concoction.

"Hold up." Harry interrupted. "Is that going to slow his mind in any way?"

"A little." Poppy answered aprehensively, already anticipating what the clearly unstable teenager was going to say in response.

Harry didn't disappoint.

"Then he can't have it. I'll need his cooperation to do this properly and for that he needs to be focused."

"You can't expect him to have his hand chopped off without any anesthetic!" Poppy exploded.

"Well it's up to him in the end, but if the potion screws up our attempts to do this then expect me to say that I told you so in an extremely condescending manner." Harry shrugged uncaringly.

"It's alright, Poppy." Albus said soothingly and placed his withered hand on the block of wood. "A little pain is a small price to pay for my life."

Poppy made a sound like grinding rocks and threw her arms up in frustration.

"Albus, I cannot condone this." The healer tried one last time.

"I agree with Poppy, Albus." Severus said with a sneer directed at Harry. "We have no idea how much of Potter's confidence is just hot air and I'll note that he hasn't mentioned the risks involved."

"If we fail, it would shorten his time in this world by months at best, kill him instantly at worst." Harry provided.

Albus sighed tiredly as Poppy erupted into another protest. While those were significant risks, it wasn't as if he had much to lose either. He had already been making tentative plans to have Severus kill him and thus gain Voldemort's complete trust, so that wouldn't change if his life was shortened further.

"We will proceed." He said simply.

"Finally." Harry said with a roll of his eyes, taking out his little used wand. He didn't want to touch that curse without a buffer and potentially contracting it himself. "Now then...Dumbledore, I'll need you to pull your magic away from your hand while I channel it into the flesh. This _will_ hurt, but you can't let your control slip or the curse will latch back on. Snape, you're on binding duty."

What followed was a half hour of tense silence as Harry and Dumbledore worked together to separate the stubborn curse from the old wizard's magic. Both of them were sweating under the mental focus required and Dumbledore was also gritting his teeth against the pain as his hand withered completely, but he didn't make a sound, something that won him some grudging respect from Harry.

Snape had the easiest job by far, but he too was glad when it was over. The curse had been cast by a wizard far more powerful than him and it showed in the effort it took him to contain it.

"Alright, now hold that hand and curse steady...and don't flinch." Harry said, hefting the Dane axe after catching his breath.

Albus nodded silently. His hand now looked like something you'd find on a five thousand-year-old mummy and he could feel the vicious curse attempting to escape the binding that Severus had placed on it. Honestly, he would be glad to be rid of the hand at this point, as it was causing him quite a bit of pain.

Harry placed the blade of the axe a an inch upwards from the place of the binding, just to be on the safe side. He was silently hoping that he didn't miss, having never swung an axe before in his life.

Fortunately, he was a wizard of great skill and knew how to use his magic to alter probability on this kind of thing even without a structured spell. Guided by both hand and magic, the axe struck true and severed the cursed hand exactly where he wanted it to.

While Dumbledore cried out in pain, Pomfrey plied him with potions and Snape cast diagnostic spells to check if the old wizard was now free of the curse, Harry helped himself to one of the bedsheets and wrapped the severed hand in it.

"I'll be taking your hand as payment for serviced rendered, Dumbledore." Harry said airily. "This has been fun, we should do it again someday. Toodles"

And then he swaggered out of the room with his prize in hand, pun very much intended.

Albus, who was in the middle of being force fed a potion by the greatly agitated mistress of the infirmary, went wide-eyed as he realised something.

The Resurrection Stone was still in the ring, which was on his hand! The hand that Harry had just taken with him. He'd just gotten swindled out of one of the Hallows.

XXXXX

Harry was still chuckling to himself as he placed the Right Hand of Dumbledore on a shelf in Ravenhead. The Withering Curse was still in there and there was no telling when that kind of thing might come in handy, pun intended, so he wasn't going to throw it away.

But the real prize was the Resurrection Stone. Although he had boasted to Dumbledore that he could make a new set of Deathly Hallows, he had neglected to mention the time or potential sacrifice it would take him to actually do it.

The Elder Wand didn't really interest him. For all the stories about it being invincible, he knew what it truly was. Being an artifact of Dark, the wand would give quite a bit of extra zing to any offensive spells, especially ones that were cast with lethal intent. That was all and it was boring.

The Resurrection Stone though...that could help him advance his studies of Necromancy considerably. Combined with his dabbling in fleshcrafting, he might even figure out how to perform a true resurrection or how to create a proper revenant rather than just mindless zombies...inferi...whatever you wanted to call them.

Unfortunately, Harry also had the sneaking suspicion that this might be something that his girls were likely to put the kibosh on. He didn't personally see what the problem with dragging the souls of his enemies back to the land of the living and putting them into enslaved bodies was, but it sounded like one of those 'crimes against basic human decency' that Dora sometimes talked about. Feh.

Ah well, there was no guarantee that he'd actually be able to do it anyway. It certainly wouldn't be the first time that one of his projects bore no fruit.

If nothing else, having the Resurrection Stone meant that he could now also interrogate the dead, although it would be best not to rely on it. He couldn't threaten the dead if they weren't feeling cooperative after all.

The thought of summoning his parents or Sirius just to talk to them never even crossed Harry's mind.

XXXXX

Luna's first thought when Harry showed them the Resurrection Stone was of her parents.

"Gimme!" She squeed, snatching it from his hand. "Now I can introduce you all to Mummy and Daddy without us dying first."

"And here I thought that I was done with the in-laws." Harry said, bemused.

"Oh, you're never done with the in-laws." Dora said, nodding sagely as if she was imparting some great wisdom.

Luna had completed the summoning by this point and was beaming as the forms of Xenophilius and Pandora Lovegood faded into reality.

Xeno looked much like he had back when he'd died, with long, pale blond hair and an absent smile.

Pandora's hair was darker, but still blonde. It was immediately clear that Luna got her petite build and slightly protuberant eyes from her mother.

"Luna, my little girl." Pandora said emotionally. "You're all grown up."

"Hello again, Turnip." Xeno said, smiling at his daughter as if seeing a dream.

"Mum, Dad." Luna said happily. "I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Harry Potter and our girlfriend, Nymphadora Tonks and our other girlfriend, Fleur Delacour."

"Thank you for making Luna part of your orgies." Xeno said gratefully. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."

"Sure." Harry, Dora and Fleur chorused, exchanging bemused looks.

"Xeno means that he is happy that our daughter is part of such a loving relationship." Pandora clarified with an eyeroll.

"Ah." Harry, Dora and Fleur nodded in unison.

"Daddy, I broke my promise." Luna said soberly. "I had fun with Harry's penis before I turned sixteen. I'm sorry."

"What's this, Xeno?" Pandora asked in surprise. "Did you make our little girl promise to stay away from sex until she was sixteen?"

"Only penises." Xeno defended himself. "You know how teenage boys are, and she's so innocent. I couldn't bear to see her hurt, not after losing you."

"Be that as it may, it isn't your place to decide when or with who she has sex." Pandora scolded and then turned to her daughter. "It's alright, Luna. What you put in your vagina and when you do it is your own business."

"And my bum?" Luna asked just to make sure.

"All your orifices." Pandora nodded firmly.

"Thanks, Mum."

 _What is up with this conversation?_ The other three people in the room wondered.

"It was wonderful to see you again, Luna, but we have to go now." Pandora said regretfully. "Don't call us too often, the dead should stay dead."

"Wait!" Luna exclaimed. "Just one more thing. Are there any crumple-horned snorkacks in the afterlife?"

Xeno adopted a thoughtful look and then beamed at his daughter. "I can't remember, so there must be."

"Yes! I knew they were real!" Luna apparently took that as proof.

The deceased Lovegoods faded away after a final goodbye, leaving the behind a contemplative silence.

Harry pondered what had just happened. Those had definitely been the souls of Xeno and Pandora Lovegood, sans their magic, he had been able to 'hear' that, but he didn't buy any of this afterlife tripe. Not the classical definition of it at any rate. His knowledge of the Void contradicted it.

He was starting to develop a theory for the workings of the Resurrection Stone, but further testing was required. Now who to call...?

"Do you want to summon Sirius or your parents?" Dora asked softly.

"That wouldn't help me prove anything." He replied absently, still thinking. "What I need is a recently dead magical I didn't personally know, a recently dead mundane I didn't personally know and then another set of those that have been long dead. And also a recently dead mundane that I _did_ personally know just to round things out."

The metamorphmagus grabbed his face and stared him in the eye. "Harry, I am asking you if you want to talk to your parents and godfather and maybe get some closure, not if you want to use them as test subjects for your experiments."

Harry blinked and then smiled at her. "That's sweet of you, Dora, but unnecessary. I've made peace with death a long time ago."

XXXXX

"Napoleon Bonaparte." Harry said, activating the Resurrection Stone.

As expected, the French conqueror failed to appear.

Harry put a cross next to 'long dead mundane unknown to user' in his notebook. So far, the only thing that the stone had been able to summon was Luna's parents, which were in the category of 'recently dead magicals personally known to user'.

While he had been unable to test for a recently dead mundane personally known to the user, Harry was fairly sure that it would work. The stone seemed to only be capable of summoning those that the user had personally known, which would make sense. The Stone was powerful, but the user still needed at least a faint familiarity with the soul they were summoning for it to work.

Well, that did kind of limit what he could do with it, but it was nothing to scoff at.

XXXXX

 _August 13th, 2017._

Harry steadied himself after being side-along apparated by Dumbledore and looked around. They were on a windswept cliff at the edge of the ocean.

"This is a dead end." Harry sighed.

"I assure you, Harry, that there is a horcurx hidden in a cave at the base of this cliff." Albus said.

"There _was_ a horcrux here." Harry contended. "Slytherin's Locket to be precise. I've already destroyed it."

Albus was taken aback. "When?"

"Oh, years ago."

"What?"

"Yeah, Regulus Black betrayed Voldemort and his elf, Kreacher, brought the horcrux to Grimmauld Place when he died doing so. There it sat for years until Sirius and I visited the place. I studied it for a year, trying to figure out if I could use the Law of Similarity to track down the others, but no luck, so I destroyed it."

"I see." Dumbledore said with a frown. "Why didn't you tell me? I thought we agreed to share information."

"Sucks when things are being kept from you, doesn't it?" Harry grinned at the old man's displeasure. "It wasn't critical information and I didn't really trust you to actually stop hoarding secrets, so I used it as a test. You pass, congratulations."

Albus sighed, but was at least hopeful that the rift of distrust between him and Harry would lessen now. "So, we have managed to destroy four horcruxes now."

"And three more to go. Two, if Voldemort was aware of the one in my head, but I find that unlikely." Harry continued.

"Huflepuff's Cup, Ravenclaw's Diadem and Gryffindor's Sword presumably." Albus mused. "And I have no more leads to follow."

"Lucius Malfoy was entrusted with the Diary and my interrogations are all pointing fingers at Bellatrix as being the most likely to be trusted with another."

Albus's expression faltered slightly at the mention of Harry's prisoners. "Harry, would it not be better to release those men into Amelia Bones' custody? They should be tried and-"

"No." Harry interrupted. "If Voldemort is going to make me fight a war with him, then the least that I'm getting out of it is test subjects for my research."

"Test subjects?" Albus repeated, horrified. "Harry, these are human beings!"

"So? The pork chops you're so fond of eating used to be living pigs."

Albus blinked in surprise at Harry's knowledge of his dietary preferences. "There is a great difference between a pig and a human."

"According to humans." Harry countered, smirking sarcastically. "I'm sure the pigs would disagree."

"Very well, I still stop eating meat if you stop killing people." Albus tried to bargain.

Harry burst out laughing. "Bwahahahaha. Nice try, but no. _I_ still eat meat, not particularly often but I do, so your offer to become vegetarian is a superfluous."

"Then why bring it up?"

"To make a point. You would defend the lives of the worst of humanity while being the indirect cause for the death of who knows how many innocent creatures."

"If you are so concerned with life, then why do you treat it so callously?"

"Who said I'm concerned with it? As for treating it callously...the goal of all life is death, I'm just refusing to give humanity special status."

Albus disagreed, but decided not to pursue the tangent. "You could use your great resources and power to work towards the betterment of the world, rather than adding to its pain."

"I am removing the causes of pain. Is that not bettering the world?"

"You are inflicting pain on those no longer capable of doing harm to others. That does not better the world."

"Hmm." Harry hummed thoughtfully. "Point to you, but I have to admit that I'm not really interested in bettering the world. What I am interested in is expanding my knowledge and having test subjects helps me do that."

"Have you no pity in your heart?"

Harry only chuckled in response to that. "What use would that be? They would have been executed or imprisoned for the rest of their lives with only dementors for company anyway."

"That is no reason to rob them of their dignity."

"And I see no reason to allow them to keep their dignity, they didn't allow their victims any and they certainly won't be needing it anymore."

Albus thought he had finally come to the root of Harry's cruelty. "The path of revenge is a dangerous one, Harry. The horrors done to the unfortunate women we found at Malfoy Manor will not be undone by inflicting other horrors on their tormentors."

"This isn't about revenge, I'm just being practical. Imprisonment and execution are both wasteful. Why shouldn't I make use of them now that their lives are effectively over anyway? And while the damage done to them can't be undone, quite a few of the women were positively gleeful to hear what was in store for the people that raped and tortured them. It was the first time they'd smiled since their rescue."

Albus sighed in defeat, seeing that he was not going to get through to Harry. The way that the younger wizard spoke about the captured prisoners, as if they were not even people, disturbed him greatly. He decided to change the subject.

"How are they doing?"

"As well as can be expected. twelve were snatched off the street and have been returned to their families with their memories wiped. Five had their families murdered when they were taken, two of which decided on a memory wipe and a return to their lives anyway. All fourteen of the ones that chose a memory wipe have had a sizable chunk of money deposited in their bank accounts at Dora's insistence. Four of the fourteen were pregnant and needed abortions. All of them will probably have a subconscious fear of men for the rest of their lives due to lack of psychiatric help, which they were offered but refused in favor of simply forgetting about it all."

"What about the other three?" Albus asked sorrowfully.

"They said that they had nothing to go back to and asked to stay on Spellhaven. Two of them were also pregnant and refused to abort their rapespawn for whatever idiotic reason."

"Children are a gift, no matter where they come from." Albus chided.

"Children are sacks of meat filled with piss and shit, just like the rest of us. Don't try to romanticise it."

"You will understand when you have your own."

"Unlikely, but stranger things have happened. Failing that, I'll pretend to understand to keep my women happy."

XXXXX

 _August 17th._ _Spellhaven._

Harry was feeling frustrated. Dumbledore might be comfortable leaving Voldemort alone for months or even years at a time and only reacting to his actions, but he was not. He wanted to give the Dark Lord no peace to plan, to recruit, to do anything except die.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be an option open to him right now. Neither Etal or his network of avian spies could find any hint of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

That was why Harry was resorting to a rather less precise means of tracking them down.

"Penny, I need you to start following the news from all over Europe, both magical and mundane."

"What, why?" Penny asked in shock.

"Because Voldemort is surrounding himself with killers, rapists and similar types of people. You can't have that many arseholes in one place without appeasing their urges. Sooner or later, people are going to start disappearing. With a little bit of luck, they'll be dumb enough to take their victims from the rough area of their hideout and I'll be able to track them down. What I need you to do is go over all the news for reports of unsolved murders and disappearances and collate the information into something I can use. I know it's a bit of a longshot but-"

"Harry, I don't have the time to do that." Penny interrupted, gesturing somewhat wildly at the stack of reports on her desk. "I'll probably need my own staff of assistants once this mirror business really takes off, nevermind running errands for you on top of it."

Harry frowned. She had a point.

"I don't suppose you know anyone that I could entrust this to? It's important and I can't risk giving the job to someone that would be tempted to slack off."

"I might..." Penny said hesitantly.

Harry raised a questioning eyebrow.

"There's not really much for a person without magic to do on Spellhaven and I think the lack of activity is starting to get to Melissa, Abigail and Caroline, as well as the fact that they're living on your charity. Given what happened to them, the kind of job you're describing might be, ah...therapeutic."

Ah, the three women rescued from Malfoy Manor that had asked to stay. Yes, that might work. While Harry was personally of the opinion that Abigail and Caroline were stupid for choosing to not abort their pregnancies, he was also aware that it didn't necessarily reflect on their ability to be useful in this matter. Plus, it would be personal for them, so they'd be plenty motivated.

"I like it. Go ahead and offer them the job. I can pay for them to have the required languages crammed into their heads and buy them a nice house with access to all the mundane news outlets anywhere on the Azores Archipelago for the purpose since they want to stay in Spellhaven."

As he left Penny's office, Harry's mind was still stuck on tracking people down and recalled a spell of Blood Magic that might come in handy. The Kinfinder was only powerful enough to find the parents or children of the one whose blood was used as a basis for it, but if he didn't already have the men who'd impregnated Abigail and Caroline locked up in Ravenhead by the time the children were born...well, it was worth remembering.

It was a shame that he couldn't use the aborted fetuses of the other four pregnant women rescued from Malfoy Manor. The fact that they were conceived through rape already made the metaphysical link between parent and child tenuous at best, but abortion was an act of such complete and final rejection that it severed it completely.

XXXXX

 _August 20th, 2017. Spellhaven._

"You can come in now." The healer said.

Harry took a deep breath and then entered the room with his girls. _How ridiculous is it that I feel more comfortable hunting Death Eaters than meeting a baby?_

Aurélie was propped up in her bed, looking remarkably fresh for a woman that had just given birth. Then again, magic did allow for quite a bit of cheating in that regard. Healers specialising in child delivery were very good at precision Transfiguration and were able to open up the birth canal in a much smoother and less painful way than the natural one.

It made Harry think of how Dora would give birth. _It would probably be over in ten seconds baby would slide right out._

He watched awkwardly as the girls cooed over the newborn veela, feeling entirely out of place and wishing he could flee to Ravenhead.

Alas, his attempts to impersonate furniture were for naught and he was eventually noticed.

"Would you like to hold her, Harry?" Aurélie asked.

"Sure." _As if I could say no without putting myself in the doghouse with Fleur and Dora, though Luna would understand._

The newborn was deposited into his arms and immediately quieted, looking at him with big, sky-blue eyes. There was already a little silver fuzz on her head.

"She likes you." Luna beamed.

 _Of course she likes me, I'm the strongest source of magic in the room._ Harry knew better than to voice the cynical thought in a room full of sentimental females, but it was the truth. Veela were drawn to powerful magic even before puberty activated their more carnal instincts.

"Must be the scars." He quipped instead.

"Definitely your best feature." Dora said sarcastically before turning to the abed veela with a question. "Did you decide on a name yet?"

"I was thinking Arielle." Aurélie answered the metamorphmagus, but looked towards him expectantly.

 _She's waiting to see if I have any objections._ Harry glimpsed in her thoughts. _More than that, she's subtly offering me a place – maybe not necessarily as a parent, but as something – by giving me a say in the baby's name._ He could either give an opinion to accept or show disinterest to refuse and Aurélie would no doubt react accordingly. She already had three daughters who had nothing to do with their fathers after all, a fourth would be no trouble.

He looked back down at the baby in his arms, who had not stopped flailing her arms, cooing and grinning toothlessly ever since being deposited there.

Such a weak little thing. A frail body, a simple mind, a soul with almost no depth and the barest spark of magic.

Harry assumed that babies made some kind of sense to others, because he was personally mystified by them. Why did people have kids? They were loud, needy, selfish and they shat themselves whenever and wherever the urge struck them. What was the appeal? He didn't understand, procreation just seemed like such a base animal instinct designed to perpetuate one's species and bloodline, neither of which Harry cared about.

In the case of this particular baby, he was not only mystified, but also a touch intimidated, because he was going to have to interact with it. It was very considerate of Aurélie to try giving him an out and he appreciated it, but he also knew that it was a gesture made in vain.

Fleur was determined to be part of her new aunt's life. More importantly, she was determined to make _him_ part of her life.

Luna was simply excited and had already classified the tiny veela as family, regardless of all else. Buddha, Zeus, Odin, the God -Emperor of Mankind and Optimus Prime could descend from the sky to tell her otherwise and she would cheerfully tell them that they were wrong. Knowing Luna, she'd probably win that argument too.

Dora had been initially exasperated by the fact that he'd knocked up Fleur's grandmother, but over the past nine months, that had slowly shifted into interest in the baby. Harry had the disturbing suspicion that she was planning to use the opportunity as practice.

So really, there was no option available but to push forward through the uncharted lands far beyond the comfort zone.

 _I guess I might as well do the same thing as Dora and treat this as practice._ Harry thought in resignation. He knew that his girls would want children one day and he had no real reason to refuse them aside from not personally seeing the appeal.

"Sticking with the same theme you used with you other daughters?" He asked with a smile. "It's a good name."

Aurélie gave him a dazzling smile in return and Harry suddenly felt inappropriately aroused.

The newly named Arielle started fussing at that point and Harry could sense hunger and a desire to return to her mother. He also wondered if his sudden spike of arousal had triggered her feeding instinct. Something to test out in the future.

Feeling curious, he caressed the tiny aura with a feeling of _soon_. Arielle immediately stilled and started grinning at him toothlessly, radiating anticipation with none of the restraint that even young children learned.

Oddly enough, that made Harry feel better about the situation. He still didn't see much point in procreation and babies still didn't seem like something worth getting excited about, but at least this particular baby wasn't so intimidating anymore now that he could understand what she wanted.

XXXXX

 _September 2nd, 2017. Spellhaven._

Ever since finding the mysterious plant pod in the forest, all four of them checked up on it frequently, some more frequently than others.

It had grown considerably over the past two months. When Harry had first seen it, it had been barely larger than a basketball, now it was slightly more than four feet in diameter. The magic in it had also been growing stronger, yet also oddly more diffuse.

Not that you needed to be especially attuned to notice that last bit. The trees around the pod grew tall and strong, magical flowers and weeds were much more common here than in other parts of the island and various fairies were frequently sighted despite their generally shy behavior.

The only thing that puzzled Harry was the lack of any kind of sexual overtone to it all. He had quite deliberately set up the fertility rituals they'd been performing in such a way that the sexual nature of them would leak through.

That could mean one of two things. First, that kind of thing either didn't work on plants or trees purged the overtones, which was the same thing in the end. Second, it was something to do with the pod.

He hoped to have his answer today. There had been a rising sense of imminence about the pod lately and it seemed to be approaching resolution.

He wasn't the only one that was eager for the thing to 'hatch'. Luna had been coming by every day to stare at their 'plant baby', clearly not wanting to miss anything. She had a habit of singing to it as well. Fleur and Dora were less obvious about it, but they were also intrigued, Dora especially thanks to the minor penchant for Herbology that she got from her mother.

Seeing as they visited this place so often, they had turned these outings into picnics. That way they could enjoy themselves while keeping watch over the pod. Even with that though, they had stayed far longer today than they would have normally, but all of them sensed that they shouldn't go yet, that something was about to happen.

I was well into the third hour of their vigil for the day when there was a shift in the pod's magic and its walls began to shiver.

"It's happening!" Luna squealed excitedly, clambering forward so that she was sitting on her knees while staring at the pod with uncommon focus.

The rest of them quickly got on their feet. While none of them expected this to be dangerous, there was little sense in taking chances.

The pod slowly opened in much the same manner as a flower would, eventually revealing a humanoid figure curled into fetal position.

It was definitely female and very...green. The skin was a pale green that nobody could mistake for any human coloration. This was emphasised by the brownish patterns that decorated it, looking almost like tree bark, if less ragged.

The hair was also green, but much brighter, more like the color of the healthiest spring grass. In fact, it even looked like grass rather than hair.

"It's a dryad." Luna said in quiet awe, not moving her stare from the still motionless being. She did get up though.

"But there hasn't been a sighting in over a hundred and fifty years." Dora protested, equally quietly.

That was true. Another exclusively female species, if a species they could be called, dryads were caretakers and some said even personifications of their forest's spirit. It was extremely rare for any human to see them these days.

Not to say that dryads were extinct. It was commonly accepted that the Forbidden Forest boasted having a dryad and there were rumors of another in the depts of Germany's Black Forest and more in other locations, but nobody had seen any of them one in a long time. They tended to shy away from humans these days.

"I think Luna's right." Harry weighed in softly. "A lot of families used to perform fertility rituals and I guess at least some of them must have spawned dryads. It would even explain why they always look like women – that kind of magic leans heavily towards the female. Their numbers must have been dwindling ever since the old ways were abandoned."

"Aren't dryads immortal?" Fleur asked, puzzled.

The newborn dryad seemed to come awake before Harry could reply and slowly got to her feet.

"Oh my." Fleur breathed out in surprise, taking in the sight of her properly now that she was standing.

Harry had to agree with the sentiment. If the dryad was shorter than 7'5'', he would eat his boots. The top of his head didn't quite reach her shoulders.

Her figure was also very full and curvy, with wide hips and large, firm breasts. Breasts whose areolas he noted appeared to be imitating flowers and whose rather attention-grabbing yellow nipples were slowly oozing a thick amber nectar. Harry was reminded of daisies.

The face was beautiful ,feminine and the bark-like 'skin' patterns gave an impression of kindness, but the minute expressions that flitted over it didn't look quite right, as if the underlying musculature was a bit too stiff. The nose was just a bit too sharp, looking almost pointy and she didn't seem to be breathing. The lips could almost pass for human if not for their leafy green color, but they also had a rather leafy texture. The ears were the biggest departure from humanity, looking more like large wooden growths on the side of her head rather than functioning auditory organs.

The eyes were definitely functional however, being pools of softly glowing emerald light with no iris, pupils or sclera.

"She's beautiful." Luna said softly and scampered forward eagerly. "Hello, I'm Luna."

The dryad stared at the petite witch that didn't even reach her breasts. She didn't say a word but the forest around them whispered with a feeling of curiousity.

"Did you guys 'hear' that?" Dora asked quietly.

Harry and Fleur gave nods of confirmation, all three of them looking around warily. They suddenly felt surrounded.

The dryad looked directly at them and the forest whispered of _calm-safety-no threat_.

"She carries the soul of the entire forest." Harry said with interest, looking around and extending his senses as far as he could. "Fascinating. Though that would mean that wildfires or extensive deforestation would kill dryads as surely as destroying their avatar. No wonder they started avoiding humans."

"We have to protect her." Luna declared, giving the plant woman a firm hug.

The forest momentarily whispered of _gratitude-happiness-care of parent_ and then the dryad awkwardly returned the hug.

"I am sensing this right?" Dora asked, squinting at the mismatched pair that was the tiny Luna and the huge dryad. "She thinks of us as her parents?"

"I suppose we _did_ create her." Fleur said.

"And Luna has been insisting that she's out plant baby from the start." Harry added wryly.

The hug went on for a long few seconds before the dryad bent a little lower, presenting one of her leaking yellow nipples to Luna. A tremor of _drink_ went through the forest.

"Luna." Harry warned. "I think you might want to step away now."

"Why?" Luna asked, puzzled. "She doesn't mean us any harm."

That was true. Harry had by now deduced that the dryad wasn't hearing their words so much as understanding the meanings behind them and was answering by projecting meaning from the forest that she was bound to. This form of communication precluded deception, but still, ingesting an unknown substance was generally a bad idea.

The dryad sensed their wariness again and gave them a look that could only be called earnest. The forest murmured assurances of good intent.

Luna naturally took it at face value and licked the nipple.

"Oooh, that's tasty." She shivered, flushing and licking her lips.

"Luna…" Dora groaned in exasperation, stepping forward to get the little witch away from the towering plant woman.

Harry also stepped forward and reached out to squeeze one of the pale green breasts. They were far too firm to be made of flesh and fat, but the amber nectar squirted over his hand as if he'd done it to a pregnant woman. The dryad helpfully gave him access, the forest suffused with anticipation.

Harry carefully sniffed at the sticky stuff. It smelled almost sickly sweet and registered as highly magical to his senses. Seeing as it hadn't done Luna any obvious harm, he tentatively poked the tip of his tongue at it and rolled it around his mouth for a bit.

Almost immediately, his mouth filled with saliva, his blood started rushing south and his muscles hummed with restless energy.

"Fleur, you know that fertility ritual we performed together?" Harry said thoughtfully, staring at the now eager looking dryad.

"How could I forget?" She replied with a grimace. "It was horrible."

"Be that as it may, I think it did actually achieve something."

"Wait….are you telling me that this dryad is part veela?" Dora asked incredulously, still holding on to a squirming Luna.

"Not exactly, but she's definitely no ordinary dryad." Harry answered, deliberately sucking the rest of the nectar off his hand. His face was flushed with arousal now and his groin throbbed with need. "This nectar of hers is a magical aphrodisiac, almost like a liquid form of the Allure mixed with a mild Invigoration Draught. I'm not sensing any compulsion in it, unless you count an extreme desire to fuck something immediately as a compulsion. I'd also bet my pinky toes that she can absorb magic through sexual discharge just like a veela."

"We should feed her then." Luna suggested.

The dryad was also clearly in favor, given the way that the forest near-shivered with _agreement-anticipation-hunger_.

"I was just thinking the same thing." Harry said, staring slightly hypnotized as more streams of the dryad's amber nectar oozed from between her legs. Her green lips made a facsimile of a smile, revealing a mouth as toothless as that of a newborn baby and a tongue that kind of resembled the leaf of an aloe vera plant….if said plant leaves were smoother and slimier. There was a tentacle hentai joke somewhere in there, but Harry was too horny right now to think of it.

"It could be interesting." Fleur said and scooped up some of the nectar for herself. "Mm, this is really good. You need to try this, Nymmie."

Tonks took a good look at the scene in front of her and rolled her eyes in exasperation. Fleur had already started sucking on the yellow nipple and there was stream of arousal trickling down her leg. Luna had taken advantage of her small size to kneel in front of the dryad and lick up the nectar streaming down her thighs. Harry was just watching with a small grin and stroking himself, having already divested himself of clothing.

What a bunch of weirdoes and pervs she'd fallen in with.

"I can't believe the things you three get me into." Dora sighed and stepped forward to wrap her lips around the sole available nipple.

Fleur had been right. It really was good.

XXXXX

 _Later._

Harry groaned with satisfaction as he came into the dryad's tight arse analogue, which was really more like a second vagina analogue since she didn't need a way to dispose waste. It even self-lubricated with more of that aphrodisiac nectar.

He briefly contemplated having another go before shaking his head and deciding to take a break, going to sit on the picnic blanket they'd brought with them.

Luna was also taking a break and immediately nestled herself in his lap.

Fleur and Dora were still busy 'feeding' the dryad, though who was feeding who was debatable. Dora was pinned under the massive plant woman in futa form, being ridden into the ground with a nipple in her mouth keeping her permanently ready for more. Harry had been in her position a while ago and knew that they'd probably keep at it until Dora's hips became too bruised to continue. Harry was glad for his rune-enhanced healing ability or he'd still be black and blue around the waist.

As for Fleur….she had previously been milking the other tit and sucking down the Allure-laden nectar like it was ambrosia while diddling herself, but had now switched to slurping his jizz out of the dryad's pseudo-arse….while diddling herself. Heh, veela, so gloriously nasty.

This had been an interesting experience. The dryad didn't seem to experience pleasure or orgasm, at least not in any way that he could perceive, but the sense of magic around her and the forest itself had thickened noticeably since they'd started boinking her.

"What should we call her?" Luna asked out of the blue.

"You want to name her?" Harry asked back, bemused. He didn't think that the lusty dryad really needed or cared for names.

"Of course." Luna replied as if it was obvious. "I'm not going to let our plant baby go through life nameless."

"Alright." Harry conceded, amused. "Feel free to name her then."

Luna spent a few minutes deep in thought, staring at the still fornicating dryad, veela and metamorphmagus.

"Marae, her name will be Marae." She declared.

"Where'd you get that name?"

"It just came to me and it feels appropriate."

"Alright then, Marae it is." Harry agreed and slipped his hand between her legs. "Now I think that you've had enough of a break."

"Doggystyle please." Luna requested politely and went on all fours." I want to watch."

"Good." Harry grunted as he sheathed himself inside her." Because so do I."

XXXXX

 _Even later_.

Harry groaned as Marae offered him her nipple again.

"Sorry, girl, but we're done." He said apologetically. "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is spongy and bruised."

Marae briefly pouted, the forest around them echoing her disappointment, but she quickly shrugged it off, got back on her feet and skipped merrily after a passing fairy, absurdly light on her feet for something that must have weighed a hundred and fifty kilograms or more.

"Is she gone?" Dora asked tiredly.

"Yeah, she's gone."

"Thank Merlin." The metamorphmagus sighed in relief. "One more orgasm and my cunt might have gone on strike."

"Like your penis?" Luna asked sleepily.

"Yes, like my penis." Dora was too tired to even be snarky about it.

Fleur let out a delicate snore. Harry was reminded of a bear that had gorged on honey for hours, fucked its mate and then decided to sleep it off, albeit less hairy.

XXXXX

 _The next morning._

"Cissy, I need you to spread some news around town." Harry began.

"What kind of news?" The blonde witch asked dutifully.

"There's a horny dryad in the forest now. Her name is Marae and anyone can go visit her if they want to take a tumble in the dirt, but she is not to be harmed under any circumstances. Make it clear that I will not be happy with anyone that tries it."

"How did you get a dryad on the island?" Narcissa asked incredulously.

"The girls and I made her." Harry answered blithely.

"Right…." Narcissa had no idea what to think about this, so she just pushed forward. "What about the werewolves and the sphinxes? The former run through the forest when they're transformed and the latter seem to wander the island at a whim."

"I'll talk to the werewolves myself and I'm sure Luna will want to tackle the sphinxes."

XXXXX

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming." Harry said to the room full of werewolves, about forty in all hailing from all over Europe. Most of them were scarred and looked perpetually tired, a clear sign of struggle against the beast within. He was intending to see what he could do about that eventually, but they were still too uneasy with the new territory for any kind of social experimentation at the moment.

There was a return murmur of greeting, but none of them really raised their voice.

"Well, I'll get right to the point. The forest has acquired a new resident that you'll need to be aware of during your monthly furry party. She's a dryad and may or may not show herself to you while you're running about in werewolf form. If she _does_ show herself to you, there is a high probability that she will attempt to entice you into mating with her. Feel free to do so if you want, I would encourage it even."

"You want us to _mate_ with the dryad while we're transformed?" One of them asked incredulously.

"Or when you aren't." Harry nodded. "Nothing is stopping you from seeking her out while every other day of the month after all. The reason for this is that she draws strength from sex and will in turn make the forest stronger. And don't worry about her not being in the mood, if that happens then you simply won't find her. However, under no circumstances are you to do her any harm. That would….displease me."

The gathered werewolves momentarily tensed and hunched down slightly, much like a subordinate wolf would when faced with the pack alpha's warning growl, but it passed quickly as their humanity overrode the beast within.

XXXXX

While Harry was talking to the werewolves, Luna had gone to talk to the sphinxes.

After careful consideration, Harry had brought two dozen of them to Spellhaven, three males and twenty-one females. They separated into three distinct 'prides' and claimed territories around the village. The territories actually encircled the entire village, which made people nervous as they saw the sphinxes prowling through them, but the fact that they clearly obeyed Harry kept things calm for the most part. Few were brave enough to actually go near the spots where they made their dens though.

Luna was one of these people. She liked the sphinxes, they were interesting to talk to and didn't really understand why the people of Spellhaven were so scared of them. Just because they were highly magic resistant and strong enough to knock a man's head off in one blow didn't mean they would. They were here to protect the island, not hurt the people living on it. Oh well, they were still fairly new. She was sure that people would get used to them soon enough.

"Greetings, Spellweaver." The sphinx that spoke for the particular pride that she was visiting right now said.

"Hello, Kitty." Luna said back cheerfully. If they were going to give her nicknames, then so was she.

"Our battle of wits was not to be until the next day. Did you wish to have it today, or are you here for another reason?" The sphinx dubbed Kitty asked with a smile.

Luna frequently challenged the sphinxes to contests of riddles. It was lots of fun.

"Another reason." She answered. "There's a dryad in the living in the forest now. Her name is Marae and she likes to have sex. Harry says that you can boink her if you want, but he's very protective of her, so make sure you don't play too rough."

Kitty nodded in understanding. "I will let the others know. The males may be interested at least."

"Great!" Luna beamed and gave the big human/lion hybrid a hug. "I'll be back tomorrow with more riddles."

"I look forward to it." Kitty said, smiling to herself as the small witch skipped away.

XXXXX

With timing that was almost too convenient for words, the end of the summer holidays and the beginning of the school year also marked the start of a holding pattern in the conflict between Harry, Voldemort and the various players who had stakes in it.

Dumbledore barely gave it any thought as he let himself be carried by the tide of events into another school year. To him, it was practically expected that nothing would happen for at least a few months after September rolled around.

Harry and Voldemort were both far less sanguine about the matter.

Harry wanted to capitalize on his initiative. He wanted to raid more safehouses, take more prisoners, find more horcruxes, anything except wait and allow his enemy time to recover. With no information though, that was what he was forced to do.

Voldemort too, was unhappy. He had been forced to hide in Russia's vast territories out of fear of what a boy of seventeen would do if he found him. He wanted to return to Britain as a conqueror, prove his power, sow terror and discord and once again show why he was to be feared. But with his support base largely killed, weak from a decade and a half of imprisonment or enduring Potter's hospitality, he was also forced to simmer.

With nothing else to do, he focused heavily on recruitment. The giants were nearly extinct, but they were always easily seduced with the promise of revenge against wizards and a good fight. Fenrir Greyback may have vanished, something that Voldemort correctly guessed was yet again the doing of his nemesis, but there were still werewolves of like mind out there. The dementors would surely flock back to his banner, but at the moment it would be foolish to go to Britain and treat with them.

Above all though, he needed more witches and wizards. In this, his followers proved to be unusually competent and his ranks steadily began to swell.

Unknown to Voldemort, the unexpectedly successful recruitment campaign had little to do with the competence of his minions. In truth, it was a vampire's machinations that were to thank for that.

Bjomolf had been around for far longer than the current magical society and had kept a careful eye on the situation as it developed over the course of centuries. In this time, he had amassed a vast hoard of information on just about everyone. Most of this information went unused, but now he used it to carefully pull strings and funnel support towards Voldemort.

Wizards and witches of shaky moral fiber that were easily seduced by promises of power, gold and glory found themselves encountering Death Eater recruiters, unfriendly eyes were directed elsewhere and reports of any indiscretions committed by antsy Death Eaters were smothered so as to not catch Harry Potter's attention.

On the other end of the spectrum, Harry was considerably more busy than his destined foe.

The governance of Spellhaven settled down once it was no longer so very new, but that was often his least demanding duty. Narcissa could be trusted to handle most of it without his input and the blonde witch rather enjoyed the power and prestige this afforded her.

Harry also kept an eye on several other developments around his island.

Much as he had expected, Marae happily rutted with anyone and everyone that she could. Men, women, werewolves, sphinxes, she would fuck them all. Barely a day went by where she wasn't boffing someone. Consequently, the forest exploded with growth, driven by the power the dryad absorbed from these couplings. Within a month, the vegetation was so thick in the deeper parts of it that one would be forgiven for thinking that they had somehow wandered into the Amazon rainforest. Many species of magical plants also began to thrive in this environment and caused Spellhaven to become a place of interest for the more adventurous herbologists of the world.

Interestingly enough, Marae also seemed inclined to take suggestions on where to direct growth. If left to her own devices, she would make things grow indiscriminately, but Harry had told her to keep the growth lighter around the village and she did so without complaint, the forest whispering of a child following the orders of a beloved parent.

On an amusing side note, Marae's nectar also became a rather highly sought-after commodity.

Harry had asked her to milk herself and she did so, happily filling up the containers he provided. Some experimentation revealed that it functioned as a rather effective aphrodisiac, cure for impotence and bizarrely enough, a remedy for the common cold.

While this had its uses for various fun activities on Spellhaven(the veela were especially happy to have it), Harry's mind turned to how it could be used to make a profit. Upon discovering the sadly underwhelming demand for such things in most of the magical world, he eventually began selling it for extortionist prices in the mundane black market, much to the consternation of authorities and criminals alike, neither of which could chemically analyse what made the stuff effective, nor catch the mystery supplier that was, in a very literal way, supernaturally good at avoiding attention.

Another thing that he looked in on from time to time was the veela. Harry got suspicious as Aurélie continued to bring more of them over to the château. None of them were quite as pleasant as the three masseuses, but they all had some skill or other to show off and it always ended with great sex where they were all too submissive to be for real.

The pattern took months to really become obvious, it actually started with that massage parlor that he had been so pleasantly bribed into sponsoring. Barely a day passed since its opening before it became known as a place of, heh, 'happy endings'. This was generally far better received by the men of the island than the women and caused no small amount of jealousy among the non-veela females. It eventually settled into a sort of grumbling acceptance when it became clear that he wasn't going to tell the veela to tone it down.

That implicit support made the veela bolder. Over time they stopped mimicking human courtship rituals and simply started inviting people over for sex, sometimes even couples or entire groups. After a few months it was no longer unusual for find a whole flock of veela prowling Spellhaven in search of people to fuck and it was rare for a day to pass by that they didn't have an open-ended orgy going on at their commune. They even had a massive room set aside specifically for orgies.

The fiction of marriage had long since been dispensed with at that point, with 'husbands' becoming something of a shared commodity, not that they really complained. there was some grumbling from the human population about how this kind of behavior cheapened the bonds of marriage as a whole, but it was, somewhat forcefully, pointed out to them that what other people did with their lives was none of their concern.

Harry had even managed to disperse the tension between himself and Fleur's family…..by fucking her mother. Veela were weird like that, but he wasn't complaining. It certainly beat talking.

Harry and the girls frequently participated in the veela's shenanigans, but they never Joined with any of them, reserving that privilege only for those they were in a true relationship with. Even Fleur no longer Joined with her fellow veela now that she could control it. Oddly enough, although it had been a source of tension between him and Fleur's family at first, with Fleur being a clearly equal and valued part of the foursome rather than a subjected concubine or something of the like, the veela seemed to think it sort of romantic. Their immunity to the veela brand of sexual manipulation also reinforced their position and kept the silver-haired temptresses from cooking up any schemes of becoming the power behind the throne, so to speak.

When Harry finally noticed the steadily changing pattern of behavior in the veela and called Aurélie over for a talk, they had largely cast off the trappings of humanity and he quickly deduced that the elder veela had been bringing girls over as a sort of benefits package. The two of them talked it over and Harry agreed to let them do as they pleased, but only as long as the veela didn't go back to their old ways of keeping addled harems for each of them.

Aurélie had no problem with that condition, as their own culture had evolved since those days. They were much happier living together in a commune and encouraging their human lovers to form families with other humans. That would keep both their populations sustained with the only downside being any potential jealousy from women – or the occasional man – unwilling to join in on the fun. That issue would simply have to be dealt with on a case by case basis.

The pact was sealed with a good fucking, as dictated by veela custom. Harry strongly suspected that Aurélie had made that one up on the spot.

And on the topic of Aurélie was also the daughter he'd given her.

Harry would be lying if he said that he was comfortable around little Arielle, but he did manage to painfully and awkwardly get used to her. Sort of. He no longer had to employ Occlumency to keep from fidgeting when he needed to interact with the baby veela at least. He would never be capable of acting like a father to her, but he might manage to pull off a brooding uncle that was nicer than he acted.

Fleur, Luna and Dora were clearly and obviously using the situation to torment him, the evil bitches. That it had the side benefit of desensitizing him to the worst effects of babies before they eventually demanded their own was purely incidental.

The business side of things was less confusing to Harry.

Bryanna and Tiana's clothing business had been moved to Spellhaven for their safety and continued to do well enough, but the market outside of Britain was a good deal more competitive so penetration there went slowly, if steadily. The twins' joke shop remained in Britain but his money allowed them to open a new branch on Spellhaven, and another in France.

But the greater bulk of his business was in the communication mirror venture and the related one of television mirrors. The former had already gathered quite a bit of momentum by the time the second was put forward and the success was more than even Harry had expected.

Fleur and Luna pitched in here just as they said they would, allowing the sudden avalanche of interest to be handled with something resembling order. They retained executive positions once things settled down, with Harry being all too happy that he was able to delegate to someone both trustworthy and competent.

With the mundane world as an example, it was easy to exploit the virgin market for all it was worth. News, sports broadcasts, livestreaming of band performances…..there was no shortage of opportunity and everyone that had any inkling of how big this would get wanted in at the ground level. It got even better when Septima and her people deconstructed and repurposed the recording crystals used in omniculars so that proper movies could be made instead of just streaming theater performances. Harry had no idea why nobody had done that before, but he wasn't going to look this particular gift horse in the mouth.

Since there was really no such thing as a magical movie actor at that point, those crystals only got used to record mundane TV shows or movies for the moment, which were then shown on a schedule. This upset more traditionalist magicals, but Harry paid them little mind.

With no pesky laws preventing a single person from having a monopoly over the budding industry, the Houses of Potter and Black rapidly became the richest magical families in the world, which also inevitably gave them a great deal of influence. Anyone that wanted to use Potter telemirrors would have to pay him a fee for the privilege. The fact that he was also profiting from looting quite a few of the old family manors in Britain due to his agreement with Fudge certainly helped with this. He couldn't get at their Gringotts vaults, but there was plenty of money in property as well.

This kind of overwhelming success had a few unexpected knock-on effects.

The first was that production lagged behind demand by a considerable margin. The people he had employed to actually make the enchanted mirrors simply could not keep up. This created a sudden large demand for skilled enchanters and arithmancers, especially ones that were familiar with the mundane world.

The second was that news outlets such as the _Daily Prophet_ suddenly felt threatened by the arrival of this new type of media. That was a minor thing as they couldn't really cite any laws that he was breaking, nor were such businesses anywhere near powerful enough to do more than grumble ineffectually.

The third was that the British Wizengamot came to be rather afraid of him as a whole, though there were a few outliers with more spine that refused to be intimidated such as Amelia Bones and Augusta Longbottom. Some saw his ever increasing wealth and began sucking up even more than usual, the rest saw his decimation of the hardline pureblood families and how the ministry backed his profiteering from their downfall and decided to play it safe by simply nodding their heads in agreement whenever he spoke. Harry didn't actually attend Wizengamot meetings often, for which much of it was silently grateful, but when he did he generally got his way.

The fourth and the one that caught Harry the most off guard by far was that Spellhaven ended up becoming something of a midway point between Europe and the Americas.

The magical side of the two continents had a long history of politely hostile relations, egged on in large part by the goblins and their legendary ability to hold grudges. The cantankerous pointy-eared midgets deliberately obstructed any kind of trade between the two by making currency exchange needlessly difficult. It took an especially determined American to jump through the hoops required to get his hands on any galleons. It was somewhat easier the other way around, but still pointlessly difficult.

With Harry not really caring what kind of money he was paid in, Spellhaven became an excellent place to avoid goblin bullshit, aided by the ambiguous legal status of the island. That it sat smack dab in the middle of the Atlantic made people think it was his intention all along.

The thought hadn't even crossed his mind, but he took credit for it anyway. The goblins were furious, but dared not get too shirty with their wealthiest client.

This situation gave Spellhaven a level of influence completely disproportionate to its size and youth and attracted more people than Harry had expected. Some came in the hopes of profiting from the island's unexpected prosperity, others were drawn by the somewhat crazy rumors circulating through the world and then of course were more veela, who came because they were eager to leave behind the charade of humanity they were forced to maintain in lands ruled by fearful and unimaginative bureaucrats.

Luckily they had erred on the side of caution when setting aside land for habitation and still had room to expand, but if it kept up for too long they'd have to see about adding more land to the coastlines. Harry refused to infringe on the forest, which would have been a much easier alternative. Granted, he _could_ ask Marae to actually move the treeline further inland, but the forest unfortunately did _not_ have much in the way of extra space and there was only so much that it could be compressed. It would be a difficult task with relatively small returns.

Once again unknown to everyone, Bjomolf and his fellow master vampires pulled strings in the background to aid Harry's endeavours where they could. They kept their machinations too subtle to really be noticed unless one knew it was happening, but Harry had more success and encountered fewer problems than he might have otherwise.

In the meanwhile, Dora busied herself with other things. She started training up a fighting force to counter Voldemort's Death Eaters, knowing that they wouldn't always be able to rely on the DMLE or Dumbledore to back them up.

In hindsight unsurprisingly, many of the first volunteers were the more combative types among the werewolves and veela.

The former had decided that they liked their new home and wanted to protect it. Their werewolf instinct to follow a powerful alpha also helped push them in this direction. Harry and Dora might not be werewolves themselves, but they fit the archetype of a strong alpha with his mate closely enough that their instincts accepted it.

The motivations of the veela were only slightly less straightforward. They were after greater favor from the lord of their new home in the hopes of advancing Aurélie's plan and of course the sex.

Not all of those that had volunteered for training actually wanted to fight Voldemort and breathed sighs of relief when they learned that it wasn't a condition for receiving training, which many were eager to take part in even if it was only as a 'just in case' measure.

Both Harry and Dora were a bit disappointed by the small number of people actually willing to go on the offensive, but they didn't say anything about it. Instead, they simply drilled those few extra hard to make them as useful as possible. Demanding that people throw themselves into combat against a Dark Lord would only harm their efforts.

The only solid action against Voldemort that Harry was able to take was to use his newly acquired international influence to put out a reward for information that would lead to Death Eaters or Voldemort himself. He didn't want to put out bounties for actually killing Death Eaters, because he still needed information from them.

Still, despite the thousand galleon reward or equivalent amount of money for reliable information, he did not catch any Death Eaters. Plenty of false alarms and dead ends, but nothing solid.

The months trickled past in this manner.

Dumbledore oversaw his school, pondered the future and sucked on lemon drops.

Voldemort gathered followers so that his reign of terror might be properly restarted.

With all his attempts at tracking his foe coming up with nothing, Harry was left with nothing to do but expand his power base and prepare for the inevitable conflict.

When a letter from Adrastia Zabini arrived on one fine April day, asking if she could come visit, Harry knew that things were heating up again.

XXXXX

 **For those of you who know where the name Marae comes from….you are all filthy perverts. I like you.**


	43. Chapter 43

**Right, so this chapter ended up being more set up than I anticipated. A lot more was supposed to happen in it, but things got stretched out. On the bright side, that does mean that I have less thinking to do when planning the next one.**

 **Many thanks are given to Joe Lawyer for pointing out stuff I missed or could improve.**

XXXXX

 _April 3rd, 2018. Spellhaven._

Adrastia discarded the length of rope in the convenient bin labeled 'used portkeys' and looked around.

It was a pleasant enough room, she supposed. Tastefully furnished, comfortable and pleasantly lit by softly glowing magelights. The only fly in the ointment was the lack of windows and the runic array hidden under the carpet that thrummed with potential against her senses.

 _A remote activated runic stun trap under the figurative doormat? How paranoid._ Adrastia smiled to herself in amusement and wondered what other surprises this room held that she couldn't sense.

"Please enter your name into the Book of Arrivals." A cool female voice directed. "If you are expected, the portal to Spellhaven proper will open for you. Be advised that all those present must sign their names or the portal will remain closed. Touch the communication mirror if you are unexpected or if you experience any difficulty."

Adrastia's amused smile widened as she signed her name. For one less perceptive than her, this would all seem entirely above board, the dagger hidden behind politeness and procedure.

The ink sank into the pages and a spell activated off to the side. "The portal is now open, you may proceed."

The stretch of wall that the portal magic was bound to was clearly marked, even if the magic itself would be undetectable to most people. Adrastia sensed it easily of course and walked through confidently, not even breaking stride as she found herself in a longish corridor.

As she walked, she took note of the metal studs decorating the walls, floor and ceiling. They looked like mere decorations designed to break up the monotomy of this otherwise barren corridor, but she could feel a buzz of magic from them. _An electrical trap this time, to send bolts of lightning arcing from one stud to another? Interesting choice, if slightly unpredictable._

The corridor terminated in a pair of thick oaken doors, reinforced with criss-crossing, enchanted bands of wrought iron. Admittedly, effort had been taken to make it look artistic and the doors were currently open, but it was fairly clear that they were meant to withstand a beating.

Adrastia nearly started grinning when she saw a thick slab of granite sitting just outside of the door. It was carved with runes that her cursory examination told her were for extreme durability and spell resistance and had small 'decorative' openings carved through it. Once again, care had been taken to make it look nice, but it still bore an unmistakable resemblance to a castle's battlements, further reinforced by the fact that it sat about two meters or so above the door, forcing potential attackers to climb a small stairway if they wished to move forward.

Harry had fortified the front entrance as if he expected a horde of bloodthirsty berserkers to come through one day. It made her wonder what defenses he had placed elsewhere.

She supposed that the final defense must be the easily destructible wooden stairway that led to the reception area. One blasting curse would force invaders to waste time climbing up, becoming easy targets for the defenders.

Up those stairs was the reception area at long last, though it was really more of a mix between an office and a recreation room. There were several work desks on one side and things like a pool and ping pong table on the other. A curious design, mixing business with pleasure, although she supposed the people working here didn't have too much to do during the course of an average day, so it made some kind of sense.

And speaking of people working here, there were currently only three of them. One older, grizzled-looking man that had the contained wildness of a werewolf about him and two younger men that were currently engaged in a furious game of ping pong.

One of the two younger ones had his back to her, which won him the game as the other forgot about it when he caught sight of her.

He was a passably handsome youth in his early twenties with skin as dark as hers. Adrastia favored him with a sultry look and smiled when he visibly flushed.

"Adrastia Zabini?" The werewolf questioned, eyes briefly dipping towards her cleavage.

Adrastia didn't mind. It was what why she always wore clothes that displayed her beautiful body, to be gazed at and desired and longed for.

"That is my name." She purred, sending tendrils of magic out to caress the auras of all three men.

A familiar thrill went through her as the werewolf's eyes darkened and possessive jealousy started poisoning the air in the room.

"Harry will be expecting me." She continued in the same sultry purr.

Jealousy turned to sullen defeat in the two younger men and resigned acceptance in the werewolf at her words. How amusing, they thought that she was here to pay a visit to Harry's bed and had immediately abandoned all hope of wooing her for themselves. This trick usually made people resent the one she mentioned, but it would seem that Harry made them feel so inadequate that they took losing to him as a given.

"I can escort you to him." The dark-skinned young man suddenly offered, his words coming out in a rush. He had an American accent, she noticed.

 _Ah, perhaps there is still a flicker of hope in him..._

"Please." She said with a smouldering look, pretending not to see his surprise or hear the other youth cursing softly to himself, no doubt at being beaten to the punch.

They walked in silence for a while, the young man, still just a boy really, visibly too nervous to speak first and Adrastia finding her thoughts drifting. The quiet and the complexion of her escort reminded her of her own sullen offspring, Blaise. He would be finished with his Hogwarts education in a mere few months and be deemed fully qualified wizard, or at least what passed for it these days.

Hopefully he would have the wits to make his own way in the world rather than attempting to reconnect with her. He should know better after being left with caretakers for more or less his entire life, but you could never tell with teenagers.

They passed silently through another reinforced door and into the open. Adrastia took a deep breath of the cool ocean breeze, shaking off thoughts of her unwanted progeny. Being subtropical and oceanic, she knew that the climate here would always be very mild with little to nothing in the way of extremes. Although she generally preferred warmer climes, there was no denying that it was a very pleasant spring day.

"So, do I get to know the name of my companion." She asked her boyish companion with a teasing lilt.

His started at the sudden address and his already dark skin darkened further as the blood rushed to his cheeks. "It's Kevin." He squeaked.

"And how did a handsome wizard like you end up in a place like this?" She purred, deliberately using the worn out pick-up line.

He gaped at her in shock for a moment and then a silly smile stretched across his face. These young ones were so easy. "I just saw heard that there were job openings here and I gave it a try. It can be hard to find work back home sometimes, you know?"

Adrastia hummed in acknowledgement, taking note of the ravens sitting on the rocks and sparse trees dotting this area. Of course there would be ravens in a place where Harry lived, they likely reported to him. "And how have you liked it so far?"

"Can't complain." He shrugged. "I didn't see myself working what was basically a reception desk, but it's an easy job and I get extra hazard pay with the promise of a combat multiplier if anyone actually attacks. Personally I think that Potter's just being paranoid, but I suppose I can't blame him with that British Dark Lord of his coming back from the dead."

 _That was easy._ Adrastia thought to herself in amusement. Granted, it wasn't any kind of terrible deep secret, but the information was just spilling out of this one.

"Paranoid you say? Does that mean that even people who live here have to go through what I went through every time they leave the island for whatever reason?" She asked.

"Not exactly. They have another arrival point closer to the village, but they have to sign the Book of Departures before they leave and get issued a specially made two-way portkey. There's another Book of Arrivals there that's keyed only to the Book of Departures and they get detained if something doesn't match." He explained.

"Would it not simply be a matter of signing a false name then?"

Kevin shook his head. "No. I don't know how, but the Book of Arrivals can tell if someone signs a name that isn't theirs. There's also another arrival area that's for cargo only, but I don't know much about that."

"Hmm, interesting. Harry certainly is being cautious." Although Adrastia could already see a flaw in his security measures. If his enemies came here ahead of time under the guise of immigration – or otherwise subverted some of the residents – then all these precautions could be bypassed. She wondered if he had something else in place to take care of that.

XXXXX

 _Meanwhile, in Ravenhead..._

In the middle of a room suspiciously similar to the audience chamber of Orthanc was a dais that was suspiciously similar to the one on which Saruman's Palantír sat. As it happened, there was a black orb bearing a suspicious similarity to a Palantír sitting on _this_ dais as well.

All of this suspicious similarity was largely the result of Harry thinking that Orthanc's design was cool and Saruman being his favorite Lord of the Rings character, but it did have some practical purpose as well.

His Palantíri were not _quite_ the same in function as the ones in Middle Earth, even if they looked identical.

It had taken him months to get the spellwork just right. In fact, the project had consumed so much of his attention that the girls had needed to drag him off to bed more than once. Even Narcissa and Penny had needed to constantly remind him to not neglect his other obligations in favor of 'whatever else he was doing'.

Eventually, Harry became so fed up with the lack of hours in a day that he had decided to get himself a belated Christmas present back in late January by stealing a Time Turner from the Department of Mysteries. The security measures were still pathetic, so it was easy to do.

Fleur and Dora had not been amused by the fact that he was willing to risk a temporal paradox just to get more time to play with his projects, but eventually succumbed to the temptation of using it themselves. Luna was happy to point out their hypocrisy, much to Harry's amusement.

The last of the kinks had just been worked out a little over a week ago and Harry was feeling pretty damn proud of his achievement.

The one here in Ravenhead was the master stone and was in essence a psychic amplifier that allowed him to project his mind some distance away – essentially a form of brute force scrying. It put quite a bit of strain on the user to do it, but Harry was slowly getting used to it. However, even with a will and focus as strong as his, he could only reach out twenty or so kilometers. Impressive if he did say so himself, but not especially useful.

That was where the slave stones came in. They acted as relay beacons, creating secondary loci from which he could project his mind without ever leaving Ravenhead. The Protean Charm remained one of the more useful things he had ever learned.

For now, there were only two Palantirí in exitence, one master and one slave. The slave stone sat above the mantel of the fireplace in their château, disguised as nothing more than a decorative obsidian sphere. In truth, without the master stone, that was pretty much what the slave stones were. There would be no Sauron-esque fuck ups with _his_ stuff!

Harry eventually planned to distribute more slave stones to areas of interest around the world, all the better to spy on things directly rather than having to rely on agents, either human or animal.

Of course, his new toys were difficult to create and he was still testing what he could do with them, but he had high hopes.

So far he had already learned to do quite a few useful things with it. Possessing animals through them was easy. Legilimency was much harder since he was so far away and lacking the close link that eye contact provided – he could only get glimpses of surface thoughts, but that was still very useful. Invading dreams was slightly easier, but he had to be careful if he wanted to avoid detection.

A rather horrible violation of privacy all told, but it wasn't as if he was doing this for giggles. Infiltrators were by far the most dangerous threat and he needed to at least try to counter it.

Besides, he relied quite heavily on the other two methods of spying to even know whose privacy to violate.

The second method was an island-sized version of the Marauder's Map that took up an entire wall of this very room and the third was a Taboo that would turn a person's indicator on the Map a bright, blinking red should they speak certain words.

Actually figuring which words to place under Taboo had been surprisingly hard. The incantations for the Unforgivables, especially the Imperius, were obvious choices, but what else? Things like 'Voldemort', 'Dark Lord' and 'treason' would be far too general and likely only serve to swamp him with false alarms, nor was he under any illusion that Voldemort's people were the only spies he needed to worry about and that wasn't even mentioning that many people here didn't speak English as their first language.

In the end, he had to content himself with putting the phrases of 'kill Potter' and 'spy on Potter' under Taboo. Far from perfect, especially as a smart spy or assassin didn't speak their mission out loud, but there was little else he could do about it. So far, there had been two false alarms and no real ones.

He was currently using the Palantír for the purposes of remote possessing one of the numerous ravens that called Spellhaven home and spying on the newly arrived Adrastia through it. She appeared to be well on the way to wrapping the horny young idiot with her around her little finger. _Better get there before the clueless bastard decides that he wants to leave with her._

He might have to reconsider having that one work there if Adrastia was finding it so easy to wrap him around her little finger even with all the uninhibited horny veela present on the island.

XXXXX

"How do you know Potter, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, we go back quite a ways. I dated his godfather briefly and attempted to seduce him. It still burns my pride that I failed."

"You mean he turned _you_ down?" Kevin asked incredulously and then flushed in embarassment.

Adrastia laughed the rich laugh that she knew men found irresitible, the sound resonating with the lust this boy felt for her. "Indeed he did. I've never met a fourteen-year-old with so much self-control before."

By the look on his face, she knew that Kevin had just recalled that Harry was actually a number of years younger than him and not even legal by American reckoning.

"Isn't that a bit young?" He asked hesitantly, clearly not wanting to offend.

"I like them young." She purred and reached over to give his butt a pinch, just to make it clear that she wasn't necessarily talking about Harry anymore.

He did an amusing little yelp and jump and then grinned at her like smitten teenager, any silly concerns about paedophilia forgotten.

"So, um, would you maybe like to get something to eat later?" Kevin asked with his best attempt at suave confidence. "I could show you around."

Normally she wouldn't bother with someone like this, but he was a good source of general information for now.

"Perhaps." She replied lightly and then her attention was caught by the sight of someone approaching at speed on a flying carpet. "Ah, I do believe that Harry is coming."

Kevin said nothing, but Adrastia could almost taste the disappointment coming from him. Such a little boy, upset at having her attention stolen away.

Harry arrived moments after, looking rather impressive as slowed to a halt in front of them, hands clasped at his back and the wind briefly buffeting his hair. It made her wonder if he'd been coached on how to project the image of an all-powerful lord or uncrowned king surveying his lands or if it came to him naturally. Either way, Adrastia was personally more impressed by his ability to direct the flying carpet while standing on it. Usually it required one to sit at the front of the carpet and use the tassels in a manner similar to an airplane yoke. Being able to guide it with focused will alone was an advanced usage that normally required many years of familiarity. And speaking of the carpet, it was of excellent quality. She was no expert on them, but she knew a masterwork when she saw one.

"Adrastia." He greeted with a tight, almost unfriendly, smile.

"Hello, Harry." She purred, devouring his form with her eyes. He was dressed in casual but clearly quality mundane clothes that showed a delicious physique, although the new scars on his face marred his good looks somewhat. He was also stronger and harder than the last time they'd met. "New toy?"

"Relatively new." He answered and gave her a head-to-toe examination as if he was seeing through her. Her nipples hardened under his regard. She wanted to sit on his face while he gave her that look. "New look?"

She was wearing a leather bustier and pants combination that clung to her like a second skin and emphasised her assets wonderfully. A pair of dragon hide boots with a low heel and a soft velvet cloak of very dark blue pinned to the shoulder straps of the bustier completed the look.

"Relatively new." She echoed with a smirk.

"It looks familiar."

"It should, I had it custom made back at your store back in Britain." She sniffed and then smiled at him, running her hands over her body invitingly. "You like?"

"Hmph, I thought I recognised Bryanna's design. Get on the carpet."

Adrastia took that as a yes.

"Goodbye, Kevin. It was fun knowing you." She said airily as she stepped on the carpet.

"Bye..." He replied, even adding a forlorn little wave to go along with his look. Silly boy.

The flying carpet rose into the sky, sending her cloak flapping. Harry was apparently one of those people that preferred to keep the built in charms to block the wind deactivated. She personally felt that it was a bit cold for that, but she wasn't going to say anything.

"Been playing games with my people, Adrastia?" Harry asked once they reached a good altitude, sitting side by side.

"Just a little." She chuckled. "Which reminds me, Kevin promised me a tour of the island and that likely isn't in the cards anymore. Would you be so kind as to do it in his place?"

"Kevin promised you a tour of the island because all he could think of was having your lips wrapped around his cock." Harry stated flatly.

"Be that as it may, a promise is a promise and I really would like a tour."

"We don't always get what we want, not even pretty little tarts like you."

"Pleeeease?" She asked teasingly, fluttering her eyelashes. "We're already in the air, so you just need to point things out to me."

"Why are you here, Adrastia?"

"I will be glad to tell you...after the tour."

"Did Bjomolf send you to spy on me?"

"If you really don't want to give me a tour, then I would be willing to take a romp with you as a substitute. I've never done it on a flying carpet, believe it or not. It has a certain scandalous appeal."

"No chance. I already ruined one flying carpet that way. Turns out that magic rich fluids screw up the enchantments if they soak into the fabric."

Adrastia burst into delighted laughter. She hadn't known that. "My dear Harry, it truly is a shame that you got away from me. We could have had such fun together."

"Would that be before or after I 'accidentally' drank sulfuric acid or something?"

"Before, naturally. Why, I might have even decided that you were worth keeping." She teased.

"Hmph, I wonder if maybe I should push you off this carpet right now, or maybe keep you locked up as my personal fuckpet. It has a certain scandalous appeal." He mocked.

"Oh, Harry." She panted breathily, leaning over to nibble on his ear and using her aura to push impressions of _flesh-on-flesh/teeth-biting-into-skin/man-sliding-into-woman_. "If you keep saying such wicked things, my underwear is going to experience a bit of a crisis."

Adrastia knew that Harry was being at least partially serious. He truly had seriously considered the merits of carrying out those threats. That was what made it fun to play these games with him. She'd never really had someone so much like her to play with. Most people at this level of power were as old as dirt and about as fun.

Harry shook his head to get his ear away from her teeth and looked at her with dark emerald eyes.

Adrastia could see the calculation in those eyes, the deliberation. He was considering if he could actually get away with doing it, if his women would object, if it could really be called rape when she was clearly provoking him and otherwise willing to sleep with him, if he even cared about where the blurry line between consensual and forced was in this case.

Her pulse quickened with a mix of genuine fear and exhiliration as the silence stretched on.

Then he turned his head away with a snort. "You're going to try playing with the wrong person one day. It might even be me."

Adrastia exhaled quietly in relief and kept herself from shaking with a force of will. Despite her words, actions and damp underwear, she did not actually want something like that to happen. She valued her freedom and her control too much to ever enjoy having it taken away. She had been helpless once and never wanted to be again.

To make it even more interesting, Harry was most assuredly capable of perceiving at least some of this in her aura, though to what extent she didn't know.

But she still couldn't resist playing games. He was a terribly attractive and dangerous man. She wanted him to look up at her in adoration while she rode him to climax and reached deep into his unguarded soul, but knew that it was extremely unlikely that she would ever get that wish. Playing risky games with his emotions was a different sort of power trip, but still an exciting one.

That was why she turned Harry's head towards her and leaned in.

"Perhaps..." She breathed against his lips. "but at least I won't be bored." Then she took the opportunity to give him a quick peck and backed away with a smirk.

"You're a strange woman, Adrastia." Harry said with a minute scowl on his face. "You backed off from trying to kill Sirius because you didn't want to cross me, yet here you are, baiting me because you're bored?"

Adrastia was well aware of the contradiction. She had spent years carefully not angering anyone that might actually attack her directly, but now she was doing exactly that. Perhaps it was because Harry wasn't cruel by nature, perhaps it was because he was such an interesting blend of ruthless and restrained, perhaps she wanted to see how far he could be pushed.

Perhaps she really was a bit bored with the lack of challenge that her usual playthings gave her.

"Ah, but you are so much more fun than Sirius." She chuckled, letting herself fall back until she was propped up on her elbows and giving Harry a lazy stare. "Now, I am sure that you have already guessed that I came here with information that you will want to know, so unless you are willing to imprison and do naughty things to me until I divulge it to you, you will have to either open your soul to me or give me a tour of your lovely island."

There it was again, that flash of calculation passing through his eyes, wondering if maybe he should do it just to prove a point, to keep himself from being outmaneuvered. The temptation to humiliate her and put an end to these games, to break her and force her into servitude, all of that and more backed by the lust she could feel he had for her.

Adrastia's pulse quickened and muscles tensed again as the seconds ticked by with painful slowness, wondering if she'd gone too far. She was reasonably sure that this level of provocation wouldn't exhaust his patience, but there was always the chance that she had misjudged him. That was what made the game such a rush.

But the fellow monster in human form turned away with a scoff that was probably meant to be derisive, yet sounded merely frustrated to her ears.

"Fine, I'll give you a tour then." He grunted and flew the carpet higher into the air to give them a better overview.

"Wonderful." Adrastia said, referring both to the decision and the excited flush that spread through her body at winning the subtle, dangerous game of dominance. "Please show me your home, Harry."

"Pick a spot and I'll tell you about it." He said grouchily.

Adrastia decided not to try her luck by provoking him any further today. "Hmm, very well."

Sitting up again, she peered down and considered what to ask about first.

The island had an irregular shape, kind of like a circle that had been stretched out in places, with the extinct, moss-covered volcano that had formed it sitting in the rough center. Most of it was overrun by a thick forest that blocked all sight of the ground. Although hard to tell from the air, it looked to be old growth, but she knew that couldn't be true because from what she'd heard before, the island had been fairly sparse on vegetation when people had started settling. Perhaps the work of this dryad that she'd also heard about?

She couldn't see much in the way of animals. Except for the ravens of course, _those_ hung around the town in droves and no doubt did the same in the forest as well. Harry's great host of spies and eavesdroppers. There was also the occasional bird that was more common to the sea, but not many. Most likely too wary of the black-feathered legion to venture near.

The coastline was for the most part rocky, but there was a large lagoon near the village that was fine white sand. It stuck out so much that it had obviously been made with magic, but Adrastia liked it. The pale sand and deep blue ocean gave it the feel of a tropical paradise and she wondered if there were any spells layered over the beach to make it warmer to further reinforce that impression for anyone going there. It was still pretty early in the day, so there weren't many people on the beach, but judging by the fact that some of them were skinny dipping or sunbathing in the nude, it was probably warmer than nature would allow.

The island's only settlement was clearly demarked by a low stone wall, most likely to keep the forest from intruding on it, or perhaps the other way around. Adrastia estimated that there were at least three or so square kilometers reserved for human habitation, though much of it remained unused for now.

It was also immediately visible that this was no mundane settlement. There were no roads or pavement, with only transfigured rock providing hard ground if necessary. That was to be expected when there were no cars and the main means of transportation were either flying carpets or an internal floo network. While this meant that Spellhaven lacked the ordered look of a modern town or city, that wasn't to say that there was no organisation visible. The settlement was clearly divided into districts of a sort.

The residential district was the furthest inward and looked the most disorganised by far. While the land itself did appear to be separated into property lots, it seemed as if people could pick them out at will, giving the whole thing a somewhat haphazard appearance, not to mention that a few of the houses were in clear violation of the laws of physics.

But perhaps the most surprising thing were the two taller buildings that were clearly apartment complexes. Wizards generaly didn't go for those.

What Adrastia assumed were the shopping, work and entertainment districts looked a lot more orderly, as well as a lot smaller due to the buildings being clustered closer together.

"I see the visitor's arrival area over there..." She said musingly, looking at the lone building standing on a barren cliff a short-ish distance away from the village. "...and I assume that château is where you live?"

The question was mostly rhetorical. The château stood on a slight elevation overlooking the rest of the village and was clearly the residence of those in charge. Adrastia suspected the hand of Narcissa Black in the positioning and imagery.

"Yes." Harry replied tersely.

"What about that walled off area?" She asked, pointing at a cluster of rather aesthetically pleasing buildings encircled by a low wall that didn't seem to be quite part of the rest of the residential area yet also not really separate from it.

"That's where the veela live."

"Why the wall though?" She asked curiously. It wasn't tall enough to really keep anyone out.

"Mostly so that nobody can say they wandered in there by accident."

"Ah yes, I did hear that you allow the veela quite a bit of leeway with their behavior." Adrastia said with an amused smile. "There is great deal of talk about that in certain circles of the ICW."

"Is there now?" Harry asked, sounding interested.

"Oh yes." Adrastia nodded, still smiling. "While veela are theoretically afforded equal rights as wizards and witches by the more progressive magical governments in the world, in practice they are also expected to _act_ human rather than veela and to not shake things up. Your decision to not restrict them is considered to be highly controversial."

"We have an agreement. As long as people are aware of the long term effects of veela exposure and they don't use the Allure to ensnare the weak-minded, they can do whatever they want." Harry said with a dismissive shrug.

"I can't imagine everyone being happy with that." Adrastia commented.

"They're not." Harry agreed. "More than one relationship or marriage has already been destroyed over it, but that's not really the fault of the veela."

"No?" Adrastia asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No." Harry insisted firmly. "They're definitely the catalyst a lot of the time, but not the root cause. Sometimes their control of the Allure slips when they're having fun or they proposition people that are already in relationships. Quite often they proposition couples or invite entire groups of people, I've even heard of one incident where they tried to sell orgies as a family activity, although I suppose for them it would be." He chuckled briefly and then frowned. "I get complaints about it all the damn time from jealous spouses, outraged parents or just annoying busybodies that don't know how to keep their noses out of other people's business. So far, every single complaint has been baseless and I refuse to pander to people's insecurity and inflexible relationship ideas just because the veela are bolder and more open with their sexuality than they're comfortable with."

"A strong stance, but it must have cost you the support of the less liberal-minded." Adrastia noted.

"Like I said, quite a few relationships and marriages have been destroyed over it." He shrugged uncaringly. "I tend to take the view that if they couldn't weather a blunt proposition then it wouldn't have worked out anyway. If they were happy with just each other then a simple 'no' would have sufficed."

Adrastia chuckled, having some inkling as to how frustrating it must be for some people to come to Harry with their complaints. They would come to him with outrage and he would demand emotionless reason.

"Out of curiousity, what is the male to female ratio of the population?" She asked.

"About 60-40, perhaps even 70-30." He admitted. "We already get more men coming to the island as it is and some women leave in a jealous huff, especially those from America. I expect that it'll be years before people stop whining about how different things are here."

"I think you might be a bit too optimistic." She said, amused. _I wonder, would this make it easier to employ female spies or male ones? Males wold be less conspicuous, but they may be happy enough to have women to neglect looking at them too closely._

"Hmph." Harry grumbled. "What do you want to know about next?"

Adrastia hummed thoughtfully and looked at her choices. Might as well finish with the residential area since she'd started with the veela...

"I see that you don't allow anyone to build houses even nearly the size of your own." She noted teasingly. Indeed, while all the houses were of good quality, there was an obvious 'middle class' feeling to them. Harry's château was in contrast distinctly aristocratic. Of course, this was also partially due to the fact that the château stood apart and above on a smallish hill while the other houses occupied the meadow below it.

"Narcissa's idea, but I agree with it. The last thing I want is a bunch of pompous rich idiots posturing by building giant manor houses everywhere."

"Yes, that might give people the impression that your word is not absolute."

Harry gave her a look, but didn't disagree.

"And I see also that you've had quite a bit of room set aside for sports, even mundane ones." Adrastia continued. "I see quidditch, football, volleyball, basketball, tennis, quodpot and there was a volleyball court on the beach..."

"Yeah, that was all Dora's idea." Harry said with a frown. "The thought of sports didn't even cross my mind, but she pointed out that not everyone is, and I quote, 'a sports-hating nerd' like me. She went around asking people what they wanted and we built most of those that got enough votes. Not all of those fields get a lot of use, especially the ones meant for mundane sports, but it does give the sheep another thing to distract themselves with."

"Such contempt you show for your subjects, Harry." Adrastia mocked. "What ever would they say if they knew?"

Harry scowled and pursed his lips. "I just find it hard to understand, you know? They have so much power and potential, but they choose to be ordinary. How do you reconcile the power to bend reality to your whim with a day job?"

"Not everyone is meant for greatness and magic alone has never lifted anyone out of mediocrity." Adrastia said with a shrug and looked at him with a half-lidded gaze. "But you do surprise me, Harry. I wouldn't have taken you for someone that would care about what others do with their lives."

"And I don't, not really." He affirmed, still scowling. "I guess it just bothers me that I seem to be the only one that's really interested in actually figuring out magic rather than just using it."

"Well, there are a few wizards and witches here and there that delve into the deeper mysteries, but you are certainly the most...aggressive one that I know of." She teased lightly. "Personally, I blame the general laziness and lack of curiousity about magic our kind exhibits on the absence of adversity. You started young, with no knowledge that there was an already established magical world waiting for you. All you had to go on was your gift and a desire to know more. I don't think I ever told you how much I admire that you haven't lost that drive."

He gave her a suspicious look at the praise, to which she replied with an angelic smile. That only made him more suspicious of course. Smart man.

A long silence stretched out, making Adrastia wonder what that thoughtful look on Harry's face was about. Perhaps he was thinking of a way to introduce some more adversity into the world? That would be just delightful.

"Can we get to the point of your visit now?" He eventually asked.

"Harry, Harry, Harry." She tutted. "You should know that it takes more than that to satisfy me."

"Then ask your questions already." He groused.

"Very well, tell me about the sphinxes then." She could see the lion hybrids either prowling the outskirts or lazing about. Two of them even seemed to be watching a quidditch game that was currently underway.

"They're sphinxes, what's there to tell?" He shrugged.

"Come now, Harry." Adrastia chided. "Not everyone has sphinxes as guards and protectors. They may sometimes agree to guard a certain thing, but never in such numbers. How ever did you manage that?"

"With the friends you keep, I'm surprised you don't already know." He grumbled.

Adrastia briefly frowned in thought before his meaning became clear to her. "Did it have something to do with Bjomolf? He doesn't tell me everything, you know. In fact, I would wager that he considers me little more than a pawn in his deeper schemes."

Harry was visibly surprised by that. "Why do you keep associating with him then?"

"Because it benefits me." She shrugged. "And there is also the ever-present appeal of immortality."

"You want to become a vampire?" He asked, clearly thinking her a fool.

"I do not necessarily _want_ to, but I consider getting old the greater evil."

The speculative look on Harry's face made her wonder if it had been wise to disclose that bit of information, but Adrastia shrugged it off. She could think of no way that he would be able to use it against her.

"I suppose the frailties of old age would be annoying." He conceded neutrally.

"Indeed, now will you tell me how you convinced so many sphinxes to follow you?"

"No, I don't think I will."

"Fine, then I will just assume that the rumors are true." She said flippantly.

"What rumors?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"That you engaged in a battle for dominance with the males and denied them mating rights unless they entered your service. That is also one of the more popular rumors on how you got your facial scars by the way. Oh, and there is also some amusing speculation as to whether you take advantage of your dominant position with the females."

Harry looked at her incredulously. "What the actual fuck? Have people even seen the size of the sphinxes? They're almost twice as big as a full grown tiger! Even if I was into that kind of thing, their twats would be way too big for either of us to get anything out of it."

"It's so nice to meet a man that cares about his lover's pleasure and not just his own." Adrastia sighed faux dreamily.

"Yes, that's exactly what I was getting at." Harry said sarcastically. "Are you just about done making me play tour guide?"

"No." She said primly. "Tell me about the living costs. Do you tax people for living on your land? Is there a set of written laws in effect? Do they have to pay rent or do you allow them to buy? Are there any restrictions on the creation and sale of goods? What is the population and is there some form of authority aside from you?"

"Why do you want to know all this?" He asked suspiciously.

"Maybe I'm thinking of settling down." She replied thoughtfully, looking at him demurely. "Find a nice, dependable husband. Settle down in a house with a white picket fence and raise some children."

"Right. And then maybe I'll join up with the Red Cross and go on a mission of mercy in Africa." Harry drolled sarcastically.

"It warms my heart to hear that you want to help my mother's homeland." She said sweetly, wiping away a fake tear.

"Your mother was from Africa?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Where else do you think I got my lovely black skin?"

"I figured you were born white and then turned black when the color of your heart started leaking through."

There was no holding back the laugh this time. "Oh Harry, you say the sweetest things."

"Yeah, I'm all charm." He replied, turning moody so abruptly that Adrastia could only blink in surprise. What was that about?

An uneasy silence settled over them and she decided to simply push on instead of questining Harry's sudden downturn of mood. "So, call me curious, but what _would_ you do in Africa if you hypothetically joined the Red Cross?"

A powerful wizard could do much, but that was a task that would require no small amount of creativity rather than direct benevolence if one actually cared to give meaningful help. Given Harry's temperament, he was bound to have some interesting ideas.

"I'd taint all the water supplies with a human specific contraceptive potion." He said and she could sense that he was being utterly serious.

"I can always count on you to have such wonderful ideas of problem resolution." Adrastia said a chuckle, highly amused. That potion's effects were permanent on the non-magical, unless they were flushed.

"I'll admit that I haven't spared much attention for this topic, but everything I've heard of Africa tells me that it's become something of a Gordian knot."

"And so you would do as Alexander and remove the lynchpin of the problem rather than attempting to untangle it?" She asked, still amused.

"Simple solutions are the best solutions."

"Yet this one is void of hope."

"Hope is the worst of all evils, for it prolongs the suffering of man." Harry said sagely.

"That sounds like Nietzsche." She noted.

Harry looked surprised. "I wouldn't have expected you to be familiar with a mundane philosopher."

"Magical literature is usually of woefully low quality and I bore easily, although I admit to being only passingly familiar with this particular one." She shrugged. "And how is it that _you_ are familiar with a mundane philosopher?"

"Nietzsche was my kind of guy." Harry also shrugged and then frowned. "Except for that baffling hard-on he had for Poland."

Now it was Adrastia who frowned. "Was he not German?"

"That's what makes it baffling."

"Ah."

"Anyway, back to the topic at hand." He said, pinning her with an intense green stare that once again made her want to sit on his face. "Why do you want to know all those things about Spellhaven."

"I really am just curious." She assured him. "It isn't as if this information would be terribly hard to get elsewhere, but I would prefer to hear it from you."

Harry's distrustful stare did not abate and he was no doubt trying to deduce what her angle was, but he wouldn't find it. Adrastia had no doubt that he was now skilled enough to sense whether the words spoken to him were true or false – he would have to be in order to enchant the Book of Arrivals to be capable of detecting falsehoods. That was one of the reasons why she was careful to never lie to him, except in jest.

Finally, he started speaking. "Taxes are something of a sticky issue. Frankly, Spellhaven got way bigger than I expected it to. Obviously, I can't fund the entire infrastructre, plus public services like hospitals and such, out of my own pocket without eventually going bankrupt, but I can't have actual taxes either because that would imply government and invite ICW meddling."

"How do you resolve the situation then?" She asked curiously.

"There are a number of dispersed systems in place to drain small amounts of money back to me, a percentage-based-on-profit addition to the rent on places of business and another percentage-based fee for anyone just coming here to conduct business."

"Like taxes, but in smaller chunks?" Adrastia asked, very amused.

Harry glowered at her. "Breathe a word of this to anyone and you'll never see the light of day again."

"My lips are sealed." She promised, still amused even though the threat was completely serious. _Although if you think this will be enough to keep the ICW off your back, then you are in for a rude awakening._

Harry continued, obviously ignoring her smile. "There is no formal legal code for the same reason that there are no formal taxes, but there is an informal understanding as to what constitutes 'acceptable behavior'. That probably won't work forever, but it has so far."

That was no doubt true. Lawlessness was by nature unsustainable.

"As long as it isn't blatantly harmful, then there are no restrictions on anything. No, people can't buy land, but the rent is fairly low since most of the money they spend here eventually goes right back into my coffers anyway."

"How would that work?" Adrastia jumped in. "Are people expected to pay for the construction of their own home and then pay rent for it as well?"

"They get three options. The first is to build their own home and pay a fairly negligible rent for the use of the land. The second is for me to pay for the services of professional architects and pay a considerably higher rent as a result. The middle ground is to move into an apartment building."

"How interesting." Adrastia murmured thoughtfully. It would be expensive to start with, but have good returns in the future. In theory. "Please continue."

"We haven't done a census to get an exact number, but we estimate that the population is currently somewhere around an even thousand give or take a few dozen. I expected a few hundred at the absolute most, but it is what it is. There are a few people others look to for informal leadership, but any real authority is restricted to my household."

"For an almost purely magical settlement, a thousand people is quite a high number." She said. "The largest concentraction of magi living together numbers at just over one and a half thousand and that is in North America."

"Like I said, Spellhaven has attracted more interest than I expected." Harry admitted, clearly not entirely happy with his runaway success.

"You have no idea how right you are."

"What do you mean?" He asked suspiciously.

"I think that you should perhaps invite me into your home and offer me some tea, or preferably wine, and then we can talk about that." Adrastia suggested whimsically.

"You are really beginning to try my patience." Harry said with an unamused scowl.

"I know that showing your guests proper courtesy is tedious, but please bear with it just a little longer." She said encouragingly.

Harry blinked and she could see the moment of realisation when it dawned on him that she hadn't asked for anything that a good host wouldn't have offered to a guest anyway. Of course, he had been viewing her as a untrusted ally at best and an enemy waiting for a chance to strike at worst, so it was only to be expected.

"Dora and Fleur did ask me to bring you over so that they could be part of this conversation, I suppose." He conceded grudgingly and turned the flying carpet towards the château.

"Exellent." She smiled.

Less than a minute later, they were passing through the doors of the château, which Adrastia noted were once again thick oak reinforced with iron, enchanted iron at that. The walls were also magically reinforced. It would take quite some battering to bring either down. Harry was taking his paranoia just a little bit too far now.

In sharp contrast to the doors and outer walls, the interior was decidedly lacking in a male touch. It was subtle, but anyone with a sense for interior design could tell the furniture and decorations had been picked out by female hands.

"Teeny." Harry called, interrupting her perusal of the foyer.

"Master Harry." The house elf squeaked as she appeared. "I is go call Mistress Luna."

"That was weird." Harry said with a blink and a frown. "She didn't even wait for me to give an order."

"She must have had previous orders already." Adrastia deduced.

"Yes, probably..."

The slight confusion was made more confusing when Luna skipped towards them. Stark naked and sweaty.

"Hello!" She greeted, giving Harry a hug and Adrastia a wave.

Adrastia was very amused. Harry certainly did pick up some wonderfully strange people.

"Luna, why are you naked?" He asked in a long-suffering voice.

The little blonde witch cocked her head sideways with a look of polite confusion.

"Why are you dressed?" She asked, completely serious.

"...because I can hardly go about my day starkers?" Harry ventured.

"That would be distracting." Luna agreed.

"What does that have to do with you being naked?"

"Well, I can hardly stay dressed in a sauna."

"You have a sauna?" Adrastia broke into the conversation.

"Mhm, some people came here from Scandinavia and they requested them." Luna explained enthusiastically. "We've never been in one and decided to try it, then we liked it so much that we just had to have one."

"It's been years since I was in a sauna." Adrastia said wistfully, remembering the experience. "That was how I met my third husband, and also how I lost him. He died of dehydration when the door got stuck."

"That's nice." Luna said, causing Adrastia some consternation when she couldn't figure out if the teenaged witch was being sarcastic or not. She didn't _sound_ sarcastic, but surely it couldn't be a genuine sentiment?

She glanced at Harry and saw that he was looking amused, no doubt enjoying her inability to read the girl. As if he could do any better.

"Were Fleur and Dora in the sauna with you?" He asked.

"Yes." Luna nodded. "Last I saw, Fleur was licking Nymphadora's vagina."

"Of course." Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "Would they like to be part of this conversation or should we leave them to their cunnilingus?"

"We could also join them." Adrastia suggested before Luna reply.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Harry groused.

"I would." She agreed. "Like I said; it has been years since the last time I was in a sauna."

"I think she wants to see your penis." Luna supplied helpfully.

"I have no doubt that it is a magnificent penis." Adrasita said, amused by Harry's obvious exasperation. "It would have to be for so many women to want a turn on it."

"Nymphadora can make one that is bigger and thicker and bumpier for us to play with, but I've always preferred Harry's." Luna confessed. "He just seems to have a better idea of what to do with it."

"...bumpier?" Adrastia had to ask.

"Yes, or knotted like a dog penis, or flared like a horse penis, or-"

"Enough about penises." Harry interrupted.

"Okay." Luna agreed easily. "Can we go back to the sauna now? I'm really not dressed properly for a conversation in the middle of the foyer."

This was true, the girl was shivering slightly.

Harry hesitated. Adrastia had never met a man so wary of getting naked with her.

"Don't worry, I don't bite." She assured, smirking when he gave her a dirty look.

"We're going to the drawing room." He said. "Luna, could you go ask Fleur and Dora if they want to join us?"

"No sauna then?" Adrastia asked poutily as the little blonde witch skipped away.

"No." Harry said simply and started walking, forcing her to follow. He was the most contrary sort of man.

There was already a bottle of wine waiting for them when they arrived in the drawing room and Adrastia wasted no time pouring herself a glass, still feeling a bit disappointed at missing out on a chance to see Harry naked.

She tried for some smalltalk, but her heart wasn't really in it and Harry only gave one word answers for the most part anyway.

A few minutes of this stilted atmosphere later and his women arrived. All of them were dressed in white silk bathrobes, but one of them stood out like a torch in the dark.

The snarky metamorphmagus was not looking like her usual self.

Her hair was a lustrous teal green, her eyes a shining silver, her skin a light violet and her form unusually tall and buxom, but by far the oddest thing were perhaps the excessively long and pointy ears. Adrastia had never seen the like of such a creature and had considerable doubts that it actually existed in the magical world – it was far too striking to go as unnoticed as it would have had to in order to escape her knowledge.

"Have you two been cosplaying without me?" Harry asked with mocking disapproval, although even a blind man would be able to tell that he liked what he saw.

Cosplaying. The term was unfamiliar to Adrastia, but she was reasonably sure that it came from the mundane world. Although she was more familiar with it than most magi even in the more progressive magical nations, her knowledge was still mostly restricted to higher level social pursuits. But she would research what this 'cosplaying' thing was and what it had to do this odd morph that Tonks was maintaining.

"You were busy." The veela waved off airily, settling herself on Harry's right side and kissing his cheek.

"But don't worry, we can play later." Tonks assured, also giving him a kiss on the cheek as she settled on his left side, although unlike the veela she left her own left side open enough for Luna to snuggle into as well.

"Alright, I've humored you long enough." Harry said once they were all settled in. "Why are you here, Adrastia?"

Adrastia took a slow sip of the rather good wine and noted with amusement that Delacour was already looking distinctly hot and bothered. Well, that would figure if she just got done licking Tonks and hadn't had a chance to get any herself. On the other side, Luna seemed wholly fascinated by the curve of Tonks' oversized, morphed ears rather than the conversation.

"Very well then, since you seem to have no appreciation for smalltalk, we will go with blunt honesty." She said. "I am here to pass on some choice information that I believe will interest you in the hope of being able to call upon your aid should I ever need it in the future."

"That much I figured," Harry stated neutrally. "but are you here for yourself alone or did Bjomolf send you?"

"I don't know." Adrastia answered honestly.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Tonks demanded irritably.

"I have long suspected that Bjomolf has ways of circulating information to make people do his bidding without exposing himself." Adrastia explained. "He knows me and knows how I am likely to act in most circumstances. Perhaps I came by this information through my own means and my own contacts or perhaps it was trickled to me by him. I simply do not know."

A lengthy silence descended and Adrastia would be willing to bet that they were wondering just how many unwitting spies there were in Spellhaven. Quite a few most likely.

"So, your information could be an attempt at manipulation." Harry finally said.

"It could." Adrastia conceded. "That does not make it false, however."

"And we're supposed to take your word for it?" Tonks asked coolly.

"Why not?" Adrastia countered. "My advice has helped you in the past and I have never done you any harm."

"You tried to kill Sirius." The metamorphmagus retorted, silver eyes narrowed.

"That was before I knew he was connected to someone important. I backed off as soon as I learned that Harry was a wizard to be wary of." Adrastia waved off. "Your dislike of me is likely just a remnant of your history in law enforcement rather than anything personal."

"You don't need to be an Auror to dislike serial killers."

"What about Harry then?" Adrasta asked, amused. "I would wager that his body count is considerably higher than mine now."

"That's different. You kill for amusement, he only kills out of necessity."

Adrastia could only give her a look of frank disbelief. True, Harry did not kill for amusement, but she strongly doubted that necessity was his only motivation. There was too little regret in it for that to be the case, no regret at all to be precise.

"Dora, enough." Harry said softly, pulling Tonks a bit closer. She huffed, but subsided all the same and he turned his attention back to Adrastia. "Tell us what you came here to share and I'll remember it in the future."

Adrastia favored him with her most beautiful smile. As she'd said, Bjomolf might be an ally right now, but he kept many things hidden from her. It would pay to cultivate a friendship with Harry should she ever find herself at odds with the ancient vampire. Pity that it likely wouldn't be a friendship with benefits, but you couldn't have everything.

"My first bit of information pertains to this lovely island of yours." She began. "Simply put, you've become a subject of interest for essentially the entirety of the magical world and – despite your attempts to avoid it – you can expect the ICW to summon you sooner or later."

Harry exhaled a huffy breath of exasperation. "Why? We aren't a nation. Spellhaven is essentially private property."

"True, but you may not be aware of the full scope of just what you've done here." Adrastia warned. "I have been hearing all sorts of whispers around Europe over the past few months. The goblins are gnashing their teeth and grumbling about you violating the spirit – if not the letter – of the treaty they have with the ICW and the various Ministries of Magic."

"Hypocritical little shits." Harry muttered.

Adrastia ignored him and kept on talking. "The Ministries of Magic, in turn, are grumbling because you are siphoning trade away from them-"

"What do you mean by that?" Fleur interrupted, seemingly startled enough to stop nibbling on Harry's ear. Briefly.

"Oh, you didn't know?" Adrastia was amused. "You have – possibly accidentally if that reaction is anything to go by – created something of a trade and tax haven here. The magical governments of the world usually have a good amount of trade going on between them, all of it regulated and taxed, the legal parts at any rate. Then you come along, with your completely neutral, unregulated, essentially lawless island that also happens to act as the only convenient midway point between the magical parts of the Old and New worlds. Why do you think you've managed to get such a large population in a mere few months? A thousand wizards and witches is no small number, more than some of the smaller magical nations in fact. And the influx of new people hasn't slowed down, has it?"

"No." Harry admitted.

"There is a reason for that." Adrastia said with a nod. "Many have realised or are starting to realise the opportunity you've presented and are flocking to take advantage. Spellhaven is poised to become the primary trading hub of the entire magical world simply for its convenient access to trading partners and the lack of regulation. That whatever cut of the profits you take is lower than the taxes they paid before is another factor. Lastly, you must keep in mind that ours is a _very_ small world. Relatively speaking, Spellhaven is rapidly becoming roughly equivalent to a major city like London or New York and not everyone is happy about it."

She saw their surprised looks and couldn't help but be amused. Only Harry could do something like this without meaning to. He might not have a direct hand in the trade itself, but the ever increasing amounts of money exchanging hands on Spellhaven was not something to be disregarded.

"On top of it all is your clear disdain towards government restrictions on the creation and trade of certain items that are banned everywhere else. Your reputation, power, wealth, political influence in Magical Britain and the deliberate legal ambiguity surrounding Spellhaven has had the ICW somewhat flummoxed and hesitant on what to do, but they will eventually stop squabbling amongst each other and come here in an attempt to bring you in line with their own interests. To summarise, your laissez-faire attitude is making you obscenely rich, but it is also making you enemies everywhere because you are changing the established economical landscape."

Harry stared at her for a long few seconds, then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Definitely _not_ what I had in mind. I just wanted my own space in this world away from the fucking bureaucrats."

"There is no more empty space in the world, any that you take for yourself will have been taken from others." Adrastia mocked and continued happily, knowing it would increase his exasperation. "Nobody is quite realising it yet, but as your prominence on the international stage grows, Spellhaven will also begin exerting social pressure on the rest of the magical world. Traditionalists or progressives, _nobody_ is going to like that for the simple fact that it will lessen their own power."

"Wouldn't my aunt have known and warned us about this?" Tonks asked dubiously, directing her question more towards Harry than to her.

"Not necessarily." Adrastia replied anyway. "A skilled politician and socialite she may be, but Narcissa Black is still little more than the daughter of an insular noble house from an isolated society. She likely did not even think to consider the international impact of what you are doing."

"Right." Harry grunted unhappily. "You said that they'll summon me? I have to say that I'm not keen on being called like some kind of servant."

"Nor should you be, it is a transparent power play meant to place you in a subordinate position. Refuse them, politely, and suggest that they send a delegation to you instead."

"Any idea who they'll send?"

"No, but it is a fair bet that the delegation will be comprised of those most affected by your actions. Expect them to attempt overawing you into compliance with the implied threat of their combined political clout."

"Oh, that's not going to work." Luna said absently, most of her attention still on the oversized ears that Tonks was sporting.

"No, I don't think so either." She agreed, sending Harry an amused smile. "Which is why you should be prepared for something more substantial. We are past the age when war wizards would be sent against you with little to no provocation, but not past the one where a pacification force would be dispatched if it was deemed that you are in gross violation of ICW guidelines. Play them against each other if you can. The ICW constituents nominally work towards the greater good of the magical world as a whole, but in truth rarely have any common cause. Whatever show of unity they make at first, it will be brittle and hollow."

"I'll keep it in mind." Harry said thoughtfully, clearly already thinking of ways to handle it.

Adrastia dearly wished that she could be present for confrontation, it would doubtlessly be an interesting meeting. She would get the details from one of her sources eventually of course, but it wouldn't be the same as actually being there.

"Well, that was all I had for you on the civilised side of things." She said.

"Meaning you still have something on the _un_ civilised side of things?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes. I was in Romania the other day, looking for something to amuse myself with, when I was approached by a young man that obviously thought himself quite dangerous. It only took three nights for him to let slip about all the powerful magic he was learning from a wizard by the name of Antonin Dolohov."

"You wouldn't happen to know where exactly we could find Dolohov, would you?" Harry asked, leaning forward intently and inadvertently forcing Tonks and Delacour to do the same.

"I thought that might catch your attention." Adrastia chuckled. "No, I do not know his exact location, but I doubt it will be terribly hard to find it. What you should be more worried about is their organisation."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"From what I have been able to learn, Dolohov is acting in a semi-independent capacity, with only sporadic input from Voldemort himself. He is also apparently the only one that knows anyone outside of their small group."

Harry grasped the implications immediately. "He's dispersed his forces. Instead of having them clumped together in one place, they're divided into clandestine cells like a modern terrorist organisation. Not good, but Dolohov at least will still know something useful."

"You will have to be wary however." Adrastia commented idly, polishing off the last of her wine. "If you are seen to be operating in Romania – or indeed any country outside of Britain – it will cause you considerable diplomatic difficulties. More importantly, it will give the ICW something to hold over you."

Harry scowled. "I didn't think of that."

"Might I make a suggestion?"

Harry gestured for her to go ahead.

"Do nothing overt for now. Allow Voldemort to continue with whatever it is he is doing and use the threat he represents as leverage in your discussions with the ICW representatives. Force concessions out of them in exchange for your aid against him."

"That would leave innocent people to die, people we might have saved if we acted right away." Tonks said accusingly.

"It was just a suggestion." Adrastia shrugged and smiled at Harry invitingly. "Come, Harry. Look into my mind and let me share what I know with you."

"You'd let me use Legilimency on you?" He asked skeptically.

"I trust you not to peek elsewhere." She replied with a wink. It was the truth, not that it mattered since she was an extremely skilled Occlumancer.

Harry was still skeptical, but he nodded nonetheless.

His mental probe had an interesting flavor to it. Precise and controlled, he observed the memories she pushed forward with unwavering focus and his thoughts did not stray at all. Even when they came to the memories of her bedding the young fool, Harry remained coolly unruffled.

Once all the useful information had been passed on, Adrastia felt playful. She pushed forward the memory of her last coupling with the man and warped it, replacing the would-be Death Eater with Harry. Since this was her memory, he would experience it from her point of view, meaning that it would appear as if he was riding himself.

There was a distinct sense of irritation tinged with a little amusement present and Harry pushed forward a memory of his own. Having a mastery of Occlumency, Adrastia could blocked it, but she was curious.

The scene changed from her riding False-Harry in a comfortable bedroom into some kind of BDSM dungeon. There was a brief glimpse of a pale woman with black hair being bound belly down on a table before the memory was warped and her features were replaced with Adrastia's own.

It was an odd thing, experiencing sex from a male perspective and seeing herself getting fucked in such a submissive position, especially since she didn't do anal. There was a familiar thrill of dominance to the memory, but it wasn't quite the same as her own. Harry enjoyed the power, but not the ruination of his conquests and she knew in an instant that the pale woman with black hair that had lived this memory subjected herself to it completely willingly. How dull.

Deciding to show him something else, Adrastia pushed forward another of her own memories.

The mental landscape shifted from the dungeon into an opulent parlor decorated in shades of burgundy and lit only by a dim fire.

"Suck my toes, worm." Memory-Adrastia commanded, sitting imperiously on an oversized armchair.

The man in the memory, one of her earlier conquests from many years ago, had been nearly broken completely by this point, stripped of pride and dignity. Although clearly reluctant, he crawled forward on all fours and began to do as he'd been told.

Adrastia could still recall the rush of power and satisfaction she'd felt in this moment, the malicious glee at knowing that she had destroyed this once proud and powerful man and knew that Harry felt the echo of it as well.

With another twist, the man in the memory turned into Harry. Seeing his emerald eyes looking up at her, filled with the pathetic hope that she would be pleased by his obedience, made her loins burn with lust, even if she knew it wasn't really him.

Unlike the disgust and anger she knew most people would feel in his place, Adrastia could feel only a sort of wry exasperation from Harry and knew that he did not hold her appetites against her.

But it was clear that he would never allow himself to be put into such a position.

The scene shifted back to the dungeon from before and Adrastia beheld her false self kneeling on the floor, her wrists and neck bound closely to a low wooden post and her only garment an odd sort of chastity belt that she instinctively knew was equipped with a pair of dildoes designed to continually penetrate both vaginally and anally.

Harry was standing before her false self and stroking his manhood directly in front of her face.

"Please!" False-Adrastia mewled pathetically, squirming in place and staring at the erection in front of her face like it was the last drink of water in a desert.

"Please what?" Memory-Harry demanded. Adrastia again felt the echo of his emotions in the memory, the lust and the sense of power, but the malice she was familiar with in herself was replaced with affection. Harry did not love whoever this woman was, but he cared for her nonetheless. She was a respected friend, although one wouldn't guess it given her current position.

"Please cum on my face." False-Adrastia begged and Memory- Harry did, spalttering his seed across her desperate features and into her open mouth.

Even knowing it was not really her, the unsightly spectacle of seeing herself so debased was discomforting and vaguely infuriating.

Adrastia broke off the mental link and smiled at Harry, burying her emotions and hiding any sign that he had gotten to her.

"That was fun, we should do it again some day." She said, getting up.

"Anytime, Adrastia. Anytime." Harry replied with a smirk. He knew that he'd won that exchange and was no doubt enjoying the revenge for the games she'd played with him earlier.

Adrastia hated losing, but wasn't so prideful as to keep fighting a hopeless battle. Harry believed himself too powerful for anyone to subjugate and had a corresponding lack fear of it, that was why he could brush off what she had showed him.

Unlike her, who had been under another's control once before and the fear of it happening again had never left her. The things that Harry had showed her struck a little too close to home, particularly since she had been provoking him to do it not so long ago.

XXXXX

The door had barely closed behind Adrastia before Harry found himself assaulted by a horny veela.

"Easy there, he needs to breathe." Dora said in amusement.

"This is all Luna's fault." A slightly breathless and flushed Fleur complained. "She interrupted us."

"I'm sorry." Luna said guilelessly. "I can lick your vagina while Harry and Nymphadora talk if you'd like."

Fleur looked at Harry, biting her lower lip and rubbing her thighs together. "Will you take long?"

"No, we'll be right along." Harry assured.

The two blondes scampered off towards the bedroom.

"I can't believe how bad she's gotten over one missed morning shag." Dora muttered in exasperation.

Both of them had started the day before dawn, which meant that Fleur had only Luna in bed with her when she woke and the youngest member of their foursome preferred sleep over morning sex.

"We've spoiled her." Harry agreed, amused.

They really had. Veela could usually keep a lid on their libido for weeks at a time if it was truly necessary, but Fleur hadn't needed to hold back in years, even less so since the creation of Spellhaven. Oh, she could probably still function if denied, but she'd be cranky and irritable.

"So..." Dora said casually.

Harry grabbed her by the waist and attacked her mouth with every bit of enthusiasm that Fleur had shown earlier.

"Harry!" Dora gasped and panted once she managed to pull away. "We really do need to talk."

Harry grinned back at her, hands creeping over to give her silk covered arse a firm squeeze. "Sorry, but you know what night elf booty does to me."

One of the first thoughts that passed through his head when Dumbledore had told him about Dora's Metamorph ability years ago had been the sexual applications of it. There was simply no avoiding the thought. Still, he had known that it if they were to ever have that kind of play, it would need to be her idea.

It had paid off in the end. At first, she had stayed in the form that she was the most comfortable in and only used her powers in the bedroom sparingly. Eventually she'd become comfortable enough to start playing around on her own. Finally, the last of her reluctance and insecurity had faded and she had asked Luna, Fleur and himself for ideas. The form of Tyrande Whisperwind was his latest suggestion. It was one of her favorites as well.

Dora rolled her silver eyes, but smirked at him all the same. "I know, but we can play later. Talk now."

"Right, talk." Harry murmured, leaning on to nibble on one of her elongated ears. He knew that they were _very_ sensitive.

"Harry." She whined, somewhere between frustrated and aroused. "If you can't control yourself I'll...I'll morph into a murloc! See if you're still randy then."

Harry pulled back and gave her an appalled look. "How could you say something so horrible?"

"Brgubugbugrguburgle!" She warbled wetly with an impish smirk.

"Well, that's killed it." Harry said mournfully.

"Don't worry, I know a resurrection spell for that." Dora purred and then suddenly turned serious. "Just tell me that you aren't thinking of doing as Zabini suggested."

"I'm afraid that I am thinking about it." He admitted.

"Harry, we can't just let the Death Eaters do whatever they want until it becomes politically convenient to stop them." Dora insisted.

Unlike Harry, to whom the lives of strangers had no value, she still retained an Auror mentality.

"I know, but if we get caught taking such extreme action in foreign countries without permission we'll get bogged down by the resulting political shitstorm. In the long term, that would probably be worse than not doing anything right away." He argued back.

"You know, I think I liked you better before you started getting all politically savvy on me." Dora said petulantly.

Harry found her little scowl to be terribly cute.

"Not to worry." He said lightly, massaging her rear end sensually. "Maybe we can't go after them as directly as we'd like, but that doesn't mean we can't spy on them. I'll send Huginn and Muninn to keep watch, and I'll find a spot in Romania to plant another Palantir or two."

"Alright, but if they're abducting or killing people, we move in on them no matter what." Dora said firmly, slipping out of his grasp to stare at him with those entrancing silver eyes.

"Agreed, let's solidify this pact by with the ancient rite of mating." Harry reached over to grasp her breasts, but she skittered away.

"As if the High Priestess of Elune would sully herself with a lower life form." She said haughtily,mimicking the tone and mannerisms of Tyrande Whisperwind. The twitching of her lips gave her away though.

"I'll show you a lower life form." Harry growled playfully and began chasing after her.

Dora squealed with laughter and started running towards the bedroom, tossing her silk robe in his face as a distraction.

A mere few seconds after they were gone, Teeny popped in and carefully folded the robe with a smile on her face. She was always glad to see her family happy. Maybe they would make a little wizard this time? A house elf could hope.

XXXXX

 _April 6th. Ravenhead._

While Harry's body stood before the Master Palantir, his consciousness was far away, in Romania.

He had delivered a newly made Slave Palantir to the country and was now using it to spy on his quarry.

Using the seeing-stones took some getting used to. With no eyes to see and no ears to hear, he had to gather information with mind and soul instead. The innumerable Voices of the world sang in his mind, painting a picture that mere mortal senses could never hope to. The steady tones of inanimate objects that echoed the touch of man and animal, the simple souls of plants that cared only for earth and rain and sun, the instinctive ones of animals looking to eat-mate-sleep and the complex and many-layered souls of sapient creatures.

Those things touched by magic were by far the easiest to perceive, glowing with purpose as they did. Among the many strands of magic that Harry could perceive in Romania's magical shopping district, one in particular interested him. The possessive, malicious stain of the Dark Mark, clinging to the souls of those on whom it was branded like a parasite.

Upon researching the fully active Dark Mark, Harry had come to the unsettling realisation that the magical brand had the hidden feature of engendering a subtle sense of loyalty towards Voldemort. That discovery had given him cause to be more wary of Severus Snape, although he still didn't really think that the man was truly loyal to Voldemort. Probably best to eventually kill him just to be on the safe side.

But Snape was an issue for the future. Right now, Dolohov was on the menu. So far his – admittedly limited – observation had told him that the escaped convict was doing nothing more nefarious than sharing a drink with some people in a low class watering hole located in Romania's analogue of Knocturn Alley. Recruiting no doubt, even if they were currently talking about something entirely unrelated.

This form of observation wasn't much good for eavesdropping of course, but that was what Legilimency and animal possession was for. Even if he couldn't move on Dolohov just yet, he would keep an eye on him.

Soon enough, there would be a Slave Palantir near every magical gathering place in Europe. Voldemort and his Death Eaters may have had a few months of successful hiding from him, but all it had achieved was to spur him to make a better method. He would cover the world with Palantiri and nothing would be hidden from his sight if that was what it took.

XXXXX


	44. Chapter 44

**Greetings and salutations to all. First let me just assure you that I am not sick, dead, afflicted by hurricanes, abandoning the fic or anything of the sort. This chapter just happened to be a pain in the ass to get right. I had to rewrite certain sections of it 15 times.**

 **And on that note, effusive thanks go to Joe Lawyer for his excellent feedback and advice. Without him I'd probably still be trying to wrestle the chapter into submission.**

 **Now for a response to guest reviewer Morty – I'm doing no such thing. While there is inevitably some degree of similarity between my personal world view and Harry's, they are hardly identical. Of course, I can't really blame you for getting that impression since you have no way of knowing the difference.**

XXXXX

 _April 9th, 2018. Ravenhead, the Seeing Seat._

Fleur disengaged from the Palantír and rubbed her temples with a grimace. Her mind felt like unbaked pizza dough, soft and stretched thin. It was hard to think, though it was getting easier.

"Five minutes this time." Harry said. "You're getting better."

"By time maybe, but I couldn't discern what I was seeing any better than before." Fleur countered with another grimace. "I think it may be time to concede that you are the only one who can use this thing properly."

"I still think that practice would let you girls use it as well, but I won't push you." Harry shrugged.

Dora, Fleur and Luna had asked to try out the Palantíri three days ago, but they didn't have nearly his aptitude for it. Perhaps it was because he had made them, perhaps it was because he was more skilled at the Mind Arts and Will Manifestation, perhaps because he found it easier to separate himself from the world and simply observe it, perhaps his mind worked differently thanks to his runes or something else. Maybe it was all of the above. Whatever the case, they had far more trouble using the Palantír than he did.

"You've been spending an awful lot of time here the past few days." Fleur commented. "Seen anything interesting?"

"Not as such." Harry answered with a shrug. "I've mostly been organising my feathery spy network. I don't have to go there in person anymore now that I can issue commands via Palantír."

He had crafted another Slave Palantír and placed it in Ukraine, thinking that he might find some more of Voldemort's minions there due to its proximity to Romania. While that hadn't borne any fruit yet, he had at least been able to conscript the local ravens into being his eyes and ears.

"Nymmie tells me that the Taboo pinged again earlier today."

"Yeah, another false alarm." He sighed.

"Harry, you need to hire a chief of security to take care of these things." Fleur said firmly, getting to the point. "I know you don't want to give out any of your secrets, but not only are you spread too thin, you are also not a security expert. If you could delegate the mirror research to Septima and her people, then you can do it with security as well."

Harry huffed unhappily, but didn't refute her points. It was true after all, he _was_ spread a little thin and he _was_ just guessing at what constituted proper security. Hiring someone that actually knew what they were doing would make it far more effective.

But, and there was always a but, the idea of delegating the island's security to someone else didn't sit easy with him. He'd had no qualms about turning over work on the mirrors to Septima and her crew – that was just business and designed to keep him rich so that he didn't have to worry about money for the projects that he actually cared about.

Spellhaven's administration he also delegated where he could and Narcissa was fortunately more than happy to take the reins, but that was another thing that he only cared about peripherally.

Security was something that he _had_ to take seriously however. Unfortunately, delegating it would mean letting someone else access the wards. It would mean revealing the Taboo and the Marauder's Map. It would mean relying on some third party to do a good job and not be a problem themselves.

"I know, it's just...I don't really trust anyone that much outside of you three girls." Harry admitted. He would have gladly turned the task over to Dora, but she had little interest in organising security on top of being the primary trainer for them.

"Then trust Nymmie to pick an appropriate security chief." Fleur said smugly. "She already has someone in mind."

"Of course she does." Harry rolled his eyes. Dora been the first to bring up the notion of hiring a chief of security, but he had resisted the idea at the time. Apparently she'd gone ahead and picked someone out anyway, probably anticipating that he wouldn't be able to keep stalling indefinitely. "Do I know him or her?"

As long as it wasn't Moody...

Harry had great respect for the battered old Auror's experience and paranoia, but he was Dumbledore's man.

"You might." Fleur replied with a careless shrug. "Jeremiah, or 'Jeremy' as he prefers, Kincaid. Apparently he's a former Auror from North America that was forced into early retirement because he lost an arm fighting some dark wizard."

"Ah, that might work." Harry didn't know the man personally so the name meant nothing to him, but he did know that the wizards of North America were a good deal more security conscious than British ones. It had driven him crazy when he'd been there.

The Americans also had more stringent guidelines than Britain on what kind of people were Auror material and cripples didn't make the cut. Some sequence of events must have led to this Kincaid character ending up on Spellhaven, possibly involving bitterness over his injury and dismissal from the Auror Corps.

If he did decide to employ the man, Harry would have to see about fashioning him a new limb, either of flesh or metal. It never hurt to give the people working for you a reason to be grateful, especially if you were putting them in charge of security. It might not be possible as injuries caused by hostile magic often resisted healing, but that was alright. Harry wasn't a healer anyway.

XXXXX

 _April 10th. Spellhaven._

Harry found Jeremiah 'Jeremy' Kincaid to be an amusing man. Not because he had a sense of humor, he had demonstrated little of that so far, but because he was so damn stiff. The forty-something wizard had been all 'yes, sir" and standing stiffly at attention ever since he'd entered the cháteau and even sitting down still looked stiff. The American Auror Corps was starting to seem more like a military organisation than a police one.

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions, Mr. Kincaid?" Harry inquired.

"Not at all, sir."

"Alright then. The first thing I'm curious about is what brought you to Spellhaven in the first place."

Kincaid's face briefly twisted into something bitter before he answered. "I used to spend a lot of time at work. Then I got discharged from the corps and found out that my wife had been using that as an opportunity to have an affair. I wasn't in a good place and things got ugly quick. We put each other in the hospital, which wiped out most of my savings now that the government wasn't paying for my medical bills anymore. My bitch wife got custody of our son and put on a teary act in front of the judge about how scared of me she is, so now I only get to see my boy once a month."

"Damn, you have the shittiest luck." Harry shook his head, feeling a mix of incredulity and amusement at the hammering that life had given this guy recently.

Still, that last part could be a problem if someone got it into their head to use the son as leverage. They'd have to see about changing those custody arrangements. A generous application of money paired with a slander campaign against the ex-wife would probably do it.

"Tell me about it." Kincaid muttered. "Anyway, I heard you were recruiting people to fight that Voldiemort character and I had nothing better to do. Figured it was worth a shot to see if you'd take a wizard without his dominant arm."

Word of that had reached America? Sure, they hadn't really tried to keep it secret, but Harry hadn't thought that the scuffle between him and Voldemort would be considered news over there.

Also, Voldiemort. Hah!

"You want to join the Raven Host?" He asked.

Harry may have matured considerably from the eleven-year-old that related everything he encountered to something he'd previously seen in one fictional fantasy setting or another, but he definitely hadn't outgrown his penchant for stealing things from them.

Calling his minions the Raven Host appealed to him on multiple levels even if he'd never played Warhammer Online: Age of Reckoning. It was probably a bit unwise to so blatantly make all these raven connections and thus hint at his Animagus form, but Harry was not completely immune to the lure of vanity and symbolism.

"Yes. sir."

Well, that was potentially a problem. If the man was looking for action then he may not want to work as chief of security.

"Do you know why I asked to see you today?" Harry asked after a few seconds of consideration.

"No, sir. Ms. Tonks wouldn't say."

"I need a chief of security for the island." He said bluntly. "I'm a powerful wizard and I can do all sorts of things that most people can't, but I'm still seventeen and basically guessing what constitutes good security."

"You want me to be the chief of security for Spellhaven?" Kincaid asked, surprised.

Harry nodded. "I'll understand if you'd rather join the Raven Host, but we need someone competent running security around here more than we need another fighter. Regardless of what you choose, I'm also offering to take a look at your arm and seeing if I can't do something about it."

"You think you can do something about my missing arm?" the American wizard sounded both skeptical and hopeful.

"Depends on how you lost it." Harry shrugged.

"Basic cutting curse, although a powerful one."

That would be more trouble than if he'd lost it to a mundane blade, but less than if the loss had been the result of a 'dark' curse. Harry could work with that.

"Alright, I'm pretty sure that I can give you a fully articulate silver prosthetic at least. There's also a chance that I may be able to magically clone you an entirely new arm and attach it to you, but you'd have to willingly part with some blood and skin for that." He warned.

Kincaid looked conflicted, and with good reason. Willingly giving blood to another magic user was a damn stupid thing to do. A skilled enough wizard could protect himself from any spells sent his way through blood taken forcibly or otherwise without the consent of the donor, but if you gave it willingly then there was no defense.

But the former Auror wasn't as paranoid as Moody and the lure of having his arm back eventually proved too much of a temptation. A few days later, he had a new arm and had agreed to take over Spellhaven's security.

Harry was pleased at how painless that was. He'd still have to keep an eye on Kincaid himself just to make sure that _he_ wasn't a spy for someone of course, but all in all he was happy with how that went.

He also asked Fleur's grandmother to point a veela or two in the man's direction. While he hadn't gotten any 'spy' vibes from him, a few months of boinking a veela wouldn't go amiss in securing his loyalty. Plus, there weren't many better ways to forget a bad marriage.

And there was still the willingly given blood... Harry was not so far gone that he would use it to enslave the man, but he had no problem using it as a base to craft a device that would immediately alert him to even a twinge of dishonesty or hostility from Kincaid.

XXXXX

 _April 15th, 2018. Ravenhead._

"Please! Don't do this. I don't want to die!" The man sobbed, one of the grunts that had been captured at Malfoy Manor. Harry had never bothered learning his name. Dora might have, but all she'd said about him was that he was a rapist and a murderer, although he could have guessed the former by himself given that his shapeshifting lover had deemed it necessary to castrate the man.

"Silence, dog. You have no purpose but to die by my hand." Harry replied with cold indifference, although his lips trembled from the effort of keeping the grin off his face. He had always wanted to use that line. Jon Irenicus would forever be one of his favorite villains.

The man continued to beg for his life. Above him, a colorless crystal hovered, it's sharp end pointed at his heart.

Harry made a cut on the man's arm, opening the veins and letting the blood flow into the ritual circle. Then he ran out of the room, slamming the thick iron doors shut.

Less than a minute later, the walls shuddered and Harry hung his head in disappointment. Failure.

Going back into the room, he was unsurprised to find that the only thing left of his test subject was a huge bloodstain...actually, it was more of a paint job. Khorne would be pleased, if he wasn't a magic-hating little bitch.

There was no sign of the crystal and the air was thick with fear and pain and anger, the last echoes of the dead man's life. It would be murder to purge the room enough to make it usable again.

And back to the drawing board on project 'find a way to store magical energy for later use'. Magic simply did not want to exist in a ready-to-use form. It was always either untapped within magi or given purpose in spells, enchanted items and magical creatures. The crystal had been an attempt to circumvent this problem, but that had just turned it into a bomb.

"Need something to purge the magic of human taint and stabilise it in raw form." Harry muttered to himself as he walked back to the room that contained the previously mentioned drawing board.

XXXXX

 _April 17th, 2018. Ravenhead._

"It _can't_ be this easy." Harry said, staring at the mass of arithmantic equations in disbelief and no small amount of shock.

XXXXX

 _April 20th, 2018. Ravenhead._

Tonks walked through the stone halls of Ravenhead in search of her man with a sense of deep exasperation.

Harry was always prone to getting caught up in his projects, but he was being especially ridiculous about it lately. This was the third day in a row that he'd needed to be fetched so that he'd go to bed and there was no telling how many times he'd used the Time Turner.

She predictably found him in his study. Unlike the one he had back on Spellhaven, this one was clearly designed for magical research rather than administration. There was no desk, one wall was taken up by a huge blackboard, another by a bookcase and the last led to another room that she knew to be a meticulously organised archive of his various projects.

Harry was currently slouching in one of those lounge chairs that were so iconic for psychiatric offices and staring at the blackboard. He turned towards her when she entered and gave her a tired smile.

"Hey." He greeted.

"Do I even want to know how long your day has been?" She asked.

"Long." He quipped with a shrug. Even that looked tired.

"You know that letting someone else handle the island's security was supposed to give you time to relax, right?" Tonks chided.

"I was relaxing." Harry countered indignantly.

"Sure you were." She countered sarcastically. "Scoot over."

Once he obeyed the order, she wiggled into place behind him so that he was resting against her chest. A quick exertion of will and her breasts inflated to the perfect size and shape to pillow his head. Then she started massaging his temples with a weak healing spell gathered at the tips of her fingers, knowing that he must have worked nearly to the point of migraine. Again. Relaxing her adjustable arse.

Sure enough, he sighed in relief at her touch and relaxed against her.

"You're entirely too good for me." He murmured.

"You're damn right I am." Tonks agreed. "So what has you so distracted that you'd neglect not one, but three girlfriends? That's dangerous, you know."

He gestured at the blackboard, which was covered in arithmantic equations in base seven math, magically animated diagrams and even what looked like mundane chemistry of all things. Weird.

"Alright, what am I looking at?" She asked. "Because I can't make heads or tails of it."

"Have you ever wondered if you could use your metamorph power to stay young forever?" Harry digressed.

The question threw her and she briefly stopped rubbing circles into his temples, restarting only when she felt him frown in displeasure.

"Well...sure I have, but I always figured that old age would catch up to me even if I didn't look it. I mean, it would be kind of crazy if I was born technically immortal, wouldn't it?"

It was true that there were no records of metamorphs dying of old age, but they were so rare and had historically been so coveted that there was nothing strange about that. Tonks had always been glad to have not been born in an earlier age, where she'd likely have ended up as some pervert's property before her age hit double digits.

"There's no reason why it should be impossible." Harry said quietly. "Death by old age is nothing more than some biological component getting worn out and failing, but you can alter your body to such an extent that it seems unlikely for that to ever happen. You can increase and decrease your age, you can switch gender, displace organs, redirect blood vessels, even give yourself non-human features that somehow function on a human body. Most critically, if you're wounded, you can close your wounds as long as there isn't any malicious magic preventing it. I can't think of any reason why you shouldn't be able to keep your body young indefinitely."

"But that's insane." Tonks protested, the thought that she'd been born essentially immortal simply too much to wrap her head around right now.

"Is it really? Wizards and witches have easily double the lifespan of normal humans simply due to our subconscious desires delaying old age, how many years would a body as malleable as yours add?"

"Is that what you've been doing here all this time? Thinking about how to make Luna a metamorphmagus again?" She asked, changing the subject rather than dealing with her potentially unlimited lifespan.

Harry had long been fascinated by her ability, but had been unable to replicate it. He could self-transfigure like a master, but not in the same way that she did. He was still convinced that he could have done it if not for the runes he'd carved into himself. According to him, they created 'hard chunks of magic' in what was otherwise 'ordinary meat'.

Tonks was still doubtful about his claims that he'd be able to simply create a metamorph talent out of nothing, but was unwilling to say it out loud for fear of being proven wrong. Harry had achieved just a bit too much in his short life for her to be certain that he'd actually fail at it. As things stood, he'd merely decided that even if he and Fleur couldn't do it on account of their magic-infused bodies, nothing was stopping Luna from doing it.

"Not at all." Harry replied. Why the hell did he sound so amused? "I was thinking about how to stockpile magical energy and immortality just sort of came up. I figured that your little talent was as good a segue into the topic as any."

"Just sort of came up?" She repeated flatly. "How does immortality 'just sort of come up'?"

"It's a bit of a funny story really." Harry began explaining, still obviously amused. "I was doing some research on the creation of a catalyst that would allow me to distill and concentrate untapped magic into a stable, but still reactive, form. One thing led to another and I accidentally figured out how to create a Philosopher's Stone."

In her surprise, Tonks inadvertently pressed her fingers into the sides of Harry's skull with a lot more force than necessary.

"Wha...?" She questioned eloquently, ignoring the noise of protest he made at the rough treatment.

The pinnacle of alchemy, that had been reached only once in history as far as anyone could reliably say, and now her overachieving boyfriend of seventeen claimed that he could do it.

Tonks knew that Harry was smart and had both an intuition and passion for learning magic that far outstripped his sense of caution, restraint or even morals...perhaps especially his morals, but this was just too much. Renowned alchemists had spent their entire lives trying to recreate Nicholas Flamel's success with nothing to show for it, yet Harry had it figured out it in days? And by accident?

She could only sigh and slump into the lounge chair, in restrospect not even _that_ surprised. Alchemy was the 'science' of magic after all, a field of magical study that went wider and deeper than things like Transfiguration or Potions. It was _always_ going to be something that Harry would dive into whole-heartedly.

"What the hell are we going to do with you?" Tonks asked in resignation.

"Roleplay as Lady Death for me?" He suggested and she could _feel_ him grinning.

"Who is Lady Death and why would I roleplay her?" She asked pointedly, although not necessarily against the idea. Harry did have some good suggestions for roleplay in the bedroom after all.

"Comic book character. Human-turned-goddess that becomes the Queen of Hell and basically the Avatar of Death. Very pale. As for why you would roleplay her...well, when else am I going to get a chance to say I fucked death up the arse?"

"I should ban you from going anywhere near my arse ever again just for being such a cheeky cunt." She scoffed, flicking his ear.

"Ow." He complained, rubbing at his ear.

"You had it coming."

"So, is that a no to Lady Death?" He asked instead of denying it. Smart man.

"Are there any films with her in it?"

"An animated one, I think. I have to admit that I only came across the character in passing when I was researching something else."

"And only looked into her further because she has good tits, I'll bet." Tonks snorted.

"All important female characters have great tits in comics." He countered smoothly, which was basically an agreement.

"You're lucky that I appreciate a good pair of tits myself and I suppose you _do_ deserve a reward for such an amazing achievement."

"It wasn't that hard actually." Harry said casually.

"Sure, that's why there's so many Philosopher's Stones in the world." She snarked, strangely incensed by his cavalier attitude.

"The reason that there aren't more of them is because wizards are really bad at connecting the dots." Harry replied, amused. "You, Luna and Fleur don't have interests in the right direction, so you wouldn't be able to do it right away, but give it a few months of specialised instruction and you could. Dumbledore definitely could. I don't know what kinds of things Voldemort knows, but he might very well be able to do it. Flitwick, McGonagall and Snape working together probably could as well with some effort. It takes a good bit of skill with alchemy and magic in general, but it really isn't as hard as it's cracked up to be from a magical perspective, as long as you figure out the missing link."

"What missing link?"

"Chemistry." He stated, as if that explained everything.

It only made her blink in surprise and confusion. She had, at best, a very basic knowledge of chemistry and couldn't for the life of her see any connection between it and magic that would lead to the creation of a Philosopher's Stone.

"...What about it?"

Harry sighed in disappointment. "Chemistry studies the basic building blocks of the universe. Atoms, molecules, their properties and how they interact. A Philosopher's Stone is essentially element zero on the periodic table, the bridge between the physical and metaphysical. I'd be willing to bet my pinkies that Flamel was laughing himself sick for the past century or more as fully half the work needed to create a Philosopher's Stone, the harder half at that, was done by mundane scientists and not a single wizard saw it."

"That's probably for the best." Tonks said after processing the somewhat horrifying mental image of a world full of immortal wizards and witches.

"Probably." Harry agreed.

They lapsed into silence then, Harry settling back down against her chest as if to take a nap.

"So...immortality, huh?" She asked lightly after a long few minutes of comfortable silence.

"I just wanted magical batteries." Harry admitted.

"I figured." Tonks replied sarcastically. "Is this going to help you make them?"

"Yes." He nodded. "The Stone might be most famous for its ability to transmute other metals into gold and creating the Elixir of Life, but I bet it can do more than just that. A lot more. I'm pretty sure that it can transmute anything into anything and if it can distill something as ephemeral as raw life energy into stable liquid form, then it should be able to do the same with magic. I still need to learn more about chemistry myself before I can attempt creating Philosopher's Stone proper, but I know that I'm on the right track."

"Don't forget that we've got those ICW types coming over on the 1st." Tonks warned, knowing that it might slip his mind with a project like this to work on.

"Right, that." Harry muttered, sounding annoyed.

"You did finish preparing that spell you wanted to use, right?"

"...Almost."

"Well finish it, then you can play with the Philosopher's Stone."

"Yes, _Mum_."

"And don't sass me, young man. You're not too old for me to bend over my knee."

"That's more Luna and Septima's thing."

"Funny that you should mention Luna." Tonks began, pushing Harry to get up. "She's currently in bed with Fleur, where we should be as well."

"Ah." He winced. "It's that late already, is it?"

"Yes, and you've got some serius making up to do for doing this again after saying that you won't."

"Name your terms, woman."

"Well, there's this concert I wanted to go to and I could use some tough-looking male company..."

Harry groaned, which made Tonks smile. She knew that concerts didn't appeal to him at all, but he'd do it for her.

XXXXX

 _May 1st, 2018. Ravenhead, the Seeing Seat._

"They've arrived." Harry said, looking at the bright green names that designated visitors that hadn't signed the Book of Arrivals. Narcissa had gone to greet the ICW delegation with a special portkey that would let them skip that part. There was one somewhat surprising name among them. "Albus Dumbledore?"

"Figures that he'd invite himself along." Dora said with a frown. She was already in one of what she called her 'formal occasions forms'; taller, more beautiful and more regal than she preferred on a day-to-day basis, although the frequent shifting had the metamorphmagus treating her appearance much like a change of clothes nowadays.

"Does this change anything?" Fleur asked.

"No." Harry determined. "Even if he senses something, he won't say anything. He never does."

"Let's do it then!" Luna beamed.

"You are way too happy about this." Dora said wryly.

"I love having all three of you inside me." Luna replied simply.

"That part is nice." Dora conceded. "The rest of it not so much."

"Try to hold on to the good part." Harry advised, knowing that what they were doing would make it difficult to do so.

The girls all nodded and then all four of them cut both their palms on conveniently placed bits of sharpened metal.

Once that was done they all clasped hands in a circle and initiated a Spell Meld. The spell they were going to perform was intended to affect all of them and this was the best way to do it, not to mention that it was a bit complex for just one person to perform.

Harry took the lead in the crafting of the magic as he usually did and the girls kept its various components stable while he built new ones.

It took them nearly ten minutes to finish, time that Narcissa was buying them with a string of political courtesies.

" _Crown of Glory._ " Harry intoned once it was done.

" _Crown of Glory._ " The girls echoed, the spell spreading to all four of them.

The complex spell settled on them and within them, hidden beneath their auras and enhancing them. Harry had closely studied Fleur's veela Allure and its effects, as well as that odd spell Ophelia had over her bar, and produced the Crown of Glory from those studies, although the name and general idea of it had been shamelessly stolen from Dungeons & Dragons yet again.

The attention-drawing effects of Fleur's Allure spread to all four of them, but it was changed. A mien of terrible perfection and righteousness now radiated from them, altering the subconscious perceptions of all who looked upon them. Whatever the beholder found impressive about them would be magnified in their eyes and anything that would lower regard for them would be dimmed and more easily overlooked.

But the best part was that since the Crown of Glory was hidden inside their auras, it would be difficult even for the likes of Dumbledore to perceive the spell properly.

Harry wasn't willing to trust the outcome of this meeting to his artificial people skills, not on something that could cause them grief for years or decades afterwards if it went wrong. For all the training he'd had in politics and social graces, his natural inclinations were still decidedly anti-social and the ICW delegates weren't likely to be as easily handled as Fudge. The Crown of Glory brought his much more impressive skills as a wizard to bear against them.

Unfortunately, since the spell was nestled within their very being, it also had some side effects...

"This never gets any less weird." Dora said, clenching her fists and looking rather disgruntled.

"Having an ego this big is quite uncomfortable, it would be much better if everyone was like me." Luna agreed and then blinked. "Oh, that was pretty arrogant, wasn't it? Excuse me."

"You think you two have it bad?" Fleur asked sourly, but also with a certain haughty curl of her lip. "I want to make myself a throne and institute mandatory cunnilingus for petitioners."

Harry smiled at his veela lover with condescending amusement. As if he would ever let her slip the leash that much.

Harry frowned and shook the thought off. Troublesome spell. It would get worse, he knew. The effects of the Crown of Glory were cumulative and would continue building for as long as the spell was active. The process was slow, fortunately, but not negligible.

"Let's just get this over with, and keep a lid on your pride." He ordered, hiding a grimace when he saw Luna frown and Fleur and Dora bristle angrily at his tone before reigning it in. Worse still, his own temper simmered hypocritically at their reaction and he knew that it would be best if they limited interaction with each other until after this was over.

XXXXX

Albus was enjoying Narcissa's narrative on Spellhaven, it having changed quite a bit since his last visit, but he wondered at Harry's strategy. Sending his mistress to greet the ICW delegation instead of coming himself could be construed as an insult. Knowing his colleagues, it _had_ been taken as an insult. And they were already tetchy at having their summons refused. Surely Harry had not grown so arrogant as to think that the reputation he had in Britain would carry over internationally?

Perhaps it was merely the folly of youth? Albus still lamented that Harry had refused his overtures of tutoring in the realm of politics that he had jumped into with the Pettigrew debacle. It would have been a perfect opportunity to forge a mentor/student relationship with the younger wizard. Certainly, if this _was_ merely a mistake on Harry's part rather than a deliberate insult, it would not have happened with his tutelage.

But that was an opportunity lost and gone years ago and he had since then learned that Harry was too disdainful of authority for it to work as he'd envisioned anyway. The cold silver hand which had replaced the one that Harry had axed off served as a constant reminder that he would need to treat him as an equal. He often found it hard to do that after seeing people grow from tiny eleven-year-olds into adults, but Harry had certainly gone far since then, further than any of his former students in fact. Further even than Tom Riddle in many ways.

That was part of the reason that he was here actually. He didn't have to be. Indeed, his position as Harry's former headmaster might call his objectivity into question. Rightfully so, as he was here more to make sure that ICW politicking didn't get in the way of Harry fulfilling the prophecy and vanquishing Voldemort than he was to represent ICW interests. There had been grumbling at his unilateral decision to include himself in this, but he was still the Supreme Mugwump and could make such decisions. It would cost him some political capital in the future though.

Narcissa's delaying tactic – and Albus did recognise it as such– eventually ran its course and they were led towards the Potter residence on Spellhaven.

The room chosen for this meeting was fairly simple, tastefully decorated but boasting little in the way of furniture aside from the table and the chairs at which they were to sit.

Four of those chairs were considerably more impressive than the rest and were already occupied by Harry and his girlfriends.

Nymphadora Tonks sat to his right and Fleur Delacour to his left, while young Luna Lovegood sat on Ms. Delacour's other side. Oddly enough, they all had their hands clasped together on the armrests of their chairs. A gesture of support for each other or a show of unity? Albus couldn't tell.

Either way, they looked almost like a king and his queens awaiting the approach of supplicants. A sense of power and majesty radiated from them that dominated the room.

Albus hid a small frown as he hardened his magic against external influence and the niggling sense being in the presence of his betters dissipated. There was more going on here than met the eye. The feel of their maigc was...not wrong exactly, but definitely not natural.

Harry's eyes flicked towards him and a miniscule smirk crossed his lips. A brief burst of Legilimency carried a definite sense of smugness.

 _What have you done, Harry?_ He queried with a return burst of Legilimency.

 _We're cheating. Can't you tell?_

 _This was meant to be a discussion in good faith._

 _No such thing when dealing with politicians._

Albus hid another frown at his former student's cynicism. Harry always expected the worst of people.

"The ICW delegation, my lord." Narcissa said formally, putting an end to the brief exchange.

"Thank you, Cissy. That will be all." Harry acknowledged and dismissed.

Albus could swear he saw Narcissa giving Harry bedroom eyes as she left the room.

"I am Harry James Potter, Lord of Spellhaven and I speak for the group. With me are my companions, Nymphadora Tonks, Fleur Delacour and Luna Lovegood, without whom this island would not be what it is today." Harry began once the door clicked closed behind the former Mrs. Malfoy, indicating each of the women as he spoke their names. "Supreme Mugwump Dumbledore I already know, so if he would be so kind as to introduce the rest of you...?"

"Of course, Harry." Albus said, making a minor breach of protocol by being so familiar, something that he knew his compatriots would take note of. He often made such small breaches in protocol with people he knew so as to keep these proceedings a bit less stuffy.

He nodded towards the only female in their group as he began speaking. "The North American representative, Mugwump Gwendolyn Winters."

Albus felt more than saw the irritation of the woman in question at her title, which he knew she considered to be stupid-sounding and undignified... or perhaps she objected more to its British origins. The ICW had been founded centuries ago, in a time when Magical Britain had been at the height of its power. It was a frequent proposal put forward by more than just the Americans to restructure it, but the British delegate always blocked such proposals. Not that anyone could agree on the details of such a restructuring anyway.

"I greet you in the name of the magi of North America." Gwendolyin said formally, her ice-blue eyes were fixed on Harry's with such intensity that Albus would take it for attraction if he didn't know better.

"Be welcome and find succor in our lands and home, Mugwump Winters." Harry smiled and replied just as formally, initiating the ancient pact of hospitality that carried with it the promise that there would be no hostile action taken on the part of either guest or host. A somewhat outdated custom, but still very relevant when dealing with powerful wizards and witches that had never met before.

"I am in your care, Lord Potter." The American witch completed the pact with the modern, abbreviated words of acceptance. The archaic original phrase was a good deal more long-winded and not entirely contextually appropriate these days.

Much to Albus' well-hidden shock, she actually _smiled back_ as she said this. It wasn't necessarily a friendly expression, but it was definitely respectful. If he hadn't already known that Harry was doing something, he would have been suspicious on account of that alone.

Gwendolyn Winters was a tall witch in her sixties with pale skin, fine-boned features and silver-streaked auburn hair. She carried her years with such dignity and grace that the small wrinkles on her face only enhanced her good looks and had a spine so straight that even Minerva would be impressed. The concept of a 'handsome woman' might have fallen out of use in recent decades, but to Albus she exemplified the term.

The reason for his shock was that her last name was most apt. The Americans, both North and South, had a longstanding habit of never appointing anyone even remotely soft as their representative to the ICW due to the equally longstanding tension between the American and European magical realms. Winters was a perfect example of this, being a most formidable political adversary and not the type that was easily impressed. Her presence invariably meant trouble for someone, now it was just a matter of figuring out for who.

"The German representative, Mugwump Dietrich Hildebrand." Albus continued.

A wizard in his late eighties with a short white beard and a bit of a potbelly, the jovial and unthreatening Hildebrand was a stark contrast to the severe countenance of Winters. Albus knew that he was here on account of his ability to make friends.

That had perhaps not been the best of choices for the ICW, as Albus could see that he was already falling under the effects of whatever magic Harry and his girlfriends had worked.

"I greet you in the name of the wizards and witches of Germany."

"Be welcome and find succor in our lands and home, Mugwump Hildebrand."

"I am in your care, Lord Potter. And might I say that it is a true pleasure to meet such an outstanding group of magicals." Dietrich enthused jovially, drawing some askance looks from the others at his minor breach of conduct.

Harry looked as if he was about to reply when Ms. Delacour broke in, giving Hildebrand a half-lidded look of satisfaction. "The pleasure is all _ours_ , Mugwump Hildebrand." The magic he sensed in the air almost seemed to...purr?...with approval.

Albus did not miss the way that Harry and Luna's grips tightened on the veela's hands, nor how the magic suffocating the room lost some of its cloying sweetness and spiked with frustration in response. Something to keep an eye on.

"The French representative, Mugwump Gaston Auger."

A wizard slightly older than Albus himself, Gaston was in fact the longest serving member of the ICW, having become the French representative on it back in 1932. Albus had worked with him against Grindelwald towards the end of World War II.

He and Dietrich were no doubt here to incorporate Spellhaven into the status quo, something that Albus doubted would be met with enthusiasm by Harry given what he knew of him.

The customary greetings passed without issue at least, although Albus noted that Gaston's greeting was a bit more deferential than normal for the old French wizard.

"The Indian representative, Mugwump Arun Nayar."

Albus didn't know this one as well as he probably should, wasn't even sure about his age aside from guessing him to be somewhere around seventy. He was a relatively recent addition to the ICW and a quiet one as well, seemingly more concerned with helping his nation penetrate the European trade market than anything else.

He and Winters had collaborated to ensure that they were both present for this meeting, which was part of the reason that it had taken so long for the ICW to get moving at all.

Albus sometimes despaired at how appropriate the term 'herding cats' was when talking about the ICW. Everyone wanted to go their own way.

"I greet you in the name of the wizards and witches of India."

"Be welcome and find succor in our lands and home, Mugwump Nayar."

"I am honored to accept the protection and hospitality of yourself and your lovely consorts, Lord Potter." Arun apparently decided to make a similar minor breach of conduct as Dietrich had, giving the three young women an admiring glance.

Albus knew immediately that this was a poor choice of words on the part of his colleague, and it was just because the air suddenly thickened with displeasure.

"All four of us sit here as equals, Mugwump Nayar." Nymphadora rebuked sharply, glaring at the Indian wizard with eyes that bled into an angry orange.

"I'm sure that wasn't what Mugwump Nayar meant." Harry intervened, giving the metamorphmagus' hand a firm squeeze. Then he turned his eyes on the wizard in question. "Right?"

"Of course, I meant no disrespect. My apologies for my poorly chosen words." Arun was quick to backpedal, looking distinctly embarassed and even a little afraid. The presence in the air calmed again and Nymphadora's eyes faded back to their previous vibrant purple.

"And finally the representative from Gringotts Britain, Negotiator Boneflay."

Goblins tended to be very to-the-point with their titles, as they were with everything else.

"Spare me your greetings, _wizard_ , and let us get to work." Boneflay sneered, baring his pointy teeth. A grievous insult in goblin culture.

Albus resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. Goblins and their arrogance... He hoped that Boneflay didn't run afoul Harry's anger now that he had refused guest protection. There would be no protecting him if he did.

"As you wish, _goblin._ " Harry sneered back with just as much hostility, making a return show of teeth that probably meant he knew exactly how insulting the gesture was.

"Please sit down, everyone." Young Ms. Lovegood said in a jarringly friendly manner after the exchange between Harry and Boneflay.

Albus wanted to give ten points to Ravenclaw for that diplomatic statement.

XXXXX

Harry gave a small look of approval as the ICW delegates and the goblin sat down, hiding his true, less than charitable, feelings.

That was a task made more difficult while under the effects of the Crown of Glory, but he could manage. As long as he kept hold on the sliver of Dark that sat in his mind like a block of ice, his ego would be held in check. Pride was nothing in the face of Dark.

The girls did not have that advantage.

Luna was the least affected thanks to her complete lack of conceit. While a bit more opinionated when under the effects of the Crown of Glory, she was still more pleasant than most people were normally. She would be a calming influence, as always.

Dora was more problematic. As playful as she could be, she was also a proud witch with a wicked temper that had been Mad-Eye Moody's protégé and joined the Auror Corps on her own merit. Normally a very easy-going sort, she was quick to take offense and lash out at any disrespect shown to her while under the Crown of Glory, as the Indian ICW representative had learned.

The worst of the four, Fleur was a serious problem. Prideful and vain as all veela were, the Crown of Glory turned her into a proper nightmare. She could barely tolerate the thought that there were wizards and witches that did not fawn over her. He and Luna were sitting on either side of her, using their own auras to sooth her. The only thing keeping her from flying into a rage at the thought that she needed to be kept in check was the fact that she herself had agreed to this measure before the Crown of Glory was cast and the very pride that fed her outrage would not allow her to break her word.

With all the problems that the Crown of Glory caused, one would be forgiven for thinking that it was more trouble than it was worth. For day-to-day use they'd be right, but for special occasions it was worth it.

Harry could already see the effects of the spell taking root in the visitors.

One of the most basic functions of any remotely sentient creature was threat assessment. A subset of this function was the assessment of one's own species to determine social pecking order, mating potential and countless other things. Humans were no different from any other animal in this. The conscious mind could override these instinctive impressions of course, but they would always be there.

All of the delegates aside from Dumbledore and Boneflay were showing the signs of knowing that they were in the presence of superior examples of their own species, although they were trying to hide it. Their instinct would be to submit rather than to fight and that was no small thing even if it was subconscious. This was compunded by the purely animal attraction that inevitably also appeared in such situations. Even if all these people were far past the point of being influenced by their hormones to any significant degree, the instinctive search for a worthy mate wasn't something that could be turned off.

The German, Hildebrand, was the weakest of the group and had already lost the game. His friendly demeanour was poorly suited for resisting the Crown of Glory even if he wasn't a spineless worm like Fudge. Fear of Harry himself and attraction to the girls would make him pliable.

Nayar was stronger, but was off balance and uncertain of himself due to the rebuke he'd received. He would not be eager to make another blunder. Harry felt oddly grateful for the misogyny in India that had allowed that faux pas to happen. It wasn't as bad as in the mundane part of its culture, but it was there.

Bit of an odd situation actually. Harry's plans to travel there had been scuppered by Voldemort's resurrection, so he didn't have first-hand knowledge but some things were easy enough to deduce even from less reliable sources. While he had no real idea what the situation on gender equality had been among India's magical population before the arrival of the European wizards and their 'our way is the only way' attitude, he _did_ know that the heavy-handed approach of the ICW war wizards had left a big mess in the ancient nation. Similar to what had happened in America, quite a bit of the mundane parts of India's culture had bled through while the new order was being established, including a condescending attitude towards women if that hadn't been part of things already. That attitude persisted to this day, although time had blunted it somewhat as the world slowly moved past that bit of idiocy.

Admittedly, there was also the off chance that Nayar genuinely hadn't meant to imply that the girls were in any way inferior to him. Harry _was_ speaking for the group after all and he _had_ implied that he was the primary authority on the island in order to perpetuate the lie that it was an ancient holding of House Black. Plus, the man was an experienced politician and should know better. It didn't really matter, as Dora and Fleur were both seething with resentment about that little deception already, even if they had agreed to it beforehand. They were pretty much looking for an excuse to be angry.

Auger would be a more of a problem. His extreme age was actually an advantage in this case. Not only was his libido likely to be close to dead, but very old people also tended to have a very condescending view of those much younger than them. The latter was a problem with the others as well, but much more so with the French wizard. Still, neither age nor lack of libido would allow Auger to escape the effects of the Crown of Glory.

Winters would be the one with which the most care had to be taken. She was a powerful witch, with a presence nearly as profound as that of Amelia Bones, a particularly impressive feat for a politician even if her talents were less combative. Harry could also easily tell that her skill in Occlumency was the best of the delegation save for Dumbledore's. It would be unwise to rely on the Crown of Glory alone to get what he wanted from her.

Fortunately she was American. All of them might be dressed in the same ornate ceremonial robes worn by senior members of the ICW, but there was an almost palpable distance between Winters and the others. That could and would be exploited.

Although the fact that she was American could have unforeseen problems... That magical community was rather prudish and Harry got the feeling that Winters didn't approve of anything outside of a traditional, monogamous man-woman relationship. Still, she seemed smart enough to keep her opinions on that score to herself, so even if she was an uptight prude like he suspected she probably wouldn't let it affect her professionalism.

Boneflay was even more obviously a separate entity than Winters, but that was to be expected given that he was a goblin. The Crown of Glory wouldn't be effective on him, except maybe to broadcast that they were a dangerous threat if roused. Harry didn't know enough about the goblin psyche to really guess at any possible effects.

"So, what can Spellhaven do for the ICW?" Harry asked.

There was a brief, almost uncomfortable, pause before Dumbledore replied. "As you likely know, one of the ICW's duties is to mediate disputes between its constituents."

"Spellhaven is not an ICW constituent." Harry asserted calmly, undercutting whatever Dumbledore was about to say.

"Are you not a citizen of Magical Britain?" Hildebrand inquired in a tone of polite confusion.

Harry felt the two women flanking him bristle with indignant anger at the implication that only he mattered, even though that was the damn plan they had agreed to. He and Luna had to work hard to calm them down and it was likely that Hildebrand's sudden skittishness as he subconsciously registered the danger appeased them just as much if not more.

"That has no bearing on this discussion." He replied, keeping his own feelings tightly leashed. It was time for some lies. "This island was claimed by House Black in the early years of the 15th century, long before the founding of either the British Ministry of Magic or the Wizengamot. It was never part of Magical Britain's domain or that of any other, be it mundane or magical."

"But the Blacks are British magical nobility and one of the founding pillars of the British Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot." Hildebrand said with a frown. "Surely that makes Spellhaven beholden to the British Ministry of Magic?"

"I am afraid not." Dumbledore of all people countered. "The wording of the agreement specifically stated that only lands held on the British Isles would be part of Magical Britain's domain. Several other families have or used to have similar private retreats outside of Britain."

Harry knew that. It was the whole reason they were using this lie. He sometimes wondered how much of the world was hidden under privacy spells. Quite a lot of these old private retreats had been on the mainland and seized when the local wizards had formed their own governments, but some of them were probably still out there. Might be an interesting little mini quest to track these places down and take them for himself one day.

"A vacation home is one thing, but we are talking about hundreds of witches and wizards here." Auger protested.

"I fail to see how the number of residents matters." Harry replied with a careless shrug.

"It matters because all of those people are citizens of other magical nations and are now living permanently on your island." The French wizard insisted. "They cannot be left in some undefined legal limbo, so it is important that we determine under whose jurisdiction Spellhaven falls."

"That much is simple; it falls under _our_ jurisdiction." Harry replied firmly.

His decision to say 'our' instead of 'my' as had been his first impulse was met with firm agreement by the girls and their combined conviction left Auger too intimidated to reply.

"Then it is your intention to declare the island of Spellhaven an independent magical realm?" Winters leaned forward slightly in her seat as she broke in, her ice-blue eyes gleaming with triumph.

Harry stared the American witch in the eye, wishing that he could drag her off somewhere and fuck that look off her face. Not even for her physical appeal, although Winters did look exceptional for a woman of her age, but simply for the pleasure of asserting his superiority over her.

Even though he was consciously aware that the desires currently percolating in his head were way past the border of socially acceptable behavior, he was finding it hard to care. One of the pitfalls of using a spell that made you feel like the most important thing ever when you already had a very low capacity for empathy. These impulses were familiar, they had been developing and evolving ever since the first time he had taken a knife to his flesh and permanently altered how his body worked. His testosterone levels, which he was sure were already obscenely high normally, must be completely through the roof right now.

Dora's hand tightened painfully on his own and her magic bristled dangerously against his senses. It irritated him to do so, but he complied with the warning and turned his thoughts elsewhere. All four of them had sworn that they would heed such warnings, their first experiment with the Crown of Glory demonstrating clearly that they couldn't trust their own judgement while under its effects.

Still, at least he had the satisfaction of seeing the sudden nervousness in the American witch's eyes.

But it was time to answer the question, not silently gloat. "Yes, that is exactly our intention."

It was a shame really. Harry had not wanted to do this, but politicians were always obsessed with a little thing called 'legitimacy', at least in public. It was such a stupid thing to his thinking, but giving Spellhaven status as a legitimate magical realm in its own right would make it more difficult for anyone looking to mount some kind of crusade against it.

Now it was just a matter of convincing this bunch that it was for the best, which was looking doable if the reactions from his guests were anything to go by...

Auger and Hildebrand more than a little displeased, Dumbledore was doing his serene omniscent act and Boneflay merely looked annoyed and impatient, which was the default setting for goblins from what he knew of them. Winters and even Nayar, on the other hand, were looking a bit smug. Definitely plotting something.

"This is absurd." Auger grumbled once he'd recovered the use of his wits. "Are we to allow anyone with a bit of land to their name to declare themselves an independent country now?"

"You don't have the authority to allow or deny anything in this matter." Harry retorted, his limited supply of patience exhausted by the French wizard's constant attempts at asserting some kind of authority over Spellhaven.

The very old man recoiled at the sharp rebuke and Harry knew that he had blundered even if that had been very satisfying. Narcissa had lectured him more than once that the one who initiated hostility was often the one on the losing end of a dipomatic discussion. Damage control it was then.

"Would you like to know why Spellhaven was made?" He asked.

They all looked varying levels of interested, except the goblin, who still looked grumpy and impatient.

"I don't like modern magical society, not in Britain and not anywhere else." He began. "All the bureaucracy, the laws, the regulations... I can't help but wonder, why are you trying so hard to take the magic out of magic?"

Now they all looked baffled, clearly not understanding what he was getting at. Typical politicians, although there was a glimmer of understanding and worry in Dumbledore's eyes.

"What do you mean?" Auger inquired, actually contriving to sound a bit offended. "We have always worked to preserve the magical world."

Clueless idiot missed the point completely, but Harry supposed that it was only to be expected. Old people were notoriously inflexible, even in their thoughts. Perhaps especially in their thoughts.

"Tell me why politicians impose so many restrictions on magic." Harry near-commanded, catching himself barely in time to make it seem at least vaguely like a request.

"To protect people." Auger said with a small frown, clearly unsure where this was going. "Some magics are harmful or simply not safe to use."

"Magic is not meant to be _safe_." Harry replied with an annoyed sigh. "Magic is meant to be a thing of wonder and mystery that can and should kill you if approached carelessly. It should reward the exceptional, not give the mediocre an underserved sense of importance. Attempting to regulate it has created a society that treats magic like a commodity."

"What does this have to do with why you've created Spellhaven." Winters asked before anyone could offer a protest.

"It's quite simple really." Harry answered calmly. "I want you to know that I understand that the ultimate duty of government is ostensibly to protect the citizens under their purview and that lawmakers feel obligated to restrict the use of anything dangerous in pursuit of this goal. I understand that the average person craves stability and safety. I understand that powerful wizards and witches are a threat to that stability."

He paused for dramatic effect, momentarily reveling in their literally spellbound attention.

"I understand it, but I don't respect it. In my opinion, people could do with being a little less safe and a little more self-reliant. What is the point of even having magic if all the possibilities it offers are being controlled by petty bureaucrats? The magical world has become stagnant and dull because wizards that know nothing of magic are trying to control it. I will not be controlled."

Another dramatic pause and his audience was somewhat alarmed now. Excellent.

"Obviously, I don't fit in with the way things are done in this day and age. I tried politics back in Britain and found myself contemplating if becoming a dark lord was really such a bad idea. Because I am not an idiot, it was easy to deduce that it was, in fact, a bad idea and wouldn't get me what I want anyway, which brings us to Spellhaven."

That should serve as sufficient warning that provoking him would have unpleasant consequences. Dumbledore was certainly looking amusingly worried.

"Instead of complaining impotently or attempting to conquer a country to force my views on, the idea of Spellhaven was conceived. When we found this island, it was little more than a barren, uninhabitable hunk of volcanic rock that House Black had apparently deemed worthless and forgotten about centuries ago, but the four of us saw the potential in it. Our business ventures were growing at an exponential rate, so much so that we were running into logistical issues with the number of employees and their families suddenly in our care. Not only that, but we were also having more trouble abiding by Magical Britain's laws by the day. A large private island was an ideal solution to both problems. The immmigration requests from others came as a surprise, but we had no cause to refuse them."

Harry paused again and briefly ran his eyes over the delegates. "In short, Spellhaven was made to accomodate our growing business empire and more importantly, to remove ourselves from a society that would have branded me at the very least a dark wizard before long."

"Was it really so terrible, Harry?" Dumbledore asked softly.

"Yes." He answered simply. "You of all people should know what it's like to be a powerful wizard surrounded by mediocrity. Spellhaven is our sanctuary just like Hogwarts is yours and outside interference would run counter to its purpose."

Harry had initially wanted to avoid making these sorts of implied threats, but no matter how he looked at it, they'd never be left in peace without them. Politicians were simply too dumb to leave well enough alone. That was also one of the reasons why the Crown of Glory was being used.

Once again, he had the full support and agreement of all three girls. Their combined strength smothered the room, causing Dumbledore's eyes to go wide and the others to suddenly give off the impression of frightened deer.

"Albus, what does he mean?" Hildebrand asked, his tone hushed, wary and confused.

"It is difficult for the powerful to accept the authority of others." Dumbledore answered softly and looked over at the four of them. "Some cannot tolerate it at all."

And that really was the crux of it. Harry had never been able to fit in with his classmates in Hogwarts because he was so much more than them and he knew it. He couldn't conform to a society of wizards and witches content to wallow in their mediocrity when he could literally _feel_ how inferior they were to him.

That was part of the price that the powerful paid for their strength. It was so very hard pretend you weren't chafed by the limitations that the fearful, the weak and the ignorant would place on you and it kept getting harder as your strength grew while everyone else stayed stagnant.

Harry didn't believe that power corrupted so much as it liberated, but a person that felt free to act without fear of consequences was no less frightening than a corrupt one.

Magic exacerbated the problem exponentially. After all, why should a powerful wizard conform if he felt strong enough to challenge the government all by himself? Harry had seen it in himself, in the way he felt less and less need to be subtle when he could simply command and be obeyed instead. He had seen it in his girls as they shrugged off the limitations of society and it was beautiful to watch happen.

But it was a problem. A flock of sheep could never rest easy with a pack of wolves among them, even if the wolves weren't hungry.

Dumbledore had experienced it decades ago. People had feared him as much as they revered him and dealt with it by heaping all sorts of honors and responsibilities on him, desperately trying to make him one of 'them'. The sheep probably didn't even realise what they were doing, probably didn't even realise that they were afraid. Nowadays the old man spent his time hiding in Hogwarts and only leaving it when he really had to.

Better to make their own place in the world than wait for it all to go pear-shaped. Most dark lords or dark ladies weren't psychopaths, but simply wizards and witches that had outgrown the system they were born into. True, they usually broke the law or went against social norms, but so what? It was a good bet that less than a quarter of history's dark lords were actually psychos like Voldemort, with the others just labeled that way to justify getting rid of them when they started doing their own thing.

He was brought out of his brief period of wool-gathering when Auger spoke up again.

"What about your seats on the British Wizengamot and the lordship of the Potter and Black families?" he asked. "You cannot be part of Magical Britain's judicial system if your loyalties are to Spellhaven."

That was _almost_ true.

"If the Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot require me to choose between the two, then the Houses of Potter and Black will go into dormancy until one of my descendants decides to take up their mantle again."

Harry didn't really expect that to happen. Fudge and the worms in the Wizengamot would probably enjoy the reflected glory too much unless he started using those positions as leverage to make Magical Britain act in Spellhaven's benefit.

Auger looked unhappy at the reply but grundgingly conceded defeat. "I suppose we could acknowledge Spellhaven as a separate entity under the ICW and its guidelines."

Harry's temper flared again. The old fucker clearly had selective hearing.

"What makes you think we want to be part of the ICW?" He asked as neutrally as he could manage, but the room temperature still plummeted noticeably.

"But..." Auger spluttered, either from surprise at the rebuttal or from the effects of the Crown of Glory.

"Harry, the ICW would not infringe on how you run things on Spellhaven." Dumbledore came to the rescue. "it is merely an organisation that promotes cooperation between the world's magical nations. Surely you agree that it is better to work together than to isolate ourselves?"

Harry pretended to think it over. In truth, he'd known that he couldn't just tell the ICW to fuck off and leave them alone. Spellhaven didn't exist in a vacuum and he couldn't act like it did, not without causing himself an unacceptable amount of trouble later on at any rate.

But he had to be obstinate about it to make it clear that the ICW would have no say in Spellhaven's internal affairs, which was no doubt what Hildebrand and Auger – and probably the goblin too now that he thought about it – wanted. Unlike its mundane counterpart, the UN, the ICW had a lot more power over its constituents. Not _official_ power, but it could exert significant pressure indirectly.

"Before anything more is said on this matter, I will remind you once more why Spellhaven was made – a place where magic may be practiced without the constraints of law. There are no restriction on what kind of magic may be used here, up to and including the Unforgivables or anything else that might be deemed illegal elsewhere. Similarly, there is no such thing as illegal enchantments or banned magical items. Anything may be made and sold here. Anyone stirring trouble or doing harm to the people living here will be dealt with, but for the harm itself and not because of the means that were used to do it. Any dabbling in things that could cause harm to more than just the dabbler will be monitored of course, but we will not protect people from their own carelessness. On this point, we will not be moved."

Harry once again enjoyed the full support of his girls and together they made any protest from the delegation die stillborn, their combined strength far too great to be contested.

"That sounds fair." Winters said while Hildebrand and Auger were furiously thinking of a way to respond that didn't involve actually crossing the line in the sand he'd just drawn. "And I am certain that my counterpart from South America will agree."

"Spellhaven is of your making and the ICW has no right to dictate how you run it." Nayar added with a smile.

"I find myself in agreement with my colleagues." Dumbledore said, ignoring the betrayed looks from Auger and Hildebrand. "Much as I worry about the results your policies might bring, it cannot be denied that this is your place and the people are here of their own free will. Do you perhaps already have someone in mind to represent Spellhaven in the ICW?"

Will wonders never cease, Dumbledore had learned how to tone down the condescension? Maybe the chewing out he'd received the last time he'd been on Spellhaven had gotten through to him.

"I do." Harry nodded. "Narcissa Black has proven herself well suited to the task and is trusted to act as our voice."

Narcissa would be thrilled by the appointment no doubt, even if 'Mugwump Black' sounded unforgivably stupid. She had acquited herself well back in Britain, handling the vast majority of the background maneuvering that he didn't have the patience for, as well as handling the fallout of their departure from that country.

But her skills had been a bit under-utilised lately. Spellhaven required much less politicking than Britain and Harry knew that Narcissa missed playing those games. Giving her a position where she could do her thing on the international stage should be right up her alley and she'd be looking out for his interests while doing it.

Yes, Narcissa was a good choice for the job. Inexperienced in international politics, but she undoubtedly had more raw talent for it then he ever would. She'd learn quickly and had access to enough money to buy herself a tutor or assisstant if she felt the need. Harry was kind of looking forward to fucking her in one of those silly ornate robes.

"Very well." Dumbledore nodded. "Then all that remains is for you to sign the ICW charter."

"And here we encounter a problem." Harry said mildly. "You see, signing the ICW charter as it is now would immediately infringe on Spellhaven's internal affairs and violate the terms of the agreement we just made."

"How so?" Dumbledore asked cordially.

"The treaty signed in 1726 between the Goblin Nation and the International Confederation of Wizards is part of the charter and stipulates that the Goblin Nation will maintain a branch of Gringotts Bank in every ICW member nation, both as a financial institution and as an embassy."

Harry paused for a moment, taking note of Boneflay's rising fury. Oh yes, the silly little midget knew what was coming.

"Goblins maintain that any land upon which a branch of Gringotts sits is sovereign territory of the Goblin Nation. This is unacceptable. All land on Spellhaven belongs to us and we will not give even a fistful of it to the goblins."

"Harry, embassies are necessary for maintaining diplomatic contact between nations." Dumbledore attempted to mediate before Boneflay could say something rash.

"Embassies do not require the land they sit on to be given over to the guest nation." Winters torpedoed the Supreme Mugwump's efforts.

"That would subject my people to the laws of wizards!" Boneflay retorted. "No goblin will ever tolerate that."

"Then stay in your holes and stop bothering us." Winters shot back.

"Watch yourself, _witch_." The goblin growled threateningly.

"Negotiator Boneflay." Harry said so coldly that a literal chill breeze passed through the room. "I will remind you that Mugwump Winters is a guest in our home and we are obligated to protect her from both harm and insult. Mind your tone."

"Typical wizard." Boneflay said bitterly. "You say nothing when she insults my people but jump to her defense in an instant."

"It was _you_ who refused our hospitality." Harry shot him down icily. "Do not complain about not having it now."

"Perhaps we should get back to the matter at hand?" Dumbledore suggested diplomatically, clearly wanting to move past this.

"Yes, we should." Harry nodded. "In addition to not allowing a goblin presence on the island, we will also not give Gringotts Bank exclusive rights to the management of Spellhaven's finances."

"You may say that, but you are still citizens of Magical Britain and Magical France." Boneflay interjected with a malicious grin.

"What's your point?" Harry asked in a bored tone that clearly projected just how few shits he gave.

"You are still bound by treaty to conduct your finances exclusively through Gringotts, a treaty that you have been violating for months now." The goblin growled.

"Untrue. All of our business ventures are based on Spellhaven, which is not bound by that treaty and therefore cannot be in violation of it."

"That is nothing but a technicality!" Boneflay snapped.

"What is a treaty if not a list of technicalities?" Harry responded whimsically, enjoying the cement mixer sound of fury that the goblin made in response.

"Perhaps we could make some kind of compromise?" Hildebrand asked hopefully.

Harry was fed up with this conversation.

"That I am even entertaining the idea of associating Spellhaven with the ICW is already a compromise and it took a great deal of effort to convince me to do even that much." He said firmly. "I have named my terms and will not be swayed from them. Either accept them or do not."

"Lord Potter has shown nothing but grace and honor in removing himself from a situation that he knew would eventually put him at odds with his homeland's laws." Winters spoke up after a moment. "The magi of North and South America will accept those terms."

"As will the wizards and witches of India." Nayar added.

Harry acknowledged their support with a nod. Of course, he didn't delude himself into thinking that they were supporting his position because they thought it was the right thing to do. No, they were doing it because it would benefit their respective nations.

What a pain... He wished he could just kill them all and be done with it. Yet more proof that most dark lords simply had enough of dealing with other people's shit rather than being 'evil'.

Maybe a few years or decades down the line, he'd have a good excuse to destroy the ICW?

The thought of casting Abi-Dalzim's Horrid Wilting in a room full of politicians cheered him up.

Auger and Hildebrand looked uncomfortable, but didn't seem eager to voice their opposition. Score one for the Crown of Glory.

"We will of course need to bring this before the full assembly of mugwumps before a decision is made." Dumbledore sounded tired.

"Gringotts will never support this!" Boneflay snarled and stomped out of the room.

Fucking goblins.

"Before you go, there is one more thing I feel I should mention." Harry said before the others could get up.

They all looked at him curiously.

"No doubt you are all aware of Britain's little Dark Lord problem recently." He said, getting bemused nods from everyone except Dumbledore. "After we gave him a bloody nose back in August, Voldemort has been recruiting heavily across various locales all over Europe. I have so far spied his followers in several locations across Europe."

"How?" Auger asked with a faintly accusatory tone.

"I have my ways." Harry replied unhelpfully. "My point is that he will eventually stop recruiting and restart his attempts to conquer the world. Since we are to be allies, we are offering to take care of Voldemort for the ICW."

The original plan may have been to essentially blackmail the ICW with the threat of Voldemort, but blackmail only worked as long as you had it. Frame it as one ally helping another though...well, it wouldn't look good if you turned on someone that handled a dark lord for you now would it?

Of course, none of them would believe that he was actually doing it out of the goodness of his heart, but that didn't matter. It was all about appearances.

Fucking politics.

"That is most gracious of you." Dumbledore said with a commendably straight face. The old man knew better than anyone that he wasn't doing it for free. "What can the ICW do to help you in this?"

"Mostly we'd just need official sanction to act within the borders of whatever country Voldemort and his minions are in." Harry answered.

"Is that really necessary?" Auger asked skeptically. "Surely our Aurors could handle it."

Harry resisted the urge to snort. Fleur and Dora didn't.

At a certain level of power, even weight of numbers didn't work anymore. There were only so many wizards that could fight together against one without getting in each other's way.

"No, Gaston, I am afraid that the Aurors could not match the likes of Voldemort." Dumbledore answered solemnly. "Even I am not certain if I could win against him now. Harry may be the only wizard currently alive that is able to defeat him."

With the Crown of Glory inflating his ego, Harry merely nodded at this. It sounded like the truth, even though he was intellectually aware that he was likely not on even footing with Voldemort as far as combat was concerned.

"I will pass it along to my government." Auger said a bit stiffly.

The others said much the same and then got up.

Winters and Nayar both requested to speak further on matters of trade at a later date during the walk outside, which Harry knew was going to be the manner of payment for their support. That was fine, it wasn't like money was going to be an issue for much longer with a Philosopher's Stone in the near future.

Once they were all gone, the four of them dispersed without so much as looking at each other.

They had learned their lesson about that the first time they'd used the Crown of Glory. It was manageable as long as they had an outside enemy to focus on, but without it...well, Harry and Fleur had both been hatching plans on fucking the other three into submission whether they were willing or not, which would have spurred Dora into potentially lethal retaliation.

Luna had doused them all with freezing cold water and shooed them off, which had probably saved their relationship and maybe even a few lives.

After that near disaster, they had all agreed to find their own ways to blow off steam while the Crown of Glory's side-effects wore off.

Harry was fortunate in that he knew a woman that wouldn't mind if he was more forceful than normal. Indeed, she actually enjoyed it.

XXXXX

Septima braced herself on shaky arms as Harry thrust into her arse with an almost violent energy. Her breath came in pants and her whole body glowed with a sheen of sweat that gave mute testimony to her exhaustion. The only thing keeping her from collapsing face first into the bed was the collar around her neck, the chain of which was pulled taut in Harry's fist and had no give in it.

He had stormed into her office earlier in the day with the kind of look on his face that instantly had her gushing like a fountain. When he'd wordlessly grabbed her and apparated them to a bedroom, she'd already been halfway to orgasm.

That was an indeterminate number of hours ago and Harry had since then used her body like he owned it. Septima had enjoyed every second of it of course, but she didn't know if she could take much more of this.

"Are you dozing off down there, slut?" Harry demanded, punctuating his question with a hard slap to her left buttock.

Septima cried out at the sudden stinging pain.

Another slap came when she didn't answer immediately. "I asked you a question!"

"No!" Septima quickly assured, even though the pain felt good. She was far too tired to be deliberately disobedient in the hopes of getting punished some more.

"Then why does it feel like I'm fucking a cave back here?" Another slap accompanied the question. "I told you to keep your arse clenched tight!"

"I'm sorry. I can't!" Septima cried out apologetically. She really wanted to obey, but she was shaking with just the effort of staying on her elbows and knees, nevermind keeping her bowels clenched so that Harry could properly enjoy her.

The chain of her collar was pulled, forcing her upright on her knees. The collar was enchanted to distribute the force evenly around its circumference, so instead of digging into her throat, it merely tightened for the most part even as she was dragged back. Her vision swam as her breathing and blood flow was restricted.

Then Harry stuck the middle and ring finger of his left hand into her soaking sex and used the new handhold to keep her upright so that he didn't lose access to her arse.

"I didn't ask if you can, I told you to do it." He said directly into her ear, now penetrating both of her holes.

Septima obeyed without thought, struggling to clench her pelvic muscles as hard as she could despite the way her body was shaking from exhaustion. She was feeling quite loopy from both the rapid approach of another orgasm at the rough treatment and the constricting effects of the collar.

"That's better." Harry grunted into her ear, increasing the pace of his thrusting. "Just keep that up."

Knowing that he was close and wanting to experience release with him, Septima pinched her own nipples harshly and gave a shudddering cry as the pain set off her orgasm. The sensation was made even better when Harry grunted in pleasure and started filling up her bowels with his seed.

The fingers were removed and the collar loosened around her neck, sending a disorienting rush of blood to her brain and allowing Septima to collapse with a gasp of relief. She paid no mind to Harry's manhood as it easily slipped out of her ravaged anus, and dearly hoped that he didn't want to go again, because she was _done_.

Two fingers were pressed against her mouth and Septima started sucking on them automatically, tasting both herself and a trace of one of Harry's previous releases on them.

Once they were clean, he separated from her and laid down on the bed, tugging gently on her collar as he did so. Knowing what that meant, Septima smiled tiredly and turned to clean his member with her mouth. The submissive post-coital ritual marked the end of playtime and she performed it with more enthusiasm than usual, eager to get some rest.

"You alright?" Harry asked when she settled against him after finishing.

"More than alright." Septima groaned, stretching out her tired limbs. Her whole body ached and hurt in all the right ways and there was a steady trickle of Harry's warm seed oozing out of her arse. It didn't get much better. "What is going _on_ with you lately? This is the third time in the past two weeks that you've fucked me like you had something to prove and it was even worse this time. If this keeps up I'll end up permanently bowlegged."

Harry had always been so wonderfully dominant and overpowering, but these last three times she had seriously questioned if he would heed the safeword if she used it. Strangely enough, his unusual aggression would gradually bleed off while he was fucking her until he was back to normal.

"Let's just say that you've been the beneficiary of some magical experimentation." Harry chuckled.

Septima didn't ask, knowing that he wouldn't elaborate, and they lapsed into silence. The only sound was the occasional clink of her collar's chain as Harry absently tugged on it, which made her smile.

She loved the collar and lived in a mix of dread and eager anticipation of the day that Harry would order her to wear it in public. He hadn't so far, which was both a relief and a disappointment.

"I hear you've got yourself an admirer." Harry said casually a few minutes later.

Septima wasn't at all surprised that he knew about the man that had become sweet on her recently. He seemed to know everything these days.

"Mhm." Was her only reply, too pleasantly lethargic to really bother thinking of the mid-thirties wizard trying to woo her.

"Not interested?" Harry chuckled again.

"He's nice enough, I suppose."

"But?"

"But nice is boring."

She'd had a nice boyfriend once. A Hufflepuff in the same year as her. He'd been so awkward and shy when he'd asked her to go to Hogsmeade with him in their seventh year and she'd been so flattered that someone had actually asked bookish, unnoticeable Septima Vector for a date...

Their relationship had been very...safe, with not much drama or excitement. It hadn't been passionate or in hindsight even all that deep. If he hadn't been killed by Death Eaters, they'd probably have naturally progressed towards marriage simply because that was how things were done.

A husband and children would have been nice, but life was messy and stressful and Septima had never felt more relaxed or free than when she relinquished control to Harry. Marriage to a man that couldn't give her that would always have been mediocre at best, even if she never realised what she actually wanted. She felt a bit guilty sometimes for thinking that those Death Eaters had done her a favor.

"You never know, he might have hidden depths." Harry said idly.

Septima raised her head to look into his brilliant emerald eyes. "Are you trying to get rid of me, Harry?" She asked, keeping her tone light even though she was actually worried.

"Not at all." He replied, giving her collar a slightly harder tug. "I'm just saying that you don't have to hold back from exploring other possibilities on my account."

Reassured, she laid her head back on his chest and chuckled. "Even if I wanted to give him a chance, I doubt he'd be fine with me being your mistress while we were getting to know each other."

"Yes, that could be awkward." Harry was also amused.

Septima chuckled again. Talk about understating it.

"Did you ever have any trouble from your girls over having mistresses?" She asked curiously after a few seconds of silence.

"Not really." He replied lightly, absently tugging on her collar again. "Luna doesn't have a jealous bone in her body and Fleur is a veela, they don't consider sex any more scandalous than hugging. As for Dora...well, she wasn't exactly _happy_ about it, but she came into the relationship late and didn't really have any room to complain."

"Strange that she would get into a relationship like that in the first place then." Septima commented.

"Fleur spent quite a while softening her up before she did. Besides, you know that no woman can resist once they've had a taste of my magic cock." He declared pompously.

Septima dissolved into helpless giggles at the ridiculous statement. Although it was indeed a very impressive piece of male endowment...

Alright, so maybe there was some truth to Harry's words.

"Do you think your girlfriends would mind if you gave me another taste then?" She asked suggestively, already sliding down his body.

"Not at all, they're doing their own thing right now actually..."

XXXXX

Luna walked through the forest, hand in hand with Marae.

It was always nice to spend time with the towering dryad after wearing the Crown of Glory. She was much less aggravating than humans.

Luna didn't like feeling aggravated, by her lovers least of all.

A fairy landed on one of Marae's leaking breasts and drank some of her nectar before buzzing off in a distinctly inebriated fashion.

Luna giggled at the sight and the forest giggled with her as Marae shared her amusement.

XXXXX

Tonks breathed in deep of the thin air, floating above the clouds without the aid of a broom or flying carpet.

Harry had reverse engineered Voldemort's flying spell some time ago and taught it to them.

Harry and his endless supply of magic tricks, some amazing and some horrible.

The Crown of Glory was definitely horrible.

Tonks had spent nearly two hours beating the stuffing out of a punching bag to vent her aggression. Then she'd called up one of those veela masseusses that were always so eager to come over. That had been nice and relaxing, as had getting her peach eaten by the same masseusse afterwards.

Now she was here, watching the sunset from above the clouds, more than six thousand meters above sea level. Good thing she was a witch and had warming charms, or it would have been bloody cold up here.

She was starting to see why Harry liked coming either up here or standing at the top of his tower. It was very peaceful and detached from the world.

XXXXX

Fleur sighed contently, snuggling up to her sister. Gabrielle was twelve years old now and had started puberty. Puberty for a veela meant sex with an older, more experienced veela to get the hang of her nature and awoken instincts.

Fleur had insisted that she would be the one to teach Gabby, even if the custom was usually to let someone outside the immediate family do it as a way of fostering friendships.

Having a young, biddable bed partner had been exactly what Fleur needed to shake off the Crown of Glory's less pleasant effects. She still had the occasional flash of dread at how close they had come to ruining everything because of that horrible spell.

In some ways, Fleur resented the ICW even more than Harry did because of that. The four of them had carved out this slice of paradise for themselves, what business did a bunch of greedy politicians have trying to stick their noses into it, forcing them to go that far to defend it?

If Harry ever decided that the ICW needed to burn, Fleur would be the first to set it on fire.

"Fleur?" Gabrielle spoke up, fidgeting a little.

"Yes, what is it?" Fleur asked, shifting her young sister around so that they could look at each other.

"Do you think Harry would have sex with me?" She asked nervously.

Fleur had been expecting this. Gabby had gotten over the scare Harry had given her when he'd killed Lucius Malfoy and was now experiencing the typical veela reaction to a powerful wizard.

"I will ask, but I can't make any promises." Fleur said. "You know how silly humans are about sex."

If it was just Harry, he could probably be reasoned with and convinced that there was nothing wrong with sleeping with a twelve-year-old veela as long as he was gentle about it. Nymmie though...

Well, the metamorphmagus was less reasonable and more emotional about these things, not to mention attached to her little foibles. She would protest.

Still, she wouldn't trade any of her human lovers for anything, no matter how silly they could be.

XXXXX

Things settled down a bit after the meeting with the ICW delegation. Sort of.

The news that Harry Potter was permanently and officially moving out of Britain was met with a general sense of disbelief, loss, indignation and some fear from the magical population of that country. Fudge was especially filled with fear at having his most powerful supporter suddenly strike out on his own.

Amelia Bones was one of the rare few that was relieved. While he had done a great deal of good from her perspective and even gave her a measure of revenge for the murder of her family, he had still been a loose cannon that she had no real way of containing.

His terms for entry into the ICW were accepted after a solid week of arguing, largely due to the support of Dumbledore and several others that thought to benefit from the newly established realm. The representative from the Goblin Nation kicked up a huge fuss about it, but didn't achieve much as the goblins had no actual vote on the matter. Relations between goblins and wizards did sour further though.

Narcissa was named to the Council of Mugwumps, much to her pleasure. It was still a damn stupid name as far as Harry was concerned, but she was happy with it.

Dumbledore showed up again a day after that was done, to talk about the fight against Voldemort. As was usual for the old wizard, he wanted to keep the damage as low as possible.

Harry agreed with him about keeping the damage as low as possible, but his method of doing that was by causing so much damage to the other side that it wouldn't be capable of doing any of its own.

Dumbledore wasn't particularly happy about that plan, but couldn't dispute that it would be better for Voldemort and the Death Eaters to be hurt rather than non-combatants, nor was he allowed to forget that it wasn't for him to decide how the war would be pursued. That was why he eventually relented and used his considerable political influence to get Harry and the girls the sanction to act against the Dark Lord anywhere.

That took weeks of negotiation to achieve and the end result was more tame than Harry would have liked. They needed to inform the head of the DMLE in the relevant country, had to be accompanied by a force of local Aurors on any raids, had limits on how much force they could use and worst of all, could not unilaterally take custody of everyone they captured, aside from the British Death Eaters.

Harry wasn't happy about that, but at least Bellatrix was still his if anyone caught her. Not that he knew where she was.

In preparation for the renewal of hostilities, Harry spent much of his energy during that time searching for targets. In addition to Romania, he had detected a Death Eater presence in Bulgaria, Spain, Italy and Poland.

The time inevitably came to act on that information...

XXXXX

 _June 3rd, 2018._

"All four of us going on the same raid would be complete overkill." Dora was saying as she peered at the large world map that had various photographs and notes pinned to it. "Any one of us could probably take one of these by ourselves."

Harry frowned, but nodded all the same. He was reluctant to have them split up because then he would not be there with them if something went wrong, but there was no denying that it would be a waste of resources to have all of them go to the same place.

"Luna shouldn't go anyhwere by herself at least." He said.

"Agreed." Both Fleur and Dora said in unison. All of them felt quite protective of their youngest lover.

Luna merely blinked, offering no protest. She knew that she wasn't aggressive enough to go alone and would in fact prefer to play a defensive support role in any fighting.

Of course, 'alone' in this case meant 'away from the others' as opposed to actually alone. The local Aurors and the Raven Host would still be present regardless.

"Is Etal coming with us?" She asked instead.

"Unless he shows up soon, I think we can assume he won't." Harry replied wryly. The quetzalcoatl had been AWOL for weeks now. Nothing unusual about that, as he had a tendency to go where the wind took him for a while before coming back to Spellhaven to laze about until the next time he got struck with wanderlust.

"Alright, so who wants which?" Dora asked, bringing the conversation back on track.

"I'll take Dolohov in Romania." Harry said.

"Spain should be nice this time of year." Fleur said with a smirk.

"Luna and I will take the one in Poland then."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement even though he would feel more comfortable keeping the girls close. They were powerful witches and didn't need coddling. He would still insist on them going together if not for the necessity of making a simultaneous strike to take maximum advantage of the initiative.

"Now we just need to divide up the Raven Host among the other locations..." That was fortunately not a problem. Even though they numbered only nine at this point, Dora assured him that they were better combat trained and equipped than Aurors. That would make sense, as their training was focused exclusively on combat.

XXXXX

 _June 4th, 2018. Spellhaven, Potter Cháteau._

The Raven Host was an odd group. Three male werewolves and one female, two veela and three wizards. All of them fighters by inclination, geared up in expensive dragon hide armor and looking ready to do some damage.

They might be few in number, but they were skilled. Certainly far more skilled than Voldemort's horde of thugs. Harry was sure that they would be more than equal to the task of fighting any Death Eaters as long as they weren't severely outnumbered.

He just hoped that the local Aurors didn't give them any crap. Ideally, either he or one of the girls would be there with them to lend an extra touch of authority, but they couldn't be everywhere at once.

He was just about to start handing out portkeys to the designated locations when an unwelcome interruption occured.

"Harry, could I talk to you before you go?" Narcissa hesitantly asked from the doorway.

Harry took one look at her and resisted the urge to sigh. Pale face, trembling voice, wavering expression, wringing hands...the blonde witch was barely holding it together and he had a good idea as to the cause.

"I'll be back in a second." He said to the group, getting nods from the Raven Host and knowing looks from his girls.

They were barely out of the room when Narcissa threw her arms around him and buried her face in his basilisk hide covered chest.

"I'm sorry, Cissy." Harry said as he returned the desperate hug. And he was sorry, for her grief if not for her idiot offspring.

The Kinfinder spell used with Narcissa's blood was how they had gotten the location in Italy. The spell had given out inconclusive answers for some time, indicating anti-scrying magics, but now Draco had left those protections and returned to Italy. He wasn't doing anything obviously nefarious, but he'd long since learned from the prisoners taken at Malfoy Manor who they had to thank for Voldemort's resurrection.

Draco fucking Malfoy and the surprise addition of an old...'aquintance', the assassin from the second task of the Tri-Wizard tournament. Seeing that man's face in his captives' memories had been an unwelcome surprise. Adrastia could probably tell him a thing or two about the assassin, but he hadn't asked because the woman would have no doubt made him pay for it in some way.

He could probably buy her loyalty, or at least make it unpalatable for her to betray him, with the Elixir of Life, but that was a damn big secret to be sharing with someone like Adrastia.

"I know I can't protect my son from the choices he makes anymore." The blonde witch began tremulously. "And I know that he chose to make himself your enemy, but..." She had to pause to take a deep breath before she could continue, and even then it was in a broken whisper. "But I'd like to at least talk to him one more time. Please."

Harry resisted the urge to curse the name of Draco Malfoy. Why did that idiot have to be such an idiot?

"They're supposed to capture him anyway, but I'll tell them again." He said with a sigh. He'd already been planning to kill the little blond idiot quickly after he was done interrogating him, solely for Narcissa's sake. He could agree to this much, even if he thought it a bad idea.

"Thank you." She said, squeezing tighter for a moment before letting go and giving him a watery smile.

Harry resisted the urge to let out another sigh. What a stupid situation, and all because Draco was too proud to let things go, just like his father.

XXXXX

 _Romania._

Antonin Dolohov had been honored by the trust and faith implied in being given the mission to seek out potential Death Eaters in Romania. That didn't make it any less boring however and he'd been itching for a good fight or even a raid on some filthy muggles.

That was why he'd been almost happy when the house he was living in was attacked. Finally, some excitement.

Even seeing Potter of all people stalk towards him didn't manage to put a dent in his enthusiasm. Dolohov had always had a rather high opinion of his own skills. Admittedly not without reason, as he was one of Voldemort's strongest fighters and had defeated powerful wizards such as Gideon and Fabian Prewett in the past.

But it quickly became clear to him that he was not going to be winning this one. Potter's powerful magic lent him a dread presence akin to the Dark Lord himself, his defensive spells were as solid as a mountain and his offensive ones fearsome strong.

The would-be Death Eaters that had been with him had already been defeated by what looked like Aurors, but he couldn't help them. He couldn't even help himself.

"What's wrong, Dolohov?" His young opponent asked mockingly. "Why do I hear your strength failing? Has your courage deserted you already? Fight! Cling to life! The only path to your survival lies beyond my corpse."

Dolohov's features twisted in anger at the realisation that he was being toyed with. With a vicious slash of his wand, he let loose with one of his favorite spells, a lash of purple fire that attacked the internal organs. He followed it up immediately by banishing a heavy couch at his opponent.

Potter dismissed the purple flame with an almost negligent wave of his hand and swept aside the heavy projectile as if it was no more dangerous than a beach ball, something that was heavily disputed by the way the house shuddered as the couch hit the wall.

But Dolohov hadn't really expected to get a hit in with those two attacks. No, they were distractions so that he'd have time to cast a silent Killing Curse.

The green beam of death flew towards his enemy...

...and missed as Potter avoided it by simply leaning sideways, as if he'd known exactly what was coming and where it was going.

Dolohov barely got a shield up in time to defend against the retaliatory attack. It was a simple bludgening hex, it should have been easily blocked, but there was so much force behind it that the veteran Death Eater felt his will buckle under the strain.

Only a handful of spells from Potter and he was already on the edge of magical exhaustion. No wonder the Dark Lord had cautioned them not to fight him alone.

He had no time to bring up another shield before a whip of crackling lightning wrapped itself around him, stinging against his skin.

"You fail." Potter declared, a grim smile on his scarred face.

A surge of power went through the whip and Dolohov lost consciousness via electrocution.

XXXXX

Harry looked at his captive thoughtfully. He had used Dolohov to test his prowess against someone that was genuinely trying to kill him instead of the harmless spars with his girls.

It was good to know that he had passed beyond the level where even adept wizards were a threat in direct combat, but the journey wasn't over. It would never be over.

XXXXX

 _Later that evening. Spellhaven._

Unfortunately, Harry's success in capturing Dolohov proved to be the exception rather than the rule. Aside from him, only Fleur had succeeded in capturing her target, all the other raids had failed, their targets fled before they even arrived.

"The ministries are compromised." Harry said with a scowl. "It's the only way they could have been warned that we were coming."

This was why he hated dealing with governments.

"But how?" Dora asked in frustration. "They had less than a day of warning and we only told the heads of the DMLE."

"They might have a Fudge problem." Luna suggested idly.

"Luna's probably on to something." Harry sighed in defeat. "If any of their ministers of magic are half as stupid as and greedy as Fudge, it would have been easy to arrange. Not to mention that they're probably still sulking about Spellhaven muscling in on their profits."

"Don't forget that they weren't very cooperative either." Fleur added.

That was unfortunately also true. The local Aurors had been downright cliché in their reactions to outsiders.

"So what are we going to do now?" Dora asked.

"I don't know." Harry's scowl returned, deeper and harsher. "If we keep playing by the rules we might find ourselves walking into an ambush one day, but if we don't and get caught the ICW will get pissy."

That fantasy of walking into the ICW council chamber and casting Abi-Dalzim's Horrid Wilting while it was in use was sounding more and more appealing.

Wouldn't do anything except brand him a threat to the entire magical world, but it sure would be satisfying.

"Maybe we could do both?" The metamorphmagus suggested. "Do secret raids on the more important targets and only announce the ones that don't matter if we fail?"

"I think we might have to." Harry sighed. What a pain….

XXXXX

When Voldemort heard that his nemesis had struck again, he had mixed feelings on the matter. On the one hand, Potter had yet again somehow managed to sniff out his servants even though they were taking painstaking care to keep a low profile. On the other, the bribes, threats and promises given to the local authorities had been enough to warn them ahead of time in three of five cases.

Either way, the Dark Lord knew that he would need to retaliate soon, or else have his minions think him weak.

Fortunately, he had been intending to strike soon either way. Potter's birthday would be the best time. He might even interrupt another orgy.


	45. Chapter 45

**This chapter ended up being unusually long because I couldn't split it properly anywhere.**

 **Credit for beta work goes to Joe Lawyer.**

XXXXX

 _June 16th, 2018. Ravenhead._

"Hard to believe that this little thing is the key to eternal life and unlimited wealth." Dora said, turning over the fist-sized, faceted red stone in her hand.

Harry had created a proper Philosopher's Stone after much research and several failed attempts.

"The secret to world domination; time and money." Fleur said with an amused grin, holding it up to her eyes after the metamorphmagus passed it over to her.

"Do you think it can be used to transmute pudding?" Luna asked when it was her turn to handle the alchemical catalyst.

 _Someone has their priorities straight._ Harry thought wryly as he took the Stone back.

"It can, although not easily since pudding is a complex organic compound." He answered. Conjured food could be made to look, taste and smell like real food if you were good enough, but it would provide no sustenance. Transfigured food was even worse, as it was invariably lethal when it changed back inside the body, unless it had been transfigured from other food of course. Transmuted food, on the other hand, was perfectly viable, albeit difficult to make and generally not worth the bother.

"Will you make me some?" Luna asked with wide, hopeful eyes.

Unless of course your girlfriend gave you that look.

"Sure." Harry sighed in fond exasperation. It would be good practice at any rate.

"Yay." Luna cheered.

"We could be making Elixir of Life or any number of other things that most people would kill for, and yet the first thing on the list is _pudding_." Dora said, shaking her head.

"What do we need the Elixir of Life for?" Luna asked reasonably. "We're still young."

"Well, that's true." The metamorphmagus conceded. "It's just...it seems almost like sacrilege to use the Philosopher's Stone for something so ridiculous."

"Sacrilege, I like the sound of that." Harry grinned at her lasciviously. "Maybe I'll use it to create superior lube after the pudding."

He could and did already make lube without the aid of a Philosopher's Stone, so any lube made with it would have to be superior.

"Ooh! Make _pudding flavored_ lube." Luna jumped in excitedly.

"I'm not sure if making brown lube is a good idea." Fleur snickered.

"I was thinking mint." Harry offered, struggling not to laugh at the exasperated look on Dora's face. "Slippery, but also fresh and breezy."

"It would certainly be nice to have fresh breath after eating out Nymmie's butthole." Fleur said approvingly, getting in on the joke.

"You say that as if it's dirty." Dora said indignantly. "And nobody says you have to do that in the first place."

"I do when you clench so tightly that Harry can't pull out even if he wanted to." Fleur sniffed.

Instead of taking offense, the metamorphmagus merely looked smug, which made the silver-blonde woman give another disdainful sniff.

Harry knew that Fleur was just a little bit jealous of Dora's ability to morph her body into a perfect fit for any lover. It prickled at her veela pride to be so challenged when it came to sexual prowess, and in such a cheatsy way. To compensate, Fleur often went the extra mile to prove that she was the best.

Of course, Dora was pretty competitive herself, so she couldn't just let that go...

Harry was greatly amused by their friendly competition and had no qualms about enjoying the benefits. He and Luna sometimes egged them on to see what they'd come up with next. Life was good, even with a homicidal maniac out to kill them all.

"Hobby projects aside, I need your opinion on something." He said, steering the conversation back on track.

"Something to do with the Philosopher's Stone?" Dora asked.

"Yes." Harry nodded. "I'm thinking of using the Elixir of Life as a bribe for Adrastia. She'd be an excellent informant, spy, covert operative and possibly assassin for us and she let slip that she was considering vampirism as a means of keeping her youth, but..."

"But it would mean telling her about the Philosopher's Stone." Dora finished, shaking her head. "You already know my opinion. I don't think we can trust her, even if we dangle the Elixir of Life under her nose as incentive."

Harry nodded, having expected that and turned to the two blondes.

Fleur looked pensive for a few moments before shaking her head. "I am with Nymmie on this. However useful it would be to have that woman on our side, she is too much of a wild card."

They all turned to the last of their number.

"She seems lonely." Luna said in the dreamy tones she often used when she was thinking.

"Lonely?" Dora echoed skeptically.

"She offered us drinks when we picked up Rowle and insisted that Harry give her a tour – she wanted to socialise. I don't think anyone she actually respects ever wants to just socialise with her." Luna explained.

"Could it be because she's a known serial killer?"

"Serial killers get lonely too."

The metamorphmagus gaped at Luna's simple wisdom and Harry was little better. Of course Adrastia could get lonely too, if was obvious when you thought about it – she was a person as much as anyone else, as hard as that was to keep in mind with her hobbies.

Still, just because Adrastia could _theoretically_ be lonely and hoping for friendship from them didn't meant she actually _was_. He did still vividly recall that Luna had said the same thing about Slytherin's basilisk.

And did it even matter? Harry might have accepted that the notorious Black Widow was going to be popping into their lives every so often, but he wasn't terribly eager to befriend her. On the other hand, it would be damn stupid to even consider revealing the Philosopher's Stone to her and then continue keeping her at arm's length. Sharing a secret of that magnitude would mean tying their fortunes together far more firmly than the tentative agreement they had now.

"So are you saying that we should...what, make friends with her?" Dora asked with consternation, staring at Luna with a frown.

"Why not?" Luna asked back guilelessly. "It wouldn't cost us anything."

"That's...true." Harry admitted grundgingly. "Alright, let's say for the sake of argument that we go with the idea of making friends with Adrastia. How would we even go about it?"

It went unsaid that sex was off the table. Without knowing _exactly_ what kind of tricks Adrastia could play with Sex Magic, Harry was not bringing his pecker anywhere near her, no matter how hot she was. That was one branch of magic that didn't subscribe to gender equality and it favored women heavily. Ejaculating into a witch was a willing 'donation' of a man's essence and implicitly gave the witch in question quite a lot to work with if she were so inclined.

Harry had convinced the girls to help him investigate the matter and they came to some rather disturbing conclusions. Obviously, everything that could be done with such a reagent was linked to sex, arousal or procreation, but it was no less powerful than willingly given blood. The sheer number of spells, seals, bindings or curses that could be cast on a man through the use of his willingly given seed were actually quite worrying and that wasn't even going into what the bloodline of Lilith had achieved through Sex Magic.

If Harry didn't trust his girls completely, he'd never be able to fuck them again without fearing what they might do to him afterwards. Not without a condom at any rate.

While he wasn't sure if Adrastia knew any Sex Magic beyond the Joining, he certainly wasn't going to risk it.

"I suppose we could invite her to your birthday party." Fleur suggested equally grudgingly. "It would be a reasonably safe opportunity."

"Whoa, hold on a second." Harry jumped in. "Who said I'm having a birthday party?"

"Don't be ridiculous, of course you're having a birthday party." Fleur said dismissively. "I've already invited almost everyone and I am not letting you dodge another social event."

"Aren't you forgetting what happened last year?" Harry asked irritably. "Voldemort is exactly the type of drama queen to think that making a big return on the same day would be great symbolism."

"We can still be ready while having a party." The veela insisted stubbornly. "I even left out any alcohol."

Harry exhaled grumpily, a bit annoyed that Fleur had organised all of this wouldn't even talking to him first. At least she hadn't sprung a surprise orgy on them. It would have been damn awkward explaining to a gaggle of pouty veela that they had to stay watchful in case Voldemort decided to cause trouble and didn't have time to screw around.

"What do you think, Dora?" He asked, knowing that the metamorphmagus would be the one to put up the most resistance to that kind of plan.

"I really don't want Zabini around, but..." She paused with a sour expression. "...but I guess we might as well keep her close if we have to deal with her anyway."

Harry knew that Dora would prefer to be rid of Adrastia in a permanent fashion, had even suggested that he agree to shag her and strangle her while doing it. The ruthless suggestion had surprised him. He'd considered it himself for the sheer irony of it, but he hadn't expected to hear it from Dora. She had changed a lot from the idealistic Auror she used to be.

Unfortunately, Adrastia still knew enough of his secrets to cause quite a bit of damage if they got out and he wasn't going to assume that she didn't still have plans in place to leak them if something happened to her. Plus, she could be useful.

XXXXX

 _June 25th, 2018. Ravenhead._

Harry inspected the contraption critically. He could find no flaws in it, but only time would tell for sure.

"What are you doing, Potter?" Dolohov asked resentfully from the small glass enclosure he was currently confined in.

"Getting ready to suck the magic out of you and your friends." Harry replied honestly. There was no need to lie to the man, not when he'd already extracted all the useful information from him.

Dolohov looked horrified and then his face twisted hatefully. "Finishing what the mudbloods started?" He spat.

"Oh, do shut up with the 'mudbloods are stealing our magic' bullshit. It wasn't clever when you came up with it and it isn't clever now." Harry sighed in exasperation. "Besides, it's not like you're going to need your magic anymore. I have better uses for it."

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!" Dolohov roared.

Harry blinked owlishly, honestly surprised by the sheer _outrage_. Then he chuckled. This was just too precious, a Death Eater whining about rights.

"I thought you'd have figured out how this prisoner thing works by now?" He asked rhetorically, still chuckling.

Dolohov just glared back.

Harry activated the device which bore a startling resemblance to a still aside from the Philosopher's Stone embedded in the heart of it. The second Stone he'd made actually. The first one was for screwing around with, while this one was made for this specific task.

Dolohov made a strangled sound and looked around wildly.

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously.

"Turn it off!" The Death Eater shouted, grabbing at his head.

"Fascinating, but could you be more specific?" Harry asked dryly, knowing from experience that his test subjects generally didn't feel too cooperative.

Dolohov made a sound like a wounded animal and threw himself at the glass walls of his prison.

Harry turned off the device after about a minute of this. "Now, what did that feel like?"

"Fuck you!"

"I rather doubt it."

Harry turned the device back on.

"Going to need restraints to prevent self-harm." He determined a few minutes later when Dolohov tried to headbutt the enchanted glass.

XXXXX

 _June 26th, 2018. Ravenhead._

"Alright, I think we can safely conclude that long-term exposure doesn't do any permanent damage, or if it does it's on a long enough time scale to not matter." Harry said, looking at Dolohov.

The Death Eater was trussed up inside the glass enclosure like Hannibal Lecter, but he still had enough fire in him to glare furiously. That was why he'd been picked for this actually. If this magic distillery of his was going to break people's minds, it would be the most visible on him.

Not that Harry was particularly concerned if their minds broke out of compassion or anything, but mindbroken wizards and witches let off a lot less ambient magic.

XXXXX

 _June 27th, 2018. Ravenhead._

Harry looked with pride at what he'd constructed over the past day. There were dozens of large glass tubes connected with pipes to the, for lack of a better name, magic still in the center.

It looked eerily similar to the Spellhold ritual chamber from Bladur's Gate 2, which was where Harry got the design idea. Why bother reinventing the wheel after all?

Most of the tubes were empty, an unfortunate consequence of the fact that Harry had nearly exhausted his supply of prisoners with previous experiments, but those that were occupied contained immobilised wizards bearing a variety of expressions ranging from terrified to angry.

"I'll come check back on you guys later." Harry said, switched the thing on and left to go do something else.

XXXXX

 _June 28th, 2018. Ravenhead._

"Man, this is going to take a while." Harry said with a sigh, looking at the pitiful few drops of liquid magic he'd distilled from his prisoners over the past day.

On the bright side, the power density was _way_ higher than expected. So high, in fact, that Harry found it hard to look directly at the stuff because of how brightly it glowed to his Magesight. Oh, the possibilities...

XXXXX

 _July 5th, 2018. Ravenhead._

The clack of heels echoed strangely in the stone halls of Ravenhead as Fleur stomped her way towards Harry's laboratory. It was her turn for a one-on-one date with him and he had apparently forgotten in favor of his latest project. That stung her pride.

"Harry..." The veela growled as she found him.

"I'll be ready in five minutes." Harry replied hurriedly, already putting things away. He must have sensed her entering his tower and realised his blunder.

Fleur nodded firmly, a little mollified by his haste. He was lucky that she, Nymmie and Luna had started putting a fifteen minute allowance into any of their plans that called for Harry to be punctual. He was far too absent-minded sometimes.

Feeling a hint of curiousity in spite of her agitation at having any man be late to a date with her, she moved towards his workspace to see what he'd been doing that was so damn interesting.

One item in particular immediately drew her attention to the exclusion of all else, a small crystal phial containing a glowing liquid that sang a siren song to her instincts. She recognised it instantly, it was the liquid magic that Harry was making.

Fleur licked her lips, suddenly feeling desperately thirsty. Harry had told them about this stuff of course, but this was her first time actually seeing it.

The clink of the crystal stopper as she removed it seemed to echo loudly in her ears, but she paid it no mind as she raised the phial to her lips. Someone was shouting, but it was far away and unimportant. The only thing that mattered was drinking the pure magic contained within the tiny phial.

And then someone was there, their fist closing harshly over her hand and crushing her fingers. Her arm was yanked on harshly, pulling her into the man's shoulder and the other hand started prying the phial away from her.

Fleur shrieked in both pain and fury and fought back, recognising Harry and instinctively began to call on her fire to burn him. How dare he hurt her? How dare he try to steal from her? But the fire wouldn't come, blocked by his will, so she tried to push him away with all the strength her thin arms possessed.

She was already transforming by that point and her taloned fingers easily sank into the flesh of his opposing shoulder. His grunt of pain brought her a rush of satisfaction, but the feeling only lasted for a moment as he managed to wrest the phial out of her hand. Fury growing, she raked her now fully formed talons down his left arm with every intention of slicing him to ribbons and get the precious phial back.

Harry hissed in pain through clenched teeth and rammed his shoulder into her chest. The dress and heels she was wearing were perfect attire for an expensive date, but not so great for fighting in. The hit sent her sprawling painfully on the hard stone floor with the wind knocked out of her.

"FLEUR!"

The pain and the shout finally penetrated the thick fog of want and anger and Fleur blinked up at her lover.

"Harry?" She asked, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Her right hand hurt, as did her ribs and bottom, but that was quickly forgotten as she saw the shredded sleeve on his left arm, blood pouring down the limb. "You're hurt!"

"No shit!" He snapped, glaring at her suspiciously. "What the hell came over you?"

"I...don't know." She replied guiltily, recalling her attempts to kill him with a detached sort of horror. It felt almost like a dream.

And the worst part was that she still felt that gnawing _want_ for the phial he was trying to keep out of her sight. She wanted it so desperately, that beneath the horrorified guilt of her attempt to kill the man she loved for it, there was also a festering resentment directed at him for keeping it away from her.

"I need to go." She said quickly and scrambled away without giving him a chance to reply.

XXXXX

Harry watched her go with a furrowed brow, but didn't try to stop her. Only once he felt her presence leave his tower did he relax and look for the crystal stopper, recapped the phial and put it away. It was fortunate that he'd managed to cap the mouth with his thumb so that none of the liquid magic spilled out.

Next he cast a few hurried healing spells at his sliced up arm and went to retrieve the Essence of Dittany that he always kept around. The wounds were fortunately not terribly deep and closed easily enough, though the skin was still raw and achy. They would leave scars without further attention from a proper healer, but Harry had bigger problems than vanity.

Fleur's reaction to just being in the presence of the liquid magic was deeply worrying. Measures would have to be taken to prevent any repeats, but he needed to check on her first.

He found her pacing in their bedroom. She'd taken off her shoes and and jewelry and was wringing her hands nervously, her face flashing through so many emotions that it was hard to identify a single one. Her aura was similarly disturbed and she hadn't even noticed him enter.

"Fleur." He said quietly, drawing a deer-in-the-headlights look from her that he would have found highly amusing in different circumstances.

"Harry." She returned with something that was probably supposed to be a smile but came off as more of a grimace.

"How are your fingers?" He asked softly, stepping forward to gently take hold of her right hand. He'd grabbed them rather harshly in his haste to keep her from drinking the liquid magic.

"Fine." She said, flexing them to prove it. "How is your arm?"

"Fine." He said with a small grin, rolling his shoulder to prove it.

Fleur took another step forward, pressing herself up against him. Harry noticed that she was trembling.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"It's alright." He replied and decided to conduct a little test. "But you aren't allowed in my laboratory anymore."

As he had half-expected, Fleur immediately reeled back and glared at him furiously.

"What?" She hissed. Her eyes were black.

"I should have known better than to let you get so close to pure magic." He went on implacably. "It won't happen again."

Fleur tore out of his embrace, growling and glaring. " _You_...!" She seemed too angry to articulate properly. That was bad.

"Do you have any idea what would happen to you if you'd succeeded in drinking it today?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

Fleur blinked and her eyes faded back into blue, outrage derailed by the question. "Well, no, but..."

"Neither do I." He spoke over her. "And I don't care to find out at your expense."

"I would be fine!" She insisted stubbornly, angrily.

Harry was generally quite happy to let the veela do as their instincts demanded. Most saw only their appearances, but to him their true beauty was beneath the skin, in their inhuman, magical nature. This was the first time that he found himself unwilling to indulge his lover's passions and appetites. She represented 25% of everything he genuinely cared about in this world and he didn't want to find out that drinking pure magic would cause a veela's brain to dribble out of her nose or something.

But Fleur was not thinking or listening, too busy _wanting_.

Harry was unfortunately not that great at dealing with unreasonable people that he couldn't kill or bully into submission and his patience was fraying rapidly.

"You are being selfish." He growled at her.

" _I_ am being selfish?" She asked in angry disbelief. "You are the one refusing to share!"

"Because it's dangerous!" He snapped.

"I would be fine!" She yelled back, gesturing wildly with her arms. Her eyes were black again and she was starting to sprout feathers.

Harry was sorely tempted to slap some sense into her and he wasn't being metaphorical, he genuinely wanted to let fly a meaty smack right on her flawless cheek, the kind reserved for people that are being dumb enough to warrant physical violence as a corrective measure, like Fudge when he heard something that scared him.

Fortunately that was just a first impulse and Harry was more than familiar enough with the quirks of the veela species to come upon an alternative within moments.

He grabbed her wrists.

"Let go of me!" Fleur snarled, trying to wrench her hands away.

Harry ignored the demand. It was clear that talking her down wouldn't work, so that left only forcing her. He twisted her hands behind her back, ignoring her futile struggling against his greater strength, and transferred his grip to one hand. Now having a hand free, he used it to grab her hair, yank her head back and press a demanding kiss to her lips.

She briefly tried to fight, but soon began reciprocating. That was good. If Fleur was willing to let the struggle between them turn sexual then she'd probably be alright. Harry had not been looking forward to the dilemma he'd be presented with if it hadn't worked. Backing down at this point would definitely be perceived as a weakness by the obviously instinct-driven veela, thus making the original problem significantly worse and continuing would have been rape. Good luck choosing the lesser evil there.

He eased up his grip on her hair and released her hands, which impatiently began to fumble with his belt, but Fleur quickly decided that simply ripping his pants off with her still half-formed talons was a better idea. Harry gave the expensive dress that she'd been looking forward to wearing for their date the same treatment. His shirt and and both of their underwear swiftly joined the mess of tattered clothing on the floor. His shoes and socks were nearly blasted off his feet through the use of a spell that he'd created for the exact purpose of quickly removing said items in the event of spontaneus sex.

Now that they were both naked, Harry grabbed his lover by the thighs and lifted her up. Fleur cooperated eagerly and impaled herself on his erect member with an ecstatic moan before he even made it to the bed. The moan turned into a yell as they went horizontal, the momentum ramming him all the way into her. A little wiggling later and they were in the middle of the huge bed.

The Joining had become an instinctual part of their lovemaking by now, but this time it was different. Fleur's instincs were too close to the surface right now. She was still too combative and willful for it to be an expression of love. No, this time it was about dominance. He had to remind her who was in charge.

Figures that a serious lover's spat with a veela would be solved by who could fuck who the hardest.

XXXXX

Harry spent hours plowing Fleur, he went at her with more vigor than a dozen sailors that hadn't seen a woman in months and when his own strength started flagging, he chugged some of Marae's Nectar to get a boost.

There were two reasons for this. The first was based on the logic that if a good fucking would snap her out of whatever instinct driven madness getting so close to the liquid magic had put her in, it was best to fuck her as much as possible to make certain. The second was the simple fear that if it didn't work and she still had enough strength to do anything except fall asleep at the end of it, she was going to use the opportunity to make his life very difficult via the female side of Sex Magic if he did not surrender the liquid magic.

Dora and Luna had walked in on this situation and, after making a few jokes about their clearly aborted date, joined in.

They had been confused by Harry's insistence that they focus their full attention on Fleur, but sensed that there was more to it than first appeared and went along with it.

Only after their veela lover fell unconscious mid-fuck did he explain himself and got their full support.

That had been some time ago. Dora and Luna had agreed to clean Fleur up and remove any sperm she might be able to use later if the madness persisted while he barred the way to Ravenhead.

The last spell was cast on the massive stone door and the key removed from the lock. Since the enchantments had been cast while the key was inside the lock, the Law of Relevance would prevent the door from being altered or opened in any way except by use of that specific key and that specific key would be hidden inside a small Fidelius, with Dora as the Secret Keeper.

He didn't really want to do this, allowing the girls full access to everything had made things wonderfully simple, but none of them were willing to take the chance that Fleur would be overcome by temptation.

XXXXX

Fleur woke up the next morning at sunrise, as always, and smiled at the soreness of her body. Last night had been amazing.

That thought also brought back the incident with the liquid magic and her smile faded. The irrational, primal need to have it was muted now, but not gone. This also brought back the guilt.

 _I tried to kill Harry._ There was no getting around it. Lost in a covetous rage, she'd attacked her lover with lethal intent simply because he wouldn't let her have what she wanted. It had seemed so very important and reasonable then. She just _had_ to have the phial of liquid magic, it had felt as if everything depended on it. Only now that it was over did she see the madness of it. The realisation made her want to hide her head under the pillow in shame. She couldn't even bring herself to get her usual morning snack from Harry.

Of course, she wasn't the only one to wake up with the dawn.

"Fleur?" Harry asked softly.

Fleur didn't reply, merely hiding her face even further.

"It's true what they say." Harry continued with a rather overdone tone of lamentation. "You don't know what you've got until it's gone. How am I supposed to keep going without your morning blowjobs? Alas, woe is me!"

In spite of herself, Fleur felt a smile creeping on her face at his theatrics and she peeked up at his face.

Harry grinned back at her. "There you are. Morning, beautiful."

Fleur gave him another smile before burying her face in his chest and clinging to him like a limpet.

"I'm sorry!" She sobbed, suddenly overcome with emotion.

"It's alright." Harry soothed. "So you went a little crazy, big deal. Could have happened to anyone. I like my women feisty anyway."

"But I nearly killed you!" Fleur wailed.

"Oi, I like to think that I'm a bit harder to get rid of than that." Harry protested jokingly.

Fleur just continued to cry against him and Harry eventually decided to hold her and make comforting noises rather than attempt talking the emotional female out of her funk.

This inevitably woke up the other two occupants of the bed.

Luna heard Fleur crying and moved to spoon the taller blonde before she was even fully awake.

Tonks, on the other hand, was the least morning inclined of the foursome and far more bleary.

"Wha'gon'on?" She articulated unintelligibly around a massive yawn.

Luna was fortunately fluent in mumblespeak and was able to discern her meaning. "Fleur is feeling bad about what happened yesterday."

"Hmm?" Tonks returned uncomprehendingly, faculties still offline.

"Just join the cuddle." Luna directed patiently.

"Kay." The metamorphmagus mumbled and rolled over to spoon Luna, reaching over her to grab hold of one of Fleur's breasts.

Being squished in between her lovers helped Fleur calm down and her sobs eventually trailed off into quiet sniffles.

"That's better." Harry sighed theatrically. "You know how I am about crying women."

That got him a watery laugh from the veela.

"Lemme guess, you were more comfortable with her trying to kill you?" Tonks piped up sarcastically, getting in on the act now that she'd had enough time to wake up a bit.

"Much." Harry nodded firmly. "I even got a new set of cool scars out of that. The only thing I got from the crying was snot on my chest."

"Jerk." Fleur huffed tremulously. The reminder of what she'd tried to do yesterday sent another twinge of guilt through her, but the familiar banter went a long way to keeping her calm.

"Don't mind him, Fleur." Luna said wisely. "Harry's just cranky because you didn't suck on his penis as soon as you woke up."

"I'll have you know that my penis is a very high maintenance piece of equipment." Harry protested pompously.

"I wouldn't want to get snot on it in that case." Fleur retorted sweetly.

Tonks snickered.

"Touché." Harry conceded wryly.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence after that. Tonks started drifting off back to sleep, Harry's morning wood was fully present and poking Fleur in the stomach, which awoke the veela's usual morning cravings.

Then Luna started shifting awkwardly, irritating both the horny Fleur and the sleepy Tonks on either side of her.

"What's with you?" Tonks asked irritably as she was brought out of her drowsiness.

"I need to pee." Luna replied plaintively.

The other three all sighed in unison.

"Hot tub?" Harry suggested, getting a chorus of agreements. It wasn't often that all four of them woke up together after all.

XXXXX

 _July 31st, 2018. Spellhaven._

Harry doubted he would ever truly _like_ parties or social gatherings of any sort, but he had to admit that this was...not terrible.

Fleur had kept her word and made sure that it didn't get too wild. It was just her and Dora's families, along with a few friends such as Septima, Penny, Bryanna and Tiana. Etal had also showed up again and was currently being cooed over by Fleur's cousins, the silly hedonist. Everyone seemed to be having a good time and Harry himself had been allowed to fade into the background within the first hour, and if that fading into the background was helped along by a little magic then none of his girls commented on it.

They knew he preferred to slip into the role of a passive observer rather than an active participant in this kind of thing. This was really the only way he could enjoy himself at parties given his temperament and introverted inclinations. Just sit back and let the general hum of everyone else's enjoyment fill his subconscious.

Much like the vegetation in the nearby forest formed a singular, diffuse soul represented by Marae, crowds of people had one as well. The ontological manifestation of 'mob mentality' if you will. It was quite diverting, interesting and relaxing for Harry to simply mute his own voice and listen to the ebb and flow of everyone else's.

It was far more relaxed and pleasant than the stiff, formal balls he'd had to endure in the past. If this was what it would be like once the mess with Voldemort was over, he might even learn to enjoy it. Somewhat. In small doses.

Speaking of Voldemort, Harry had become increasingly more certain that he was up to something big and had a nasty feeling that it would happen either this night or the next. The only proof he had of this was Voldemort's penchant for theatrics and his sudden inability to find any more Death Eaters skulking around Europe, which he was well aware was not actual 'proof', but he was on edge nonetheless.

Still, there was nothing to be done about it that hadn't already been done. The Raven Host was warned to be ready in case they needed to spring into action. Their new security chief, Jeremy Kincaid, had also been told and would have made Moody proud with his vigilance over the past month. More personally, Harry and the girls weren't going to be fooling around for half the night. In fact, they weren't going to be fooling around at all, much to Fleur's vocal displeasure.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a sinister evil.

"Haw-aw!" Arielle, the daughter he'd sired on Fleur's grandmother and who everyone in the know politely pretended wasn't his for various reasons ranging from safety to convenience, babbled loudly, butchering his name beyond recovery. She toddled over to him in the typical uncoordinated walk of very young children, nearly falling twice but still smiling a big, mostly toothless smile the whole time.

Alright, so it wasn't exactly a sinister evil, objectively speaking. Harry was just being sarcastic in his thoughts because he couldn't muster together the ability to do 'baby talk'.

Aurélie was of course right behind her newest daughter and beaming at him happily. Harry wasn't sure if she'd stopped smiling since the birth.

"Hello." Harry said awkwardly. He still hadn't gotten the hang of interacting with babies.

He briefly lamented that his Notice-Me-Not spell had been so weak, just enough to divert people's attention away from him, but not enough for them to forget that he was here. The girls wouldn't have let him get away with using anything that strong, but this one was too weak to reliably keep people away.

Arielle did not notice his awkwardness at all of course and simply lifted her arms.

"Up!" She demanded as imperiously as an eleven-month-old baby could.

Of course she wanted to be picked up. Fleur and Luna and Dora and actually pretty much fucking everyone took sadistic glee in plopping the little girl into his arms at every opportunity. They claimed that he looked adorable with a baby in his arms, but Harry knew the truth. They were amused by his suffering.

Seeing Fleur, Dora and even Aurélie smirking at him, Harry decided to rebel against the demands of the tiny tyrant and levitated her into the air with magic instead of picking her up with his arms.

As he had hoped, the little veela instantly forgot about her desire to be cuddled and shrieked with laughter as she slowly circled in the air.

"Harry." Aurélie said reproachfully, although it was ruined by her obvious amusement.

"She didn't specify what form of 'up' she wanted." Harry insisted, quite pleased with his cleverness.

But the senior veela was determined to see him squirm and only let her daughter float for a minute or so before grabbing her out of the air and promptly depositing her in his arms.

Arielle looked at him as if he was the most fascinating thing _ever_.

"Hi." Harry greeted again, feeling supremely awkward.

The miniature veela made happy noises at having his attention.

 _How the fuck do people handle babies?_ Harry despaired. Arielle was cute and he would even admit to a certain fondness for her, but he was excruciatingly aware of how little actual emotional connection he felt with her.

Some of that could certainly be atributted to his fairly minor role in her life, but it made him wonder if it would be like this even with any children he had with Fleur, Dora and Luna. It made him dread the day that they started getting that 'give me babies' look in their eye, because he didn't feel like parent material.

But the situation was what it was. The girls had already made it clear that there _would_ be babies eventually and he was far too attached to them now to consider returning to bachelorhood. Flat out refusing to procreate wasn't really an option either. Not only would it upset them, it very well might be pointless as well. Fleur was willful enough to stop using birth control and not tell him until it was too late. Luna was harder to predict but she had a way of getting what she wanted. Dora was really the only one that might respect his wishes...but only if the other two weren't telling her to go for it and that he'd forgive them. Which he would, despite his misgivings.

There was nothing he could learn, no skill he could master that would help him in this. He would just have to hope for the best like some kind of simple-minded _optimist._

At least any kids they had would have three mothers, so the situation wouldn't be disastrous even if he did prove to be a bad parent.

But they didn't seem willing to come to his rescue right now, which meant he had to figure out what to do with Arielle on his own. This uncomfortable situation was made even more uncomfortable by the fact that almost everyone around them was now throwing glances and smiles their way. Some of them were even commenting on how cute it was, the bastards.

He resisted the urge to snarl at them to mind their own business. Lashing out due to embarrassment was beneath him.

"Is she that scary?" Aurélie asked mirthfully.

Harry shot her a dirty look. "I just don't know what to do."

"You're doing fine." The senior veela assured gently. "All she wanted was to visit her favorite wizard."

"Right." Harry muttered, returning his gaze to the giggling creature in his arms.

"You want to fly again?" He asked hopefully. Anything was better than standing there like a stump and feeling completely out of his depth.

"Fly!" Arielle cheered, waving her tiny fists around.

"Alright, let's fly." Harry said in relief and started floating the baby veela around again, much to her enjoyment.

"Good job, Harry. One day you will stop being so tense around young children, hopefully." Aurélie patted him on the arm about fifteen minutes later.

"That sure would be nice." Harry replied sardonically, lowering Arielle back into her arms. The mini veela had tired herself out shouting and flailing through the air.

Aurélie's face developed a devious little smirk.

"What is that expression for?" He asked suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing." She replied in a casual way that clearly implied that it was definitely _not_ nothing. "Well, Arielle and I are going to get something to eat now, I think. Say goodbye to Harry, little one."

The baby veela obediently babbled out something that sounded vaguely like a goodbye and they left, leaving a suddenly tired Harry behind.

He suspected that his future was going to involve uncomfortably large numbers of children.

"You're very good with children." Came the absurd statement from behind, as if to mock his woe.

Harry nearly scoffed. He was _terrible_ with children. It was only his ability to read auras and use distractions like that levitation trick that kept him treading water in his interactions with them.

He turned towards the speaker, who happened to be Fleur's little sister, and gave her a sarcastic grin. "I'm just faking it."

"Then you're very good at faking it." Gabrielle replied with her best attempt at an inviting smile as she sat down next to him, her adolescent Allure tickling at his own magic. "You certainly had me fooled."

Harry wanted to sigh. The pre-teen veela was trying so hard and someone had obviously helped her pick out an outfit that showcased her still-developing assets to maximum effect without seeming in poor taste, but it really just made him feel sorry for her and the effort she was wasting.

It wasn't that he was squeamish about her age. No, even aside from the fact that Gabrielle was a veela and played by different rules, Harry had little regard for what others considered to be an appropriate age to start exploring one's sexuality. It might be his own early start on that talking, but he felt that if someone wanted to rush into that kind of thing then they should be free to do so. It would either turn out alright or it wouldn't, but it would be a valuable life experience either way.

It never occured to him to factor in how parents or guardians would feel about it. Not having experienced much in the way of parenting himself, he didn't see what business parents had to dictate their children's lives and that included when they wanted to become sexually active.

Of course, that wasn't an issue with Gabrielle. The issue with her wanting to slip into his bed was that, veela or not, girls that young just didn't do anything for him. Well, not _enough_ at any rate.

She was a very pretty twelve-year-old, but she was still a twelve-year-old. It wouldn't do either of them any favors if he agreed to bed her out of indulgence.

Luna had been gentle and understanding when it became clear that he didn't have the same level of physical attraction for her as he did for Fleur and Dora. She knew that he favored older women, that she'd rushed into things and that it would get better over time, and it had, but _nobody_ was as understanding as Luna. Gabrielle would just be hurt and her confidence damaged if he gave her what she wanted right now, which would in turn upset Fleur.

"I do pride myself on my ability to fake things." Harry drolled. Not enough to risk fucking her though.

Gabrielle giggled. It was a cute, charming sound, but didn't stir his lust like he suspected it was designed to do.

The pubescent veela continued her attempts to seduce him for a good thirty minutes, employing quite a few tricks such as giggling, making various little sighs, pouting, tossing her hair, stretching, leaning into him to give him peeks down her shirt and a few others.

Harry figured that Gabrielle would be offended if she knew that he was clinically dissecting her technique and comparing it to the more refined one of her older sister and the even more polished version employed by their grandmother. It was really quite fascinating, kind of like watching the humble beginnings of a master swordsman or a clumsy young lioness on her first hunt.

Gabrielle eventually moved off, giving him another inviting smile and putting unnecesary amounts of sway into her hips as she walked away.

Harry was about to sigh in relief when he sensed a genuine sinister evil approaching.

"My, my, I was looking at you just now and all I could see was a man drowning in honey." Adrastia chuckled as she sat down in the spot that Gabrielle had just vacated, her rich alto voice as low and mysterious as ever.

 _Have people just been waiting to pounce on me one after another?_ Harry wondered with some consternation.

"That particular honey is a bit young for my tastes." He replied, keeping his tone light rather than belligerent as had been his first impulse. They were trying to make friends or at least firm allies with her after all.

He hadn't been sure how inviting Adrastia over for a purely social event would turn out, but the Black Widow had, not particularly surprisingly, hit the ground running as the saying went.

She'd showed up in a flattering white sundress that contrasted beautifully with her dark skin, the most casual clothing he'd ever seen her in, and greeted both him and the girls with hugs and kisses as if they were the very best of friends and her being invited was completely normal and expected before going to mingle with everyone else. She was so smooth about it that he could see even Andromeda, Penny, Narcissa and Septima second-guessing their prior knowledge about her. Scary woman.

Harry himself had kept an eye on her presence as she moved around. If the regular people felt like grass, then she was definitely the snake in it.

To be fair, he and the girls also had presences that didn't easily meld into the group, being simply too strong, but Adrastia was an altogether more subtle sort of predator.

"I could tell." She chuckled some more and looked at him with a sly smile. "It's the more mature ones that tickle your fancy, isn't it? Is that why I was invited, Harry? Are you planning to have your way with me?"

"Not at all." He countered blandly. "My intentions towards you are purely honorable, I assure you."

"A pity." She pouted. "What are these honorable intentions of yours then?

"For this party they are to show our appreciation of the help you've provided us. For the future...well, that's a secret that you'll only be told if we decide that you can be trusted not to betray us."

"Now you are just being cruel, teasing me so." Adrastia gave him a playful look of reproach, bashfully pressing her arms together and coincidentally also giving him quite a view down her cleavage. "You know I can't resist a secret. Won't you give me at least a little hint?"

Harry looked around as if checking for listeners and then beckoned her closer.

Adrastia leaned in, dark eyes glittering with anticipation.

And Harry whispered into her ear. "No."

"For a moment I forgot who I was dealing with." Adrastia huffed after blinking at him in surprise, trying not to let her amusement show. "You're usually a lot more ornery than this."

"Being ornery hasn't chased you off so far, so there isn't any point in keeping it up."

"It didn't work because I knew that, deep down, you actually liked me."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Adrastia."

"I can think of a few things you could do for me that would help me sleep at night, Ha~rry."

"I _am_ a fair hand at potion brewing. It's not my best skill by any stretch, but I'm good enough to make a sleeping draught or two."

"I was thinking something a little more...physical."

"Ah, you're talking about a massage? I like to think I'm pretty good at those too, but my massages aren't really designed to put women to sleep."

"What _are_ they designed to do then?"

"Why, to keep them awake of course. Sometimes all night long."

"I would love to experience a massage like that. I've never had someone work me over all night long."

"I thought you wanted to sleep?"

"What woman could sleep at the thought of you pawing at her all night?"

"Nice phrasing." He snorted.

"Thank you, I do my best."

They lapsed into silence and Harry wondered if this was how people made friends. Thinking back on his life, Penny was really the only person he hadn't either alienated or slept with and their relationship had drifted mostly into professionalism because they just didn't walk in the same worlds even though she worked for him.

Was it strange that he was more comfortable talking to an unrepentant serial killer that had once targeted him and Sirius than he was to less monstrous people? Adrastia was dangerous and he felt like he always had to be on guard with her, but that was somehow better than struggling to find something to respect in a person.

"We need wine." Adrastia suddenly said.

"Feel free to get some for yourself, but I need to stay sober as a rock for at least the next week." Harry said, shaking his head.

"Why?" She asked curiously. "Birthdays are perfect times to drink."

Harry brielfy considered lying, but eventually decided to share his suspicion that Voldemort was more likely to make some big play around his birthday than he normally would be. It wasn't as if that bit of information could really do him any harm.

"I see." Adrastia said thoughtfully. "Do you think he would attack you here?"

"No." Harry denied. Voldemort hadn't mounted a direct attack on either Hogwarts or the Ministry during the last war, so he was unlikely to attack Spellhaven directly either. "He's more of a hit-and-run kind of guy, letting fear do most of the work for him."

"Will you share the big secret you were tempting me with earlier if I were to find something out?" Her tone might be teasing, but Harry heard genuine curiousity and even a certain _hunger_ in it. Adrastia hadn't been kidding when she said that she couldn't resist a secret.

"It's a bit late for your methods to find anything out if Voldemort is planning anything around my birthday." He pointed out.

"And what about later on?"

"I would certainly be more inclined to, but like I said, we'd really need to trust you first."

"Trust, hmm? And how am I to gain your trust?"

"Give me your blood." Harry quipped.

Adrastia looked at him in shock for a moment before beginning to chuckle, although it rang false to his ears. She wasn't amused, she was angry.

"Only you, Harry." She said, still chuckling. "Only you would be so brazen as to ask for such a thing. Blood feuds have been started and terrible oaths sworn for lesser insults."

"You asked." Harry shrugged. She was right though. Even Voldemort had never asked such a thing from his followers as far as he knew. He had more insidious means of keeping control of them, but they were less absolute.

Adrastia dropped the playful persona and peered at him with a cool calculation that made Harry instinctively close off his mind even though there was no Legilimency probe.

"So you could not trust me unless you held power over me?" She asked, her tone now much colder.

"Some things are too dangerous to be done without insurance."

"Too dangerous to even say what I would be trading my freedom for?"

"If I told you and you refused, I'd have no choice but to kill you and I'm sure that would end messily."

A small smirk cracked Adrastia's cold expression. "It would indeed."

They lapsed into silence again. Harry was content to enjoy it while Adrastia considered every angle.

"Your young honey is coming back." Adrastia observed after a couple of minutes.

"Huh?" Harry looked to see that Gabrielle was indeed coming back and she was carrying a glass of something with a smile.

"So she is." He sighed. She was trying so hard. Was this how women felt when they gave guys a pity fuck? If it was, then Harry didn't grasp how anyone could look at themselves in the mirror after receiving it. He couldn't possibly take away Gabrielle's pride like that, but it was going to be an awkward few years before she was old enough to succeed in seducing him.

"I will leave you to it." Adrastia said, getting up.

"Alright, I'll see you around then." Harry nodded.

"Perhaps." She replied noncommittally and he knew that she would be giving what they discussed a lot of thought.

XXXXX

 _August 1st, 2018, very early in the morning. The waters around Spellhaven._

Lord Voldemort looked around himself with a sense of satisfaction, seeing the hundreds of Death Eater garbed wizards and witches ready to do his bidding.

It had been a difficult year. Rookwood had suggested that Harry Potter's quetzalcoatl might be the one tracking them, based on some legends of the creature that the former Unspeakable had researched. The two of them had needed to practically invent a whole new set of secrecy spells to counter _that_ little problem. Fortunately he had some experience with that, seeing as Dumbledore had a phoenix. Not the same, but similar enough.

Furthermore it had taken a great deal of patience, careful planning, restraint and gathering of resources to prepare this assault on Harry Potter's domain, as well as keep it secret, but it was necessary. It was obvious to the Dark Lord that his ambitions would never be realised while his prophesied nemesis yet lived.

Deep down, so deep that he was barely aware of it himself, he was also very afraid. Harry Potter was much stronger than Tom Riddle had been at the same age and Voldemort was quietly terrified of letting him get any stronger. He had to kill him before that happened. That had been the whole point of trying to do it when he was a baby, but that had backfired spectacularly.

"Everything is ready, Master." Bellatrix said eagerly, her mad eyes shining brightly. "Should we attack?"

Voldemort permitted himself a small smile. Keeping Bellatrix on a short leash for the past year had been trying, but there was no faulting her enthusiasm or devotion.

"Not yet, Bella. Let the dementors go first."

The order was given and the wraiths flew forward like a dark cloud. Voldemort and his minions followed a ways behind.

They were still some distance away when they saw a large dome of magic go up around the town of Spellhaven.

"Slamming the door in our face? How rude." He said softly, but his magic carried the words to everyone. "Let's go knock it down, shall we?"

"Yes, Master!" Bella said gleefully, all set to race off and start pummeling the ward.

"Not you, Bella." Voldemort said warningly. "You have a special mission, remember?"

"Of course, Master." The insane witch said contritely. "I apologise, my eagerness to do your will got the better of me."

Voldemort resisted the urge to sigh irritably at her attention span, or lack thereof. Bellatrix made for a decent team leader and marvelous attack dog, but she had a bad habit of getting carried away. At least she was loyal. And amusing.

Around them, hundreds of others streamed forward to batter down the ward.

XXXXX

A distinctive alarm chime sounded throughout the cháteau, causing four sets of eyes to snap open.

Harry and the girls had been in a deep state of meditation, substituting it for sleep so that they could stay alert in case they needed to act quickly.

The chime was unexpected however. It meant that something had triggered the perimeter ward around the island, a _lot_ of somethings given the volume and frequency of the chime.

" _What is it, what is going on?_ " Etal hissed, both curious and annoyed. Unlike them, he had actually been asleep and didn't appreciate being woken up.

Harry stood and walked to the balcony, peering out into the night. The Full Moon had been less than a week ago, so it was still fairly bright, but he couldn't see anything. He didn't need to though, only one thing in this world had that distinctive feeling to it.

"There's a chill in the air, a familiar one." He said grimly, speaking in English to answer both the quetzalcoatl and the girls. His expression quickly turned into a scowl as he remembered telling Adrastia less than twelve hours ago that Voldemort wouldn't mount a direct attack on Spellhaven. He'd been wrong apparently. "We have dementors incoming, gear up."

They had been meditating fully dressed in the expectation of trouble, so it took only moments to throw on their basilisk hide coats.

" _Etal, could you go take a look at how many enemies there are?_ " He hissed. The quetzalcoatl's peculiar wind-based nature would let him slip through the wards as easily as a phoenix flamed through them.

Etal hissed back a confirmation and zipped outside.

The four of them didn't wait for his return and immediately started making their way downstairs. They'd barely made it out of the room when Harry sensed the Broom Disruption Field and the outermost war ward going up. He was glad once again that the girls had convinced him to hire Kincaid. The American former Auror was competent and knew when to wait for orders and when to act on his own initiative.

It wouldn't do any good against the dementors, who could only be blocked by physical barriers, but it would allow them to deal with the soul-devourers without interference.

"You think it will be that bad?" Fleur asked a little later, noticing that they were heading towards the portal mirror that connected to another just like it in Potter Manor, back in Britain. The original idea of evacuating people to Ravenhead had been scrapped ages ago.

"We have to assume that he's throwing everything he has at us if he's come here." Dora answered.

Harry paid the brief conversation no mind as he opened up the curtains that hid the portal mirror. It was a huge and ugly thing, a solid five meters wide, that had both Fleur and Narcissa complaining about aesthetics. They had complained even more when he had insisted on remodeling the front door and entrance hall to be just as massive, but both he and Dora had put their foot down on that one. If they were going to have the portal inside the cháteau, then narrow hallways leading to it were a big no-no.

Speaking of Narcissa, the blonde witch was standing on top of a stairway in her silk night robe and looking more than a little alarmed.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"We're under attack, get dressed." Harry replied curtly. It would be her job to take charge on the other side and keep people from doing anything too stupid.

Narcissa hurried to obey.

By the time that the four of them made it out the front door, the temperature had started dropping noticeably and the beginning of a dark cloud was already forming over the island as the dementors' combined aura did its work on the weather. There was a reason that Azkaban only had two seasons, those being this winter and next winter.

The soul-devourers were fortunately not terribly fast even though they could fly and had not yet reached the residential area, but they were closing in.

Etal zipped back at that point, halting his momentum in mid-air in ways that should be physically impossible.

" _How many?_ " Harry asked.

" _Hundreds, all flying on brooms. The strong snake smelling/tasting wizard is also here._ " Etal replied shortly.

"Crap." Harry muttered. How the fuck had Voldemort duped so many people into joining up with him in just one year? The outer ward wouldn't hold up for long against that level of assault. Voldemort wouldn't even have to cast a Spellshear at it, meaning that he wouldn't need to expend any of his own strength before their inevitable showdown.

As if to mock his thoughts, the ward began to flare with spell impacts, just a few at first but more and more with every moment until there were hundreds of them.

He cast a variant of the Sonorous Charm on himself, one that was designed to project his voice all over the island instead of just increasing volume.

" **Everyone wake up!** " He said normally, but his voice boomed loudly and seemingly came from everywhere. " **This is Harry Potter speaking. The island is under attack by hostile forces. Non-combatants are to evacuate immediately, take only what you need with you. Combatants are to escort them and keep order. Anyone capable of casting a Patronus should do so immediately.** " He repeated his message, just in case anyone had been too out of it by the abrupt wake up call to understand it properly the first time.

The girls had by now cast their own Patroni, sending out a trio of glowing ravens. The forms that their Patroni took was a rather unsubtle indicator of the close relationship between them.

"We should split up for now." Dora said assertively, already floating in the air. "I'll go that way." She said, pointing southwards.

Fleur and Luna voiced their agreement and also rose into the air.

" _Please go with Luna and watch out for her._ " Harry asked of his scaly friend.

" _Very well._ " Etal agreed easily. He was fond of Luna as well.

"Be careful." Harry said to them all before they flew off and then focused on making his own Patronus. Even all this time after learning it, that spell remained one of the more problematic ones in his repertoire for the simple reason that it required more than knowledge, skill and willpower from the caster. His disposition was naturally dour and poorly suited for it.

Still, it was definitely easier to cast now than it had once been. He had so much more tethering him to this world now than he did when he first learned it, so much more that he wanted to protect. He focused on the love he felt for his girls, their shared future that he would not allow to be taken away, the home they had built with their own hands that was now under threat.

The Patronus animal was usually real-sized, but Harry made his the size of a skyscrapper. It didn't make it any more powerful, but that wasn't the point. Seeing the giant spectral guardian would give people something to move towards.

And it worked. People were now clearly converging towards a single location and the giant raven Patronus flew circles around the area, scattering any dementors it encountered.

Harry was once again grateful that he hadn't been more stubborn about the island's security. Everyone was moving quick and with as much organisation as could be expected in this situation. Kincaid had insisted on running a few evacuation drills after being put in charge of Spellhaven's defences, something that Harry knew he would have never gotten around to doing. The man could be heard bellowing orders in the distance even now.

Still, not all was well. Even with more than twenty Patroni in the air, it wasn't enough to cover everyone because they were too spread out and aside from those cast by the four of them, none of them were really strong enough to hold back so many dementors. Harry clearly saw them swarm over several groups of people that weren't sufficiently protected and felt their voices go silent. Then things went further sideways.

The ward finally collapsed under the assault, sending out a sort of spiritual shockwave that everyone immediately perceived as a loss of protection. Half a dozen Patroni immediately winked out of existence in response.

Moments later, all of the island's veela and their assorted lovers rushed out of the commune in a single large group. The veela alone numbered nearly a hundred at this point and that much Light attuned magic was completely irresistible to the dementors.

"Shite." Harry grunted to himself and started flying in that direction as well, his huge raven Patronus doing the same. He saw that several among their number were casting Patroni or at least Patronus mist, but they were far too weak to fend off that many dementors.

Halfway there, he felt the next ward going up, once more preventing the Death Eaters from adding to the chaos.

It was a strange sort of blessing that the veela group had young children and pregnant women among their number. They refused to leave anyone behind and moved only as fast as the slowest among them, which kept them huddled close together. Thanks to that, Harry was able to command his raven Patronus to fold its glowing wings around all of them.

Harry had long known that the dementors were only partially physical, as indicated by the fact that you needed magic to even see them. It had been a long time since he had last encountered one of them and his insight into had grown a great deal since then. Now that he was this close to them, his sight breached the darkness of their being and perceived the truth within.

Desensitised to the draining aura of despair they exuded by years of dabbling with the Dark, he strode towards the nearest dementor fearlessly and plunged his hand into its chest.

There were no words to describe the sensation that engulfed his hand. It was like reaching outside of the world. The cold was familiar though. It was the same cold that claimed a place in his own soul, the endless, greedy chill of the Void. His magic began turning Dark due to the direct exposure and his body, linked directly to his magic due to his runes, began to grow cold.

And in the darkness, Harry's grip closed around something that had neither mass nor form, but was undeniably _there_.

The dementor had once been a wizard, one who had delved too deep into Dark and been lost to it, now he was reduced to an empty husk, a conduit for the Void to sate its hunger. It retained a faded echo of its humanity, but had no true will of its own. Hunger was all it knew and would follow anyone that offered to sate it or bow to the threats of anyone that could deny it.

Harry needed to do neither. Why should he, when he held in his hand the lynchpin of the dementor's existence? The nebulous state of limbo that it existed in might have made the dementor invulnerable to any kind of conventional physical or magical attack – you couldn't close a wound in the world by attacking it after all – but it also left what remained of its original soul completely exposed.

"Hollow vessel in the form of man." He intoned with the finality of a death knell. "Heed the will of your new master."

The dementor did not resist the enslavement. It couldn't have even if it had the will required to do so, not with Harry reaching inside it.

The other dementors froze for a moment and then began to flee. While not truly intelligent and not really valuing their freedom, they retained an instinctual understanding that losing it would mean being unable to sate their endless hunger without permission.

Harry wasn't content to just let them go however. He pulled his arm out of the dementor he'd just taken control of and flew towards the next and then the one after that. He managed to get six of them before they were too scattered to be worth the bother.

The six dementors he'd enslaved waited placidly for instructions.

"Go eat the people attacking the wards. Touch no other." He ordered.

The dementors obeyed instantly. Their higher reasoning might not be anything to write home about and one wizard looked the same as another to them, but they did have an uncanny ability to comprehend the meaning behind words in a similar manner to the way Marae and Etal did. They knew exactly who they had been ordered to eat.

"Harry?"

He turned at the amazed inquiry, finding himself face-to-face with a wide-eyed Aurélie. She was holding her crying daughter and looking awed, disbelieving and even slightly afraid.

Harry felt an irrational urge to kill her, but he shook it off. He was well familiar with what over-exposure to Dark did to him by now.

"You should go." He said simply, taking deep breaths and trying to bring himself back into balance.

Aurélie's face took on a stubborn cast that reminded him a great deal of Fleur and he knew that she was about to do the exact opposite of what he'd suggested.

Sure enough, she handed the wailing Arielle over to Fleur's mother and drew her wand.

"You think I will let you stand alone?" She asked challengingly. "This is our home too."

This spurred another twenty or so veela, nearly a quarter of their total population on Spellhaven, and perhaps fifteen of their human lovers to step forward, either out of shame or pride. Some of them were part of Spellhaven's militia, but not all. He hoped that the ones who weren't had at least some skill with combat magic or else they would be more of a hindrance than a help. Still, they weren't really in a position to turn anyone down.

Something had to be made clear though.

"Alright, but don't hesitate. Fight to kill." The enemy was too numerous for pussyfooting.

"Of course." Aurélie looked at him as if he'd just stated something blindingly obvious.

Fleur, Dora, Luna and Etal flew back in at that point.

"You scared away the dementors, Harry." Luna said over the rapid French conversation Fleur was having with her family.

"Typical." Dora snorted, which made Harry smirk. "Now what are we going to do? That ward won't last much longer and we're seriously outnumbered."

Harry frowned in thought. Things were much improved now that the dementors weren't causing a panic anymore, but the situation was indeed still dire. There were still the sphinxes to consider, but the lion hybrids were anything but stupid. They wouldn't reveal themselves to an airborne enemy that they could do nothing against.

"We need to thin out their numbers and ground them." He determined.

"Any ideas on how we're gonna do that?"

Harry glanced at the dark clouds brewing above them. "One or two..."

XXXXX

Voldemort had been a bit surprised when his minions ran into a Broom Disruption Field. Nobody used that ward anymore, on account of it being nearly useless. The enchantments on brooms were generally too solid to be messed with passively.

Although he had to admit, as he saw several of them fall into the dark waters below, that it was still good against very poor fliers or those with old and beaten up brooms. The others were only slightly slowed and had a little more trouble maneuvering, but that was all.

As the ward went down, Voldemort silently chided his enemy for making it so big. Harry Potter had tried to protect everything and would now be paying for it.

Seeing the second one go up mere seconds after the first fell made him frown. Perhaps his nemesis was more sensible than he'd thought, although that kind of ward layering was very expensive.

Seeing the dementors flee so quickly elicited another frown. Seeing a handful actually come out and begin attacking his followers made him blink in surprise. That was unusual behavior for dementors. If they were driven off they normally just left the area. How had Potter convinced them to switch allegiance in the middle of a battle?

Time enough to ponder that later, right now he had to do something about the fact that they were attacking his forces.

Voldemort couldn't conjure up a Patronus to save his life. He'd never even tried to learn the spell and simple fear of death wasn't enough to cast it anyway, which was the only emotion he had that was even close to suitable for powering it. Having a fractured soul didn't help either.

But there were other ways of handling dementors.

With a twirl of his wand, the Dark Lord bound the six of them in heavy conjured chains, weighed down by an even heavier anchor. Conjuration wasn't his favored branch of magic by a long shot, but he was still better at it than almost anyone.

The dementors sank into the sea the same as anything weighed down by over half a ton of metal. Their draining aura would eventually free them, but not in time for it to matter.

For the next couple of minutes, Voldemort watched his servants batter down the second ward. He could have shattered it easily himself of course, but he enjoyed the thought of Harry Potter cowering under it as it was slowly overwhelmed.

He smiled when it finally went down. Then he scowled as another, smaller and stronger, went up. This was starting to get irritating.

"Can I go now, Master?" Bellatrix asked like an impatient child.

"Yes, now you can go." Voldemort said magnanimously. "And don't forget to burn everything on the way."

"Thank you, Master!" Bella shouted joyously as she sped forward, her high-end broom and significant skill with it allowing her to overcome the Broom Disruption Field easily. Nearly a hundred others followed behind her.

Had Voldemort been slighly more human, he may have felt the urge to roll his eyes. As it was, he just ordered several other teams to advance.

Above them, the dark clouds began to flash with discharges of lightning.

XXXXX

"That's the last one we can sacrifice without a fight." Dora said grimly when the second ward went down. If the third one fell now, they couldn't raise the fourth without cutting off a lot of people from their escape route.

"I know." Harry replied, but did not move or look at her. His focus was entirely on his spellwork.

Harry had been fascinated by lightning from a very young age, when he had seen the flashes of light in the clouds and the boom of thunder as it shook the house at #4 Privet Drive. That fascination was at least partially fuelled by how his obese cousin bawled fearfully in the arms of his mother and how the even more obese Vernon Dursley rushed about the house, frantically unplugging everything. Seeing his abusers so cowed by a force of nature had appealed greatly to the resentful child he'd been at the time and made him look upon storms fondly ever since, the more violent the better.

When he'd learned about his magic, one of the very first things he wanted to do was find a way to control lightning. That proved to be a lot more difficult than he had imagined, but Harry didn't care. It was _lightning_ , it was worth the effort.

It was an ambition that had taken a bit of a backseat over the years, but it was never forgotten. Even when he grew out of the phase where flashy displays were considered the end all and be all of magic, it still lingered in the back of his mind and he eventually returned to it once his general knowledge of the magical arts became deep enough to attempt it again.

In the proccess, Harry had become something of an expert on the topic of lightning and storms as understood by mundane science.

That knowledge was being put to use now as his spells created conditions more favorable for a lightning storm. An invisible air vortex was created to suck in heat energy and water vapor and funnel them up into the clouds. Further spells were cast up at the clouds to agitate the movement of the tiny water and ice particles within, increasing the speed at which the massive electrical charge required for a lightning strike was generated.

Harry was vaguely aware of what was going on around him while he was doing this, but none of it really registered as important. The Raven Host had assembled, the island's militia was organised, the evacuation was proceeding steadily and outside the wards, Spellhaven was burning.

It was only Luna's sound of distress that brought his focus out of the clouds.

"They're burning the forest!" She said in a horrified tone. "We have to go help Marae, she's hurting!"

That startled him enough to bring him back to the here and now. Indeed, Harry could now feel Marae's pain and hear her crying for help.

"Go, but _be careful_." He said. "This is almost definitely an attempt to lure us out of the wards. They don't know how strong you are, but don't let them swarm you and don't hold back."

"And what are you doing to do?" Dora asked shrewdly, already rising into the air.

"What else?" He retorted wryly. "Someone has to keep Voldemort busy."

"Harry, you said you wouldn't fight him alone!" She shouted back.

"Etal will be with me and he'll want to talk first anyway. They always want to talk first." Harry knew this because he kind of wanted to talk first too. Maybe it was a failing of powerful wizards everywhere, this ridiculous urge to debate philosophy with one's enemies instead of killing them? At least he could claim that he was doing it to keep Voldemort out of the fight. "Still, I won't turn down help if you finish on your end first."

"Fine, but take your own advice and be careful." The metamorphmagus near-ordered. Then she swooped in pulled him into a kiss. "For luck."

"So cliché." Harry found the time to quip before receiving another two kisses for luck.

" _I do not understand how doing that is supposed to increase your luck._ " Etal complained as soon as they flew upwards.

" _It is meant as a final show of affection between lovers who know that they are going into danger and that one of them may soon die, they only say it is for luck to avoid acknowledging the possibility of death._ " Harry explained.

" _Humans are so strange._ " Etal complained some more.

They had cleared the ward barrier at that point in their upward flight, just in time to see the corkscrewing trail of a Spellshear slamming into it and bringing it down.

 _Looks like Voldie got impatient. Crap._ Harry looked down and quickly assessed the situation.

There were black-robed figures swarming everywhere, throwing fire on everything within reach. Quite a few had already dismounted their brooms, no doubt due to the strong winds generated by the brewing thunderstorm. Many of them were heading towards the column of fleeing people now that the third ward was down, but Harry didn't have time to do anything about it. The Raven Host and the island's militia would have to fend them off on their own despite being significantly outnumbered. Fortunately, he could also see the sphinxes rushing in to flank the Death Eaters, so they wouldn't be alone. The fourth ward would go up as soon as the last of the evacuees were behind the ward line, which should be relatively soon, then it would be just a matter of fighting to run these invaders off.

Harry knew that it was incredibly callous of him to think that even if they were defeated here, he and the girls could easily escape by simply flying away. All the other fighters would die or worse, including Fleur's grandmother and one of her cousins, but they would survive just fine as long as they weren't killed outright.

He put it out of his mind. Voldemort wouldn't be winning this day.

" _Come on, we have to hurry now._ " He said.

" _You are the slow one._ " Etal retorted petulantly and flew circles around him just to prove it.

" _Not all of us can be one with the wind._ " Harry shot back. The quetzalcoatl could fly upwind and not be bothered no matter how strong said upwind was. His reverse engineered flying spell still needed some tweaking before it would be anywhere near as efficient, but he doubted he would ever be as at home in the air as the feathered serpent.

Soon they reached the clouds and Harry plunged in without hesitation while Etal stopped just below. It was freezing cold and the constant booming of thunder was deafeningly loud, but Harry pushed those distractions away.

Magic was a peculiar thing. It always carried the imprint of its caster, which was the reason why enchanted objects sometimes seemed to have a personality and why complex feats of magic worked by more than one caster could mutate strangely.

Harry had noticed this, examined it, studied it and learned to use it deliberately.

He did this now, spreading his magic outwards, weaving it into the storm and giving it a pseudo-sentience. The storm now carried a piece of him within it.

"Creation of my will, listen to the great word; fulfill your purpose and cast your lightning against these invaders!" Harry said firmly, using the words as a vessel for his intent.

Life certainly wasn't lacking in irony. Harry had long ago discarded spell incantations as being unnecessary, only to later discover that there was power in words after all, albeit not in the way that the average wizard thought.

Spell incantations were mostly just a trick to focus the mind on the task at hand and indeed had no power in and of themselves, but there was something more subtle beneath. When a wizard spoke, his intent was brought out of the realm of thought and given presence in the physical world. This happened even when someone with no magic spoke, although their words had no tangible power then. Nobody could lie to Harry since he had realised this. He could hear the falsehood in speech, no matter how good a liar someone was.

This knowledge had come, bizarrely enough, from Harry's study of Parseltongue and his animagus given ability to speak to corvid bird species. He hadn't been content to just use those abilities and leave it at that. No, he wanted to know the how and why of them, so he kept digging and digging until he found the common root.

It wasn't a well defined magical talent like Parseltongue, but it was the gateway and foundation to many similar abilities. He had already learned how to speak to canines, several other bird species and some rodents. One day he hoped to be capable of understanding any human language without needing to actually learn it.

But there was more to it than that. Inanimate objects and natural phenomena could also be spoken to, if you knew how. Wood and stone, wind and water and fire, a wizard could speak to these things. If casting spells was imposing your will on the world, this was asking it for a favor. Far less taxing on the wizard and impossible to dispel precisely because it _wasn't_ a spell.

He was far from having complete mastery of this, but the storm was of his own making and that gave him power over it. It would listen.

And it did. Harry felt the storm regard him for a moment and then turn its attention to those below. He didn't wait for it to begin pelting the Death Eaters with its lightning and plunged downwards again, collecting Etal on the way and making for the powerful presence of Voldemort.

The Dark Lord was placidly hovering in the air, seeming content to observe the battle below without joining in himself. He was alone, which Harry found rather unusual. Had he really sent _all_ of his minions into the attack and left nothing in reserve?

"Harry Potter." Voldemort said in greeting once he came close enough, his soft voice easily carrying over the wind.

"Tom Riddle." Harry returned in the same tone of voice.

Voldemort looked momentarily annoyed at the use of his birth name, but his expression cleared quickly.

"I hope I didn't come at a bad time." He said faux solicitously.

"Not at all, although you really should have called first. We would have prepared a proper welcome for you." Harry replied faux graciously.

The two powerful wizards let the silence between them drag on for a few seconds. The tension between them was so thick that even the rain that had just begun falling seemed to avoid them. Even the near-constant booming of thunder as bolts of lightning arced from the dark clouds above seemed muted, so oppressive was the atmosphere.

Harry noted with some consternation that his enemy had cast a defensive spell over himself that would prevent lightning from striking him, sort of like a very specialised Notice-Me-Not. So much for that vague hope.

"Will you not introduce me to your companion?" Voldemort asked.

Harry raised an eyebrow and then shrugged.

"Voldemort, meet Etalpalli the Quetzalcoatl. _Etal, this is the Dark Lord Voldemort, born Tom Marvolo Riddle._ " He finished the entirely out of place social ritual in Parseltongue.

" _A pleasure to meet one such as yourself._ " Voldemort hissed courteously.

" _I know._ " Etal hissed back aloofly.

"Rather full of himself, isn't he?" Voldemort directed the question to Harry, actually sounding amused.

"I think all the girls cooing over him may have gone to his head." Harry agreed.

Another bolt of lightning interrupted their conversation, as well as Etal's indignant response.

"You seem to be copying me quite a bit, Harry Potter. I could scarce believe it when my servants told me that you were a parselmouth and now I discover that you also copied my flight spell."

"I see magic, I learn magic." Harry shrugged.

"Indeed? But how could you have 'learned' a hereditary ability like Parseltongue?" Voldemort asked.

Harry's smirk was briefly shadowed by a bolt of lightning that struck directly behind him. "It was actually a lot easier than you'd think, but a smart wizard doesn't reveal his secrets."

"Hmm. For someone that has caused me so much trouble, you don't seem terribly eager to fight me, Harry Potter." Voldemort changed the subject. "Are you afraid?"

"Not particularly." Harry shrugged again. "I just can't really summon up much enthusiasm for it. There are so many other things I could be doing right now, yet here I am, having to deal with my home being invaded. Have you ever just sat down to start working on something, only to have your bowels suddenly inform you that you need to go take an urgent shit? That's kind of how I feel about this whole situation."

Voldemort definitely looked annoyed now, unsurprisingly. Another bolt of lightning cut through the sky.

"Why do you even fight me then, when you clearly have no personal stake in it? Stand aside and I will leave you be."

Harry wouldn't have believed that even if he couldn't hear the falsehood in the words themselves.

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep." He chided. "You're set on taking over the world and the path of conquest is like spinning a burning wheel; you can't stop spinning it or you'll get burned...of course, you'll eventually get burned no matter what. In any case, I have my own plans for the world and you are a variable that I could do without, even if actually getting rid of you is turning out to be a tiresome chore."

" _You_ have plans for the world? Truly?" Voldemort asked skeptically. "You seem more intent on cutting yourself off from it and wasting your time frolicking with your many women on this island of yours."

"It isn't time to enact them yet and frolicking with my women is a pleasant way to pass the years. You should get a few of your own and try it sometime, you might discover that world domination is less appealing after a good fuck."

Voldemort looked annoyed again and opened his mouth to say something, but another bolt of lightning cut him off. Then he got an odd look on his face as he stared at something behind Harry.

Harry, being curious and not particularly concerned that his enemy would take advantage of his inattention to get in a cheap shot, turned around to see what the big deal was.

There was a twisting tower of fire raging in the distance.

"Huh, looks like my girls decided to get serious." He commented idly.

"Then perhaps so should we." Voldemort 'suggested', bringing his wand into a ready position. "Are you ready to die, Harry Potter?"

"I alone will decide when my heart and my voice go silent." Harry replied resolutely, his expression becoming focused as he devoted all of his being to the coming battle. "And it isn't going to be today."

"We shall see." The Dark Lord hissed back.

By unspoken agreement, they both took the next lightning strike as the signal to begin.

XXXXX

 _Earlier..._

After separating from Harry, Tonks, Fleur and Luna flew at speed towards the place where scores of Death Eaters were throwing fire on everything.

"There are a lot of them." Fleur commented unnecessarily.

"Enough that we can't let them join the main fight." Tonks added grimly. The defenders were already outnumbered and didn't need this bunch attacking their flank on top of it.

"Will the three of us even be able to stop them?" The veela wondered. Powerful they might be, but a straight up fight against what looked like about a hundred Death Eaters was a bit much.

"We have to." Luna said plainly. She didn't want to lose any more people that she cared about. They were already hurting Marae and would kill her if this kept up, then they'd move on to everyone else.

The wind started picking up rapidly and bolts of lightning began to crack the sky.

"Looks like Harry's finished with the storm." Tonks said with a hint of satisfaction. "That should give them something to worry about."

And it did. The stiff wind combined with the Broom Disruption Field had already been making flying difficult and seeing one of their own get hit with a bolt of lightning was enough for them to decide that solid ground sounded good.

"Now's our chance." Tonks grunted, putting on some more speed. "Fly circles around them and cast area-of-effect spells on their periphery, try to corral them together."

"You two go ahead, I need to put out the fire in the forest." Luna said and flew off.

"Luna!" Tonks shouted after the little blonde and huffed when she was ignored. "She'd better not die on us."

"We had best keep our guests busy then." Fleur said, gripping her wand tightly. All three of them were capable of quite a bit of wandless magic by now, but were still too slow with it to be considered combat viable.

Tonks nodded her agreement and they went on the attack. With the Death Eaters forced to the ground by the wind and the rain and the lightning they now held a distinct aerial advantage and were able to perform strafing assaults without any need to watch anything but the ground. Still, there were so many enemies on the ground that it was a risky proposition nonetheless.

" **THIEVES! DEFILERS! HOW DARE YOU STEAL FROM THE DARK LORD?!** " A shrieking female voice sounded from below, obviously magically enhanced.

Neither Tonks nor Fleur replied, being too busy trying to force the Death Eaters to bunch up into a group, without much success it had to be said. There were only two of them after all and the Death Eaters' lack of discipline often had them running about like headless chickens.

" **TO ME, YOU FOOLS! TO ME! WE WILL NOT FAIL OUR MASTER!** " The same female voice screeched again.

In an instant, all the Death Eaters began converging on the shouting woman.

" **NOW TAKE THEM OUT OF THE SKY!** "

The return fire was far more organised and dangerous this time, forcing Tonks and Fleur to put up defensive spells and land somewhere out of sight. Still, they'd gotten what they wanted, which was to bunch up the Death Eaters.

"Was that your aunt screaming earlier." Fleur asked curiously, knowing of only one notable female Death Eater.

"Sounds just about crazy enough to be Bellatrix alright." Tonks said wryly.

Luna landed next to them, having finished with her self-appointed mission to put out the fires threatening the forest.

"What did we steal from Voldemort though?" She asked in confusion.

"I think she's talking about the flight spell."

"But that's not stealing, that's copying." Luna protested.

"They're almost here." Fleur interrupted, peering at the approaching enemies from the roof of the building they were on. "Are we sticking with the original plan or should we tone it down to make sure Bellatrix survives?"

Tonks pursed her lips, hair briefly shifting to an intense purple as she considered the options they had. Bellatrix was almost guaranteed to have critical information about another of Voldemort's horcruxes, but...

"We can't, there's too many." She said, shaking her head. "We'll just have to, and I can't believe I'm saying this, hope that she survives."

Fleur snorted in amusement, but sobered up quickly. "Let's do this then."

Tonks nodded and began circling her wand above her head in wide, ponderous motions. The wind began coalescing into a distinct tornado shape behind the Death Eaters.

Said Death Eaters halted their advance, unsure of what was going on. The miniature tornado wasn't strong enough to really do any damage after all, so what was the point?

They got their answer when Fleur did her part, channeling a stream of flame into the swirling wind construct and turning it into a twisting tower of fire.

" **SCATTER!** " The presumed Bellatrix shrieked as the contained firestorm bore down on the group.

They obeyed instantly, but the two witches had chosen their location well. There were only so many places for them to go and they directed the firestorm to cut off the most likely escape route, torching nearly two dozen of the Death Eaters.

There was some return fire of course, but that was what Luna was there for. The joint spell consumed all of Tonks' and Fleur's attention, so they needed someone to keep them safe. Her combination of magical shielding and floating debris blocked the sporadic counter attacks aimed at them.

It was only when Bellatrix herself started aiming blasting curses at the building they were perched on that they had to abandon their position and alighting on the next building over. The conjured firestorm lost cohesion almost immediately as a result and sputtered out in an incongruously anti-climactic manner.

" **The Dark Lord has bid me to kill you, Niece!** " Bellatrix sounded off again, this time not shouting but cackling gleefully. " **You and the other two sluts.** "

"What a shrill woman." Fleur muttered irritably.

Tonks decided to reply this time, putting a quick Sonorous on her voice. " **Old Snakeface must be getting pretty desperate if he's sending a nameless nobody like you after us.** " She said, deliberately poking at the fact that Bellatrix had been cast out of the Black family.

" **KILL THEM, KILL THEM ALL!** " Bellatrix howled furiously.

"Too easy." Tonks muttered.

Once again, the Death Eaters instantly obeyed, hurling spells at the trio of witches. Oddly enough, most of the spells were fairly low level and not exactly something that could be classed as 'dark magic'.

The next fifteen or so minutes were a running battle. Tonks, Fleur and Luna had extreme mobility, power, teamwork and the best armor known to magic on their side while Bellatrix still had a significant numbers advantage despite the losses her side had taken so far.

It was a slow grind where Luna would stay on the defense, Fleur on the offense and Tonks would alternate as needed. In this manner, they whittled down Bellatrix's forces while slowly retreating, much to the detriment of Spellhaven's architecture.

They did find the Death Eaters' fanatical assault a bit strange, as the losses they were taking should have broken the morale of any human force, but they didn't think on it too much given that Bellatrix was a known fanatic.

Similarly, they found the Death Eater's choice of spells a bit odd, as curiously few of them used anything particularly vicious. There was no real time to think on that either though, given that these people were trying to kill them.

As the Death Eater numbers dwindled, Tonks, Fleur and Luna were able to abandon their hit-and-run tactics and engage more directly, which caused the enemy numbers to dwindle even more rapidly. Before long, only Bellatrix and a handful of others were left.

"Looks like you won't be killing anyone today." Tonks mocked when it became abundantly clear who was winning this fight.

"DIE!" Bellatrix screamed shrilly, hurling deadly spells at her niece.

She was too far gone to really take note of the fact that she had barely any support left, and what she did have was being mopped up by Fleur and Luna. Taunts had been exchanged over the course of the battle and now she was completely lost to reason. Added to her fanatical loyalty to Voldemort it meant that retreat wouldn't have entered her mind even if she had a way of achieving it. She'd rather die and take at least one of them with her than return in failure.

Tonks easily either blocked or avoided the spells. So easily that even she was surprised, in fact. Had they really become so powerful already that even Bellatrix was not much of a challenge? She was still dangerous of course, but Tonks was not finding herself particularly hard pressed fighting her.

"Were you always this weak?" She taunted.

Bellatrix was close to screaming in frustration at being treated with such casual condescension by a witch more than twenty years her junior, even if a large portion of those years had been wasted in Azkaban.

Bellatrix was so used to being feared that she'd developed an unrealistically high opinion of her own skills and was now being smacked in the face by reality.

True, she was fast and had good reflexes, her disposition was excellent for the Dark Arts and her killing intent always simmered so close to the surface that she could belt out Killing Curses faster than most people could throw stunners. She was counted as one of Voldemort's most dangerous minions with good reason.

But for all of that, she wasn't as powerful as her reputation would suggest. Her true strength had always been in her speed and viciousness, rather than in raw power or repertoire of spells. Magic required understanding, knowledge and will. Bellatrix could only really claim to have the last of those in any significant amount and even that manifested as a fanatical devotion to another rather than as personal strength.

Voldemort had made a dangerous assumption when he'd sent her to kill Harry's women. It couldn't even be called an assumption, as he'd simply taken it for granted that his nemesis would not help them become powerful in their own right, which was what he would have done in the same situation. After all, what kind of madman gave power freely to those best positioned to betray him? Stringing people along with tempting little morsels he could understand, but the thought of freely sharing powerful knowledge was sheer lunacy to him. Even Dumbledore had never trusted anyone enough to raise them up like that and it seemed only logical to Voldemort that if the old man had been that sensible, then surely Harry Potter would guard his knowledge of magic even more jealously.

Incapable of forming emotional attachments, Voldemort did not and _could not_ understand why anyone would act in such a way that was entirely to the benefit of another rather than themselves.

So he had been sure that Bellatrix and those with her would easily be a match for Tonks, Fleur and Luna. He had even considered it overkill, but had assigned her so much backup just in case they had some of their own.

But she wasn't a match for any of them, much less all three. The power disparity was simply too great and much of her reputation came from her cruelty rather than her skill. Added to that, while her sadistic disposition might have been great for throwing out spells filled with malice, it also made her aggressive and reckless and ill-suited for fightning against someone that could force her on the defensive.

"Is that all, _Aunt_?" Tonks sneered after throwing the half-mad witch into a wall.

The metamorphmagus was not normally inclined to this kind verbal 'kicking them while they're down', but the battle had left her feeling more than a bit drunk on her own power.

"I really did expect more from her after all that talk." Fleur added faux sorrowfully, but her eyes were black and gleaming with the same kind of interest that a cat might have for a cornered mouse. She was in much the same boat as Tonks, if not worse. Her own veela nature was even more given to passion of all kinds, including battle lust, than a regular human.

Luna merely nibbled on her bottom lip, much less aggressive than the other two because she'd been playing defense the entire time, but it had also left her jumpy and constantly expecting another threat to manifest.

No amount of intellectual preparation could ever really prepare a person for their first pitched battle. War might be objectively horrible, but it was easy to forget that with the blood rushing in your ears, your heart thundering in your chest and your perception distorted into hyper focus. Worse still was the sense of invincibility and sheer righteousness that came along with it when you were winning against an enemy that wasn't even morally ambiguous, but outright evil. All three of them were still running on a battle high.

Bellatrix painfully picked herself off the ground, then she started cackling again. Hitting the wall had knocked her out of the unthinking rage she'd been in and now she could plan again. Escape was unlikely and direct attack had already proven fruitless, but she might yet get a partial success out of her mission. She could do this one last thing for the Dark Lord.

"She really is crazy." Fleur shook her head in disgust as the woman continued to cackle.

"Little girls, so blind." Bellatrix giggled in an unhinged manner. "You think you've won something here?"

"All your fellow Death Munchers are either dead or out for the count and you're about to be taken prisoner, I'd say that counts as a win." Tonks retorted.

"Fellow Death Eaters? These?" Bellatrix giggled again. "These weren't Death Eaters, just fodder brought here under the Imperius, and you've killed all of these poor, _innocent_ people."

Tonks felt like someone had hit her in the gut with a hammer. It didn't for a moment occur to her that Bellatrix might have been lying, because the odd lack of impact their losses had on morale, the strangely low amount of dark curses and even the instant obedience finally made sense. No wonder they'd been able to carve through them like they were nothing, it had just been ordinary people in Death Eater regalia.

And it was perfectly plausible too. The average person simply did not have the strength of will to resist the effects of the Imperius. All it would take was sending out loyal Death Eaters and have each of them put a few people under it and you've instantly quadrupled your force. Most people would have trouble holding that many under the curse for an extended length of time, but if it only had to last for a day or so...

Fleur and Luna were similarly shocked and all three dropped their guard as the gravity of what they'd done sank in.

Bellatrix seized the opportunity without hesitation.

" _AVADA KEDAVRA!_ " She roared, putting all of her hatred into the curse.

Tonks had just enough time to realise her aunt's game before the Killing Curse struck her dead center and sent her flying backwards.

"NO!" Both Fleur and Luna yelled, blasting Bellatrix back into the wall with enough raw magic to crack it, along with her skeleton.

Paying the now unconscious and severely injured Death Eater no more mind, they ran towards their fallen lover.

"Nymmie?" Fleur asked hesitantly, cupping the metamorphmagus' face.

Tonks coughed and cracked open her eyes.

"Nymphadora!" Luna squealed and hugged her.

"Ow."

"Are you hurt?" Fleur asked worriedly, backing off a bit.

"Just my pride, I could swear I heard Moody screaming 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE' in my head when I got hit." Tonks groaned and sat up, taking a look at her chest, which now sported a distinct circular discoloration. "Basilisk hide saved my arse, but that was fucking scary! I think I actually pissed myself a little."

Despite her words, she was a little bit hurt. The Killing Curse didn't normally have any kinetic energy to it, but hitting basilisk hide had caused some kind of reaction that generated it and her ribs weren't happy about it. Not to mention that she'd smacked her head when she hit the ground.

Both Fleur and Luna laughed, more in relief than in actual humor.

The levity abandoned them quickly as they caught sight of the battlefield and the many bodies scattered across it. Bodies of people that had been brought here against their will by the Imperius Curse if Bellatrix was to be believed.

And no matter how much they would have liked to, they couldn't bring themselves to disbelieve it. Sure, it had been kill or be killed, but these deaths would have sat a lot easier on the conscience if they were actual Death Eaters.

"We should go help Harry." Luna said calmly, choosing to not think about it for now.

The other two were glad for the new direction and quickly agreed, stopping only long enough to tie up Bellatrix and have Kreacher collect her before they flew off.

XXXXX

While his girls were discovering just how strong they'd become over the past few years, Harry was having the opposite experience.

Ever since coming to Hogwarts, he'd been ahead of the curve. Born into a privileged social class, the public giving him credit for his mother's final act, already having years of magical experimentation under his belt before his formal education started, possessing an innate talent for magic, performing rituals that should have by all rights killed him or worse but instead surviving due to a set of truly ridiculous extenuating circumstances and coming out of it with incredible benefits...

Harry had enjoyed almost every conceivable advantage from the start and had not been at all shy about using them. It had been mostly smooth sailing for him, with only a few incidents where he found himself in over his head.

Until now, because Voldemort was _strong._ And old and experienced.

Oh, Harry was quite sure that he was already better than him at actually _being_ a wizard despite the age disparity, but the current contest was about who was the better killer and he was coming up short.

Granted, they'd only exchanged probing attacks so far, but it was already setting the tone of the fight.

"You are slow, Harry Potter." Voldemort noted with a distinct gloating tone as he landed on the roof of a building.

That wasn't true. Harry wasn't slow by any means, but his rejection of a wand did mean that it took him a few extra moments to gather his power for each spell. Against lesser foes it wouldn't have mattered, but against Voldemort it was a serious disadvantage.

Harry landed on another building on the other side of the street and retorted snippily. "I prefer to do things properly rather than quickly these days. I've had some...mishaps with unintended consequences in the past when I rushed things."

Voldemort's red eyes flickered towards his right hand, the one that had been burned when his spell backfired on him.

"You seem to have had quite the exciting life already, for one so young." He commented.

Harry had to smile in a twisted sort of amusement at this ridiculous conversation. "Yes, well...the alternative was to end up as one of the sheep and that would be a fate worse than death."

"There is nothing worse than death." Voldemort argued, sounding as if he truly believed that.

Harry's smile acquired a mocking edge. "Really? What about passive submission to meaningless rules? Would you have been content to live out your life as 'Tom Riddle, Senior Clerk for the Improper Use of Magic Office' or something similar like a good little slave?"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed in response. "The greatness of Lord Voldemort could never be constrained to such mediocrity."

"Then you admit that you'd rather die than be mediocre?"

"I will never die." The older wizard hissed, clearly unwilling to concede that he couldn't have lived that way.

"Even the stars must die." Harry said, looking upwards with another smile. He couldn't see the stars behind the clouds, but he could _always_ feel them. Them, and the infinite darkness between them. "There is no path beyond the scope of Light, beyond the reach of Dark. Is there even any purpose to your actions, Tom Riddle, or are you just an empty shell of flesh and blood, a simmering cauldron of fear and hatred, shackled by falsehood and yearning for something you don't understand?"

Voldemort predictably didn't like that and responded by slashing his wand with an hiss, sending a scything ribbon of malice lashing towards him.

It missed as Harry took to the air, causing the roof he'd been standing on to crumble. He paid no attention to that though, focused instead on releasing the spell he'd formed during their conversation. A blue-purple flame that burned with a wrongness that hurt the eyes to look at roared towards Voldemort, who also took to the air to dodge it.

The Indigo Flame of Change hit the building and burst apart, crawling over the roof ravenously and leaving behind a mass of scaly purple flesh instead of tile.

A great eye opened and blinked up at Voldemort, its lid lined with twisted fangs. Then tentacles shot upwards from around it, one of them managing to snatch the Dark Lord's ankle.

To Voldemort's credit, he reacted with inhuman reflexes in spite of his surprise and quickly cut off the tentacle before it could yank him down. Just in time too. Any later and he wouldn't have been able to deflect Harry's follow-up spell, a whip of more conventional fire.

Harry was already on the move when the counter-attack came, far faster than he could hope to cast. He managed to release a volley of Magic Missiles before having to focus on defending himself from the deluge of flesh-rotting, blood-boiling, organ-rupturing and other nasty curses.

Voldemort was stupidly fast with his wand, throwing out an almost unbroken chain of spells that kept his enemies on the defensive. Harry simply wasn't fast enough to really turn the tables, nor was he so powerful that he could simply overwhelm him. Even the previously cast Magic Missiles didn't keep the Dark Lord's attention for more than an instant.

Fortunately, Harry wasn't fighting alone. Etal had laid low and kept out of sight for now, but he saw the perfect moment to strike while Voldemort was busy hurling a torrent of spells at Harry. The quetzalcoatl knew better than to try coiling around the powerful wizard, but he could certainly break his focus.

With that in mind, he whizzed through the air just behind Voldemort's head, causing the man to flinch and as he sensed the threat pass him by.

Harry took the opportunity to go back on the offensive, freezing the rain around him into sharp icicles and propelling them at Voldemort.

To no avail, unfortunately. Voldemort reacted easily fast enough to defend himself.

The battle once more fell into a lull as the two powerful wizards reassessed each other. It was clear to both of them that the fight was going to be long and drawn out if things continued in this vein.

Both were equally mobile. Harry's senses were more attuned and gave him an almost precognitive idea of his opponent's next action, but Voldemort was no slouch in that department either. Both had too much skill in the Mind Arts to gain any advantage there. Voldemort was faster at casting spells, but Harry had his armor and Etal to help him out.

Still, Harry conceded that he probably couldn't win this one. Sooner or later, Voldemort would manage to score a hit on the speedy quetzalcoatl and then he would have a firm advantage. It was almost enough to make him regret disdaining a wand, almost.

All in all, it was a good thing that he didn't have to win, merely stall until backup arrived. Truthfully, Harry would like nothing better than to fly across the distance and grab Voldemort by the neck, depriving both of them of the ability to cast spells. Unfortunately, that would include flight and would probably earn him a deadly spell to the face before he got even halfway there anyway.

"I've been wondering if you'd mind answering a little curiousity of mine." Harry inquired politely, as if they hadn't just been trying to horribly kill each other.

"It would depend on what has you curious." Voldemort replied reasonably.

"Let's say you succeed at everything. Kill me, kill Dumbledore, kill everyone that opposes you and take over the world." Harry began. "What are you going to do after that?"

"I will rule of course." Voldemort said as if it was obvious.

"Yeah, but have you considered what that actually means in practice? Sure, I expect there's going to be plenty of bowing and scraping, but surely even an egomaniac like you has to get bored of that eventually."

Voldemort scowled at him. "Harry Potter, you are beginning to try my patience."

"Well, prophecy aside, I wouldn't be your enemy if we got along, now would I?" Harry asked sardonically.

"You know the prophecy?" Voldemort jumped on the information.

"Of course I do, Dumbledore told it to me at the end of my first year in Hogwarts. Troublesome thing."

"What does it say?" The Dark Lord asked.

"Not telling." Harry said in his most petulant tone of voice, getting a scowl out of the other wizard. "Anyway, back to the topic at hand. You've conquered the world, everyone is either your loyal follower, dead or a slave too beaten down to resist. What does Lord Voldemort, God-Emperor of Earth, do now that he and he alone is in control of mankind's destiny?"

"God-Emperor of Earth…..I like it." Voldemort said, pleased.

"I thought you might." Harry drolled. "So, what would you do? You've broken humanity's will, there's no governments left to overthrow or even a resistance to fight."

He glossed over the inconvenient fact that the mundanes would sooner glass the entire planet with nuclear fire than let that happen. Voldemort wouldn't listen anyway.

The silence stretched on uncomfortably.

"You have no idea, do you?" Harry finally said, his words a flat statement more than a question.

"My plans are no concern of yours, seeing as you will be dead by then." Voldemort snapped.

"Uh huh." Harry replied skeptically. He knew a deflection when he heard one.

"And what about you?" Voldemort counter-attacked. "You say you have plans for the world. What are they? Expose us to the muggles? Breed with them? Become their servants?"

"Do I really come off as that kind of guy to you?" Harry asked incredulously before shaking his head. "Just because I'm your enemy doesn't mean that my views are diametrically opposed to yours."

"You agree with me then that the muggles are inferior to us?"

Harry nodded easily. "I do. It's obvious enough when you think about it. We have everything that they do and magic on top of it. That being said, this objective superiority only applies on an individual basis and even then only in a general sense. Magicals have more _potential_ , but that often just makes them all the more contemptible for wasting it. As a society, mundanes have achieved more than us, at least in the developed parts of the world. I have no desire to subjugate or destroy them and disrupt the flow of knowledge they are uncovering."

" _Muggle_ knowledge." Voldemort sneered. "What good is that?"

"Knowledge is knowledge." Harry riposted.

"So…what, your 'plan' is to simply let things go on as they are?" Voldemort scoffed.

"For the most part." Harry agreed. "As for what I would change…..well, I'm afraid I can't talk about that just yet. A lot of people would be quite upset with my plans and I'd rather not blab them out until it was too late to do anything about them."

"I've always hated optimists." Voldemort said, his body language regaining its previous hostility.

"What a coincidence, so have I."

And the battle was resumed, the two powerful wizards once more resorting to lethal spells as a means of conflict resolution.

Harry stayed largely on the defensive, only letting loose the occasional bit of offensive magic when Etal gave him an opening. He knew that the girls should be arriving soon and it wouldn't do him any good to take unnecessary risks.

The battle raged from building to building and across the sky, leaving ruin in its wake everywhere. Direct spells gave way to wide area ones, delayed effect ones, traps, unblockables, obscure or self-invented ones.

Harry quickly discovered that he just wasn't ready for this level of magical combat. He could sit on the defensive, but not attack and that was a surefire way to getting beaten down eventually. Although he could see that the blistering pace was draining on Voldemort as well.

In a distant corner of his mind that wasn't fully devoted to survival, he noted that he needed to do something to ameliorate the speed disadvantage of disdaining a wand.

And then another trio of spells shot towards Voldemort and forced him to backpedal in a hurry.

" _Bonjour_ , gentlemen." Came Fleur's silky tones.

"Is this a boys only event, or can us girls throw in too?" Dora added.

"Hello, Harry!" Luna beamed, sounding entirely too cheerful for the situation.

"Girls." Harry greeted, amused by their entrance and grateful to see them unhurt…although that circular mark on Dora's chest looked like the result of a powerful curse. "Finished with your end?"

"Yep, we even bagged my crazy aunt." Dora nodded.

Harry grinned. "Excellent."

"So, Bellatrix has failed me." Voldemort hissed coldly.

"Now that's not fair." Harry chided. "It's not Bella's fault that she's trash compared to my girls."

Voldemort glowered.

The battle exploded again practically without warning as the Dark Lord tried to get in a cheap shot. To no avail, as none of them had let their guard down.

With it now being four on one, plus Etal, it was Voldemort who found himself on the defensive. Being bombarded with spells from so many sides was too much even for him, no matter how strong and fast he was.

"This isn't over, Harry Potter." He hissed when he managed to get a little breathing room and rocketed into the distance.

"Thank you so much for that keen observation, Captain Obvious." Harry snarked at the retreating Dark Lord's back.

"Harry, we've got something we need to tell you." Dora said with a grim sobriety that set off alarm bells in his head.

Harry looked at the three girls and noticed that they all had a distinctly guilty mien about them.

"What is it?" He asked apprehensively. What the hell had Voldemort pulled that he hadn't noticed?

XXXXX

 _Later._

Harry watched as the bodies of the dead were dragged off and the wounded recovered.

Spellhaven was severely damaged and there were bodies lying in the mud all over the place, ranging from silver-haired veela to tawny sphinxes. The vast majority of the bodies were dressed in Death Eater garb however.

Fleur was off talking to her grandmother, who he noticed now had her arm in a sling. Dora and Luna were sorting out the prisoners, trying to separate Imperius victims from actual Death Eaters.

He didn't have to hear what they were saying to notice the defeated set of their shoulders. The real Death Eaters had mostly bugged out when the battle started going against them, using their Imperiused fodder to cover their retreat.

A Pyrrhic victory if ever there was one.

"You cheeky motherfucker." Harry swore to himself. This was going to put such a stain on their reputation that it was unlikely to wash off anytime soon. He could already imagine the politicians gleefully rubbing their palms together, plotting all the ways they could feign outrage and milk this shitstorm for all it was worth.


	46. Chapter 46

**Special thanks go to Joe Lawyer for being a great beta, especially for this chapter since it's Christmas.**

XXXXX

 _Auguest 1st, 2018. Spellhaven._

"In conclusion, we have eighty-eight dead. Two Raven Host, nineteen of the island's militia, five sphinxes and sixty-two non-combatants. The attackers lost one hundred and seventy-three. The numbers on the wounded are still coming in, but we can expect there to be at least twice as many as the dead." Penny reported in an admirably even tone given the situation, but there was still a hint of tremble in it, even hours after the action was over.

Harry nodded broodily, looking over the island. Stories never did mention the aftermath of battles, probably because it was a dull, depressing and altogether unpleasant time.

"The...prisoners...are asking to be released." Penny went on, noticeably uncomfortable.

"Not yet." Harry shook his head. The girls had taken it upon themselves to sort the real Imperius victims from the fakers, their Legilimency was good enough to spot a liar as long as they didn't know Occlumency.

Moreover, he still had to put as positive a PR spin on this as possible, and that meant he couldn't release a bunch of people that would start blabbing who knows what to the first person that cared to listen. Speaking of which...

"Did Narcissa arrange things with the reporters yet?"

"She's still contacting a few I think, but the meeting has already been set for five o'clock."

"Two hours from now." Harry muttered. "Fine."

He really didn't want to talk to any reporters, but there wasn't much choice in the matter. If Voldemort had the intelligence of a brick, he'd have already started spreading rumors about what had happened and a silence from him would just give people room to make the situation sound even worse than it was. That was trouble they didn't need, so he was holding a sort massed interview and would later on give a statement on the relatively newly established Magical News Network, the magical world's first international media outlet.

It was times like this that he actually sort of envied Voldemort. His reputation was already as black as it got, the only way he could get any more notorious is if he violated a parley agreement or something. No matter how it was presented, Harry was going to come off worse in this exchange simply because of that. That was doubly true because of all the politicians that stood to benefit from having Harry's reputation darkened.

"Do you have any estimates on what this is going to cost us in financial terms?" He asked.

"Not yet, but it's safe to assume that it'll be a lot." Penny sighed.

"Whatever it is, add the expenses of buying up whatever is left of the basilisk hide we sold a few years ago to it." Harry ordered.

Penny blinked in surprise. "Harry, that stuff could be ten times as expensive by now, depending on the demand versus the supply." She warned.

"Doesn't matter." He shook his head. "It saved Dora's life and I'd rather be out of gold than out of a girlfriend." Especially since he had an effectively unlimited amount of gold now.

In hindsight, he shouldn't have sold a single scrap of that hide to begin with. It wasn't the first time that one of his past decisions looked decidedly stupid in hindsight.

"Alright." Penny nodded.

She left soon after that and Harry was left alone with his thoughts for perhaps the first time since the battle had ended.

He was rather disgusted with the whole thing. Not so much by all the death or even by the fact that most of the enemy dead were just poor bastards under the Imperius. He was too good at rationalising and had too few scruples left for that to really affect him in any significant way. Even if they'd known in advance that they were going to be attacked by an Imperiused force, it wasn't like they would have had the luxury of holding back against so many.

No, his disgust was aimed primarily at the actual fighting.

The first thing was that he had assumed that Voldemort wouldn't attack a fortified position solely because he'd never done so in the past. That had been a really dumb assumption on his part.

The second was related to the first. He hadn't fortified Spellhaven nearly enough because he'd figured that all the real fighting would happen elsewhere. Maybe it was time to go ahead with that idle thought of stealing some AA guns or other useful goodies from a military base somewhere? Did those things have a manual? Although he had a feeling that the girls might protest the idea of turning any further attackers into a bloody mist before they got close enough to be dangerous.

Harry personally considered that to be a better alternative to actually fighting them, but he supposed that he could keep that as a last resort option.

Maybe some kind of massive area-of-effect spell instead? A stunner? He did have a few ideas and using the liquid magic to power it would make it workable, even if he would rather use that stuff for other projects.

The third thing was his casting speed. Harry had worked tirelessly to master his magic without the crutch of a wand and it rankled that he was still too slow, but he couldn't afford pride when a few tenths of a second might be the difference between life and death. He would have to start working on a solution to that problem soon, but not right away. There was another idle project that he'd been working on occasionally that he would need to finish first, it would speed up all of his other projects...from a certain point of view.

The last thing that he was disgusted about was the sheer amateurishness of it all. The entire battle had been a mess, more like one tribe of primitive idiots attacking another than a well executed combat operation. It was only to be expected given that neither side had any professional soldiers among them, leaders included, but it still annoyed him to think back and see all the mistakes he'd made.

Although he did take comfort in the fact that Voldemort was unlikely to realise that he had made any mistakes at all thanks to his colossal ego. Who referred to themselves in the third person anyway? House elves, that's who.

XXXXX

Questioning had revealed that Voldemort's Imperiused fodder had been snatched from all over Europe, so there were also reporters from all over Europe here as a result. Given their looks of restrained excitement, Harry figured that they already had some inkling as to why they were invited.

"Thank you all for coming, I know it was rather short notice." Harry said to start things off.

"It was no trouble." Rita Skeeter, the one here on behalf of Magical Britain's _Daily Prophet_ , replied smarmily. It might have even sounded gracious if not for the greedy glint in her eyes. The animagus reporter had been more than pleased with Harry's decision to move out of Britain, but she'd never miss out on a juicy story and this was looking juicy indeed. "I assume this has something to do with the rumors of an attack on Spellhaven?"

Harry nearly snorted. Rumors she said, as if they hadn't seen some of the aftermath on their way to the cháteau. Still, if there really _were_ rumors then that meant that Voldemort had indeed probably sent some people to go drinking in pubs and talk about it or something to that effect.

In the end he merely nodded in confirmation. "It does. In the early hours of the morning, the self-proclaimed Dark Lord Voldemort, born Tom Marvolo Riddle, Hogwarts graduating class of 1945, attacked the island with a force of around four hundred wizards and witches. We fought them off and forced Voldemort to retreat, only to later discover that most of the attackers were victims of the Imperius Curse taken from all across Europe the day before."

There was a nearly unanimous gasp of shock, which Harry thought sounded a tad melodramatic, and then all the reporters started scribbling like crazy.

"Could you give us some idea of casualty numbers, Lord Potter?" A reporter from Poland asked.

"Eighty-eight of the dead were residents of Spellhaven, sixty-two of them non-combatants, including ten children ranging in age from two to thirteen." Harry knew that he needed to present his side as the victim as much as possible. "Among the attackers there were one hundred and seventy-three dead, with a further two hundred and ten currently being held prisoner, most of them wounded to some degree."

"Prisoner?" Another of the reporters spoke up, this one from Germany. "But if they were Imperiused, then why haven't you released them?"

"We are still sorting out who was and who wasn't Imperiused. Those who were will be released as soon as that is done. Pictures of the dead will also be made available so that family members may reclaim the bodies of the slain."

Harry would have personally prefered to turn all the viable corpses into inferi, because you never know when an army of undead might come in handy, but this set of corpses was a tad too high profile. No matter, he could always nip down to Africa or South America and wipe out some petty warlord's personal army if he needed fresh corpses. Even Dora probably wouldn't object to that as long as his targets met certain criteria of shitty behavior.

"You used lethal magic on Imperius victims?" The reporter from France asked accusingly.

Harry barely managed to keep the irritation off his face at the woman's idiotic question.

"We didn't know they were Imperiused at the time of the attack." He explained with forced calm, resisting the urge to add a sarcastic 'obviously' at the end. "Furthermore, even if we _had_ known, what choice do you think we would have had? Eighty-eight of my own people died as it was, that number would have been significantly higher had any of us held back. I regret the deaths among the Imperiused attackers, but my first priority must be to the defense of my own people. I am more interested in learning how it was that none of Europe's Ministries of Magic picked up on this as it was happening. Using the Imperius to gain disposale soldiers is hardly a new strategy for dark lords after all. I warned them that Voldemort was dangerous and I pushed for a joint effort to deal with him, but have so far been met with lukewarm interest at best."

The questioning went on in this vein for a few minutes longer, during which Harry did his best to shove the blame that didn't go to Voldemort for those deaths on the incompetence of Europe's magical governments. That should make any campaign to pin the blame on him more difficult.

He had almost lost hope that any of them would ask about Voldemort's birth name and would force him to open up the subject himself when Skeeter of all people came to the rescue.

"Harry, You mentioned earlier that You-Know-Who was born Tom Marvolo Riddle and graduated Hogwarts in 1945. Could you elaborate on that?" She asked.

"Certainly." Harry nodded. "Are you familiar with the Gaunt family?"

Skeeter thought for a moment and replied with a frown. "No, I don't believe so."

"They were the last direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin and incredibly proud of it. So proud, in fact, that they at some point began to marry brother to sister in an effort to keep their blood 'pure'. This left them dangerously inbred and I suspect that it was magic alone that even allowed their family to survive into the 20th century. That was all it allowed them, however, as the once strong family had been reduced to three people living in a dilapidated shack. Marvolo Gaunt was the father of Morfin and Merope Gaunt. Both men were bitter, violent, half-mad and often vented their tempers on Merope."

"How horrible." Skeeter commented.

"Quite." Harry replied, inwardly wondering if she even realised that she'd sounded gleeful rather than sympathetic. Nasty cunt. "Merope was hardly the picture of mental health either and developed an obsession with the local squire's son, a man by the name of Tom Riddle, who had not a drop of magic in him. As you might guess, this didn't go over well with her extremely prejudiced father and brother."

"What happened?" Skeeter leaned forward, her eyes shining behind her gaudy glasses.

"When Merope was about eighteen, Morfin and Marvolo were imprisoned for assaulting Ministry personnel, leaving her free of them for the first time in her life. One of the first things she did with this freedom was to learn how to brew a love potion to ensnare the man she was fixated on. It worked and Tom Riddle left the woman he was engaged to, married Merope instead and got her pregnant in short order. When Merope was close to giving birth, she'd convinced herself that he loved her in truth and not just because of the potions and stopped dosing him. Predictably, as soon as his mind cleared up, Riddle became horrified by the situation he was in and ran away. Merope, heartbroken and heavily pregnant, managed to stumble to an orphanage on New Year's Eve, delivered her baby there, named him Tom Marvolo Riddle and died."

"You-Know-Who is a halfblood?" Skeeter breathed.

"Yes. Any pureblood rhetoric he was spouting was just a ploy to lure gullible and belligerent purebloods into his service. I suspect that his true objective was not to purge the British Isles of anyone that didn't meet some arbitrary level of blood purity, but to eventually wage war on the mundane world that he irrationally blames for the difficulties of his early life."

"Why didn't we know this sooner?" She near-demanded.

"I only learned it from Albus Dumbledore recently myself." Harry answered, lying a little bit. Well, he _had_ learned it recently if you counted last year as recent. "Why he kept it to himself for however long he'd known it I couldn't say."

Harry figured that this was Dumbledore's penchant for information hoarding at work yet again. Releasing this to the public during the last war, properly slanted of course, could have done a lot of damage to Voldemort's cause. He hoped that revealing it like this would cause the old man a few headaches for that bit of stupidity.

Harry had himself been keeping it quiet since learning it because he'd already ruined most of Voldemort's support base in Britain and had been waiting until his telemirror business spread far enough to ensure maximum impact in other nations. The attack had provided him with a perfect opportunity to get as many people as possible paying attention. Hopefully it would cause at least some current and potential future Death Eaters to rethink their decisions.

Still, talking about Voldemort's origins now was very much closing the barn door after the horse was gone. The perfect opportunity to release this information had come and gone years before Harry was born.

The reporters had some more questions on this topic, which Harry did his best to answer in such a way that Voldemort was painted as an unstable lunatic that would expose them to the mundanes and bring ruin to the entire magical world if not removed and maybe Europe's magical governments should get off their arses and support the Dark Lord's primary enemy, Harry Potter?

"Lord Potter, do you truly believe that you can win against this Dark Lord?" One of the reporters that had been more quiet spoke up. "Not to disparage your powers, but he is much older and more experienced than you."

Harry made a great show of looking thoughtful, although he was inwardly gleeful at the question. He couldn't have contrived a more perfect opening.

"I suppose it is time to talk about this." He said with carefully feigned gravitas. "There was a reason that my parents went into hiding. A prophecy was made which foretold that a child born at the end of July, to parents who had defied him three times, would have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. One of Voldemort's minions overheard that part of the prophecy being made and reported it to him, which was what prompted him to target me since I fit the criteria. There is more to it, but I won't talk about that because Voldemort doesn't know it either and it may play a critical role in his final downfall."

 _Now if Tommy was paranoid enough to attempt murdering a toddler because of a prophecy, that should certainly worry him enough that he'd be desperate to find out the rest of it._ Harry thought to himself, for the moment ignoring the reporters that were rushing to talk over one another. _If I'm right, then the next act will happen in Britain._

About an hour later, he repeated the information he'd given the gaggle of reporters in a prepared speech on the Magical News Network. Not only to ensure that it reached as many people as possible, but also to make sure that idiot politicians couldn't lean on the written media too much and force them to alter the story to suit their own purposes.

He had no fears of the same thing happening to MNN. Luna was technically the owner after all, although in practice she was more of a proxy for him.

They may not officially be married, but Luna had long since folded all of her assets into his own holdings. A show of trust that would be considered insanely uncautious for anyone else, but was completely typical for her. There hadn't even been any opportunity to ask her if she was sure she wanted to do that since she'd just flounced into Gringotts the day after she turned seventeen and ordered it done as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry was often glad that he had befriended her so early. Smart though she was, Luna was too passive and accepting. People would have tried to ruin her sweet innocence the same way they tried to ruin everything else that didn't conform to their narrow beliefs.

XXXXX

Harry checked the bindings on Bellatrix and took a moment to give her naked body an approving look. Despite being in her late forties and spending fifteen years in Azkaban, she was still a rather beautiful woman. Magic really could do wonders when it came to fixing up appearances.

She hadn't been too badly injured during the battle. Some cracked bones and heavy bruising, nothing that couldn't be fixed in a few hours. It was time for her to wake up.

Harry moved into one of her blind spots, revived her and then waited patiently as the witch surged awake and pulled on her restraints. It was quite useless, bound as she was at the wrists, ankles and neck in a reclining spread eagle position, but he knew from experience that it was best to let reality sink in before speaking.

"It doesn't chafe, I hope?" He inquired politely, smiling to himself in amusement when she froze. "I'd hate to think that my work was substandard."

"Potter." She snarled.

Harry walked into her line of sight and smiled at her. "Good evening, Bella."

Bellatrix glowered for a few moments longer and then favored him with a disdainful sneer. "So, what is it going to be? Torture?" She paused to look down at herself as much as she could in her current predicament. "Rape?"

"If I didn't know better I'd say you were looking forward to it." Harry observed.

"It's not as if a little boy like you could really do anything to me." She sneered some more.

"Is this the part where I lose my temper and violently rape you in a sad attempt to prove how much of a man I am?" He asked, amused. "You'd scream abuse and insult me the whole time of course, but you would secretly enjoy it because you're weird like that. You'd provoke me into doing it again and again in the coming days until you stopped pretending to hate it. Eventually you'd proclaim your devotion to me and I'd let you go, taking you as a mistress or concubine...and then one day you'd put a knife in my back. Was that the plan?"

Bellatrix tried to cover up her shock with another sneer, but didn't deny it.

"Nice try, but I read the Evil Overlord List."

"Evil Overlord List?" She repeated, clearly baffled.

"Very useful thing, even if you're not an Evil Overlord." Harry assured her. "Anyway, there's no torture in store for you. I've long since moved past such a clumsy way of gathering information and I'm not a sadist by nature either, so that kind of thing doesn't do it for me."

"But tying women up and collaring them does do it for you?" Bellatrix asked snidely.

"Yes." Harry nodded shamelessly and reached out to give her pubic hair a little tug, earning himself a glare from the bound witch. "But that's not why you're tied up and collared. I do admittedly enjoy those kinds of games, and I _am_ tempted to do to you what I did to Narcissa, albeit with a few extra steps...buuuut you'd likely be more trouble than you're worth. Cissy brought her skill with politics and social maneuvering to the table, whereas you're just a blunt instrument with a terrible reputation and a lot of baggage."

Aside from the amusement value of tweaking Voldemort's non-existent nose by turning his lieutenant against him and the visceral satisfaction of completely dominating a beaten enemy, there were nothing but downsides to that course of action. Dora was also unlikely to be impressed.

Bellatrix apparently decided not to ask what he'd done to her baby sister. "What's the point of putting me in this position if you're not going to rape or torture me?"

Harry was privately amazed at how this conversation was going. With her reputation, he'd honestly been expecting to get nothing but incoherent screaming out of Bellatrix. Maybe it was because Voldemort hadn't been mentioned yet? That seemed to be her primary trigger. Well, he'd find out soon enough.

"I just want to ask you a few questions." He said calmly. "I know that Voldemort entrusted you with something that he told you to protect at all costs."

Bellatrix tried to keep her face schooled into neutrality, but that was exactly the problem. Her previous insolent expression vanished like smoke.

"What was it, Bella?" Harry crooned, leaning in. "Was it a sword? Maybe a diadem? A cup?"

Her aura rippled with a deep fear when he mentioned the cup. "Ah, so it was the cup, Hufflepuff's Cup. Now all you need to do is tell me where you put it. I've already torn Lestrange Manor down to the bedrock and it wasn't there, but where else would dear Bella hide something like that?"

"I won't tell you anything!" She shouted, almost hyperventilating in fear.

Harry frowned. Her emotions were running so high right now he wouldn't be able to keep guessing and hope that she would betray herself. And there was no telling what critical information he'd miss even if he managed it.

"No, I don't suppose you will." He nodded. "And I don't want to spend the next few months fucking you until you belong to me more than you ever did to Voldemort. I guess we're doing this the unpleasant way." He finished with a sigh, stepping back.

"I won't talk, no matter what you do to me!" Bellatrix repeated furiously, her chest still heaving slightly from the earlier rush of fear. Sweat had begun to glisten all along her body as well.

"I'm not going to do anything to you, I'm simply going to leave you here for the next three, four, maybe five days." He said, pulling down a contraption that bore a strange similarity to that thing that caged hamsters sometimes had for drinking water from. "If you get thirsty just order this thing to move closer and it will. There's an alchemically-derived nutrient dust dissolved in the water that will provide your body with everything it needs to function. Trips to be bathroom will be unavailable I'm afraid, so you'll have to relieve yourself as you are. Don't worry though, the nutrient dust is 100% digestible so I expect you'll at least stop shitting yourself within two or three days at the most. there are also some enchantments on the surface you're lying on to take care of the worst of the mess and Kreacher will come to hose you down afterwards."

He paused for a moment to take in her outraged expression before continuing. "Also, try to stay awake. The collar is enchanted to deliver a nasty electric shock if you nod off. I expect that after a few days without sleep, your fairly impressive Occlumency will be worse than useless and I'll be able to simply plunder your mind for any information I want."

"I'LL KILL YOU, POTTER! JUST LIKE I KILLED MY WHORE NIECE!" Bellatrix howled in fury, whatever self-control she'd been holding on to evaporating.

"That reminds me." Harry cut in calmly. "If you get any ideas about biting your own tongue off or something like that as a means of suicide, I'd advise against it. There are diagnostic charms monitoring you at all times and you won't have time to die before help arrives."

He decided not to tell her that Dora was still alive. You never know when that kind of information might come in handy.

XXXXX

Harry stepped out of the room that served as Bellatrix's temporary holding cell and blinked when he saw Kreacher standing there.

"Kreacher?" He asked in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"Kreacher wanted to get started on his duties to keep the outcast of the Black family clean." The crotchety house elf said with a certain gleam in his eye.

"Well, she doesn't need it just yet, but I get the feeling that keeping her clean isn't really your primary motivation." Harry noted with amusement.

"The outcast did not treat Kreacher well when she was still Mistress Bella." Kreacher explained without much inflection, but he was obviously nursing a grudge.

Ah, so it was revenge. That was fine. Kreacher knew that he wasn't allowed to do more than hose her with cold water.

"You're such a lovable little psychopath." Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. "Have at her then, but don't overdo it and stay away from the face. I don't want her getting hypothermia or dry drowning."

The room temperature was set to be rather toasty in deference to Bellatrix's lack of clothes, which was itself done to make her easier to keep clean as much as it was to make her feel more vulnerable, but excessive cold water drenching could still be dangerous.

"Master is embarrassing Kreacher." The elf said bashfully. If house elves could blush, he would be glowing. "Kreacher promises he will be careful."

XXXXX

Narcissa waited in front of the mirror that she knew led to Harry's secret stronghold of Ravenhead. She had never been there herself, nor did she know where in the world it was located, but she knew that it was there that Harry's prisoners were kept.

Her eldest sister was now among those prisoners and she hoped that Harry would allow her to visit.

Not that she really knew what she was going to say to Bellatrix if he did allow it. It had been so long since they'd seen each other and so much had changed. The only thing she was sure of was that she wanted to ask about Draco.

Lost in her thoughts, the mirror's activation startled her.

"Cissy?" Harry questioned as he stepped out of it.

"My lord...Harry." She replied nervously, starting to have second thoughts. What if he thought that Bella might sway her to turn against him?

He peered at her with an uncomfortable scrutiny.

"You want to talk to your sister." He deduced, sounding neither surprised nor upset.

"Yes." She admitted uncomfortably.

"She'll try to hurt you just to spite me." He warned.

Narcissa tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it felt more like a bitter grimace. "She would have tried to hurt me anyway. Bella...our mother always thought that hurting people was the way to solve problems and Bella was her firstborn."

Harry nodded his understanding without asking her to explain any further, for which she was grateful.

"Alright, I'll take you to her."

Narcissa hadn't been sure what to expect of Ravenhead, but upon seeing it was immediately apparent that it was exclusively Harry's work. Nothing but dreary hallways of smooth, unyielding stone, lit by flickering torches of Gubraithian fire.

It wasn't as bad as she imagined Azkaban to be, but it lacked warmth. Was this how Harry would end up living if he was alone?

They didn't speak on the way. Narcissa was too nervous and Harry's mind was already elsewhere.

"She's in there." He said, nodding at a heavy wood door. "Just one thing before you go inside. She thinks that she succeeded in killing Dora and I haven't informed her otherwise. I don't want you doing it either."

Narcissa nodded her understanding, took a fortifying breath and entered the room, happy that there would be privacy. She didn't want an audience for what was bound to be a difficult conversation.

The sight of Bellatrix shackled down with her naked body splayed out just made her feel sad. Why did it have to come to this? Why did her sister have to be such a monster?

Narcissa wondered if she dared ask what Harry was planning to do to her. He would tell her if she asked, she knew, but it would probably be unpleasant to hear. And she couldn't ask him to be merciful...not after what Bellatrix had attempted.

"Come back to gloat, Potter?" Bella spat out. There was water dripping from her body for some reason.

"It's me, Bella." Narcissa said softly.

"Cissy?" Bellatrix questioned hopefully, before apparently remembering to who Narcissa now owed her loyalty and her tone regained its viciousness. "Did _he_ send you here? Hoping to trick me into telling my _dear_ sister what I wouldn't tell him?"

"I don't know what Harry asked you, I just wanted to talk to my sister." Narcissa said.

"I have nothing to say to a filthy traitor spreading her legs for the enemy!" Bellatrix snarled.

"Harry isn't _my_ enemy." Narcissa contended sternly. "I might have thought that way once, when I still allowed myself to be influenced by Lucius' and our parents' stupidity. I know better now. Harry Potter is the greatest head that House Black has ever had and I am privileged to be at his side."

"He's a disgusting mongrel halfblood!" Bella shrieked. "The Dark Lord will purge the world of his filth!"

Narcissa bit down on the urge to shout back at her elder sister. Had she ever sounded like that herself? Not this half-mad yelling, but the conviction in blood purity? Harry had shown her that long ago power had nothing whatsoever to do with one's parentage and the thought that she'd ever been this ignorant was an embarrassing one.

Not to mention that Bella's precious Dark Lord was even less 'pure' than Harry, although telling her that would no doubt be pointless.

"I'm not here to talk about that." She said after taking a deep breath.

Bellatrix scoffed and turned her head away as much as she could.

"Draco." Narcissa stated stiffly. "Tell me about my son."

Bellatrix turned back to look at her with a cruel gleam in her eyes. "Ah yes, darling little Drakey-poo. Now why should I tell you anything about him? He's a _proper_ pureblood that knows his duty, unlike the whore that squeezed him out of her loins."

"I'm just hoping that you could tell me something good about him before he gets himself killed fighting Harry." Narcissa said sadly. "I did everything I could for Draco, now I would just like to learn who I am going to be grieving. Who has my son become, Bella?"

Narcissa didn't need to know Legilimency to guess at the thoughts brewing behind her sister's eyes. Bellatrix was considering whether granting her request or staying quiet would hurt her more. What a vicious creature she was.

 _Mother would be proud._ She thought bitterly.

Bellatrix eventually decided that talking would be more painful, just as Narcissa had intended. Her older sister had always been easy to manipulate.

XXXXX

Harry wasn't surprised when Narcissa came out of Bellatrix's room with tears on her face and looking much subdued. He simply offered her his hand and didn't comment on the desperate gratitude with which she latched onto it.

He wondered sometimes if parenthood would affect him this much as well, or if this was a situation that only more emotional people found themselves in.

XXXXX

The day had been long and depressing and Fleur tried to make it better in her usual fashion as soon as they were alone.

But Tonks squirmed out of her embrace.

"I'm not in the mood." She muttered and stalked into the bathroom without looking back.

Fleur bit her lip and exchanged a worried glance with Luna. The metamorphmagus had been sullen and quiet ever since the battle had ended and it wasn't hard to guess that the deaths of their Imperiused attackers weighed heavily on her conscience.

"Should we leave her alone for a bit?" Fleur asked uncertainly after a long period of worried silence.

Luna shook her head. "No, Nymphadora doesn't cope by brooding the way Harry does. She needs us."

Fleur smiled, relieved to have a clear course of action. Luna always managed to simplify everything.

"Let's go help her then."

The shower was on, so the two blondes shrugged at each other, undressed and went in to join their shapeshifting lover. Only, she wasn't showering so much as sitting against a wall in a rather cliché scene of depression.

"Can't a girl even shower in private around here?" Tonks asked listlessly.

"You weren't showering, you were brooding in the shower." Luna stated matter-of-factly.

"Come on, Nymmie." Fleur said, picking the metamorphmagus off the ground by her armpits. "We could all use a shower anyway."

Tonks didn't put up a fight and silently allowed herself to be led through the motions. There was none of the groping, giggling or kissing that often accompanied their group showers.

Once they were done, they migrated to the bed and Fleur resisted her natural instinct to start something sexual. Instead, she positioned herself against a pile of pillows with Tonks against her chest and Luna cuddled into her side.

"We had no choice." Fleur opened up once they'd gotten comfortable. "There were too many and we couldn't have known that they were under the Imperius."

"I know, I worked out that much myself already." Tonks sighed noisily. "That would be bad enough on its own, but...I _enjoyed_ killing them. We were so much stronger than them...it felt like I was squashing bugs and it was _fun_. All this time I was worried about what lines Harry might cross and then _I_ turn out to be the monster."

Fleur was silent for a good quarter minute as she thought about that. This was a different problem than she'd expected and would require different handling.

"I enjoyed it too." She finally admitted. "They were attacking my home and trying to kill my family. I reveled in my ability to destroy them. I always knew that veela could be violent in our passions, but it still surprised me how good it felt. If that makes me a monster then so be it."

"I like being able to protect you." Luna added simply and pressed in closer. She was blissfully unburdened by any concerns about what kind of people she or her lovers were. They were hers and she loved them, that was all that mattered.

Tonks exhaled gustily and closed her eyes.

"Could you sing for me?" She requested after a long few seconds, a little embarrassed to be asking for such a thing, but only a little. It was usually Luna who made song requests.

"I would be happy to." Fleur smiled. Her song was a pale shadow of true phoenix song, but it could still uplift the spirits of those who heard it. And she did like to sing, especially if it made her loved ones feel better.

Now it was just a matter of choosing an appropriate song. Something uplifting that wouldn't make light of the situation.

Her lips curved into a smile as she thought of just the right one. Harry had introduced her to this one during his 'research the power of veela song' phase. She had no idea where her tone deaf man had found such a lovely song, but it had become one of her favorites.

Fleur cleared her throat, took a deep breath and started singing. " _Fear not this night, you will not go astray..._ "

XXXXX

Harry had nearly made it to the master bedroom after splitting off from Narcissa when he sensed as much as heard Fleur singing. He couldn't discern the lyrics until he was just outside the door.

" _And you can always be strong_

 _Llift your voice with the first light of dawn._ "

Harry smiled to himself as he recognised the familiar words. A remnant of his experimentation of how a song's lyrics altered the magical effects of a veela's singing.

He recalled that Fleur had been a bit put out with his inability to just enjoy her singing without wanting to figure out how it worked, but she had agreed to help him eventually. Although she had shot him a truly impressive glare when he'd asked if she'd be willing to try singing ' _Hammer Smashed Face_ ' by Cannibal Corpse. Good times.

Harry quietly opened the door, not wanting to startle Fleur into breaking off her song. He immediately noted the way that Dora was cuddled into the veela's chest, looking rather younger than her twenty-five years.

Fleur noticed him entering of course, but didn't stop singing.

" _Dawn's just a heartbeat away_

 _Hope's just a sunrise away._ "

Those were the last verses and Harry hurriedly divested himself of clothing and joined the snuggle pile in the ensuing silence.

"What's the occasion?" He asked quietly, setting himself on Fleur's other side. He was usually in the middle of these group hugs, but this one was clearly set up for Dora's benefit.

"Nymphadora felt like a monster for enjoying the power she had over our attackers." Luna stated bluntly.

"Ah." Harry nodded in understanding. "Don't feel too bad about it. It's really no different than the satisfaction you'd feel after swatting an irritating fly or mosquito."

"But these were _people_." Dora insisted, turning around to face him. "And they were forced into attacking us."

"So?" Harry asked with a shrug. "A fly or mosquito doesn't irritate you out of malice either."

Dora exhaled gustily and closed her eyes, clearly too emotionally exhausted to argue the point any further. "Everything is so messed up."

"The world doesn't heed the powerless." Harry replied after a long few moments of thought. "You think you fought and killed innocents today? You didn't, they had no voices of their own. You fought and killed extensions of the Death Eaters' power, who are themselves extensions of Voldemort's power. Temporary and unwilling extensions, but extensions all the same. So what if you enjoyed it? Everyone gains a sense of satisfaction from destroying a threat to the things they care about, whether that's their peace of mind from a buzzing fly or their home and family from a megalomaniacal idiot. You have nothing to feel guilty for."

"There you go, sounding like an old man again." She chuckled weakly, but gave it up as a bad job halfway through and just sighed again. "I wish this was all behind us already, so that we could get on with our lives."

"Who knows? Maybe this is just a vivid flashback I'm having as a thirty-year-old man, thinking fondly upon the times before the three of you buried me in screaming children." Harry quipped with a grin.

"I've always wondered how you could bury someone in screaming children." Luna mused absently. "I suppose you could transfigure them into a coffin..."

Even Harry could only stare at the petite blonde for that one.

"What?" Luna asked. She sounded honestly confused, but he wasn't sure he believed it. Even after all these years, he still couldn't tell if she did this just to wind people up or if she was for real.

XXXXX

 _August 3rd. Hogwarts._

"Was it truly wise to reveal that much information?" Dumbledore asked.

"Can't set a trap without bait." Harry shrugged.

"This is certainly likely to draw him back to Britain." Dumbledore admitted. "But to what end? You know he cannot die until we find and destroy all of his Horcruxes."

"True, but we _can_ cripple his support base. His ability to cause trouble will be greatly curtailed without followers."

"That would only serve to drive him into hiding. Not to mention that the loss of life would be tremendous."

"I don't think he has it in him to hide for long, his ego couldn't take it." Hary didn't bother to address the point about the loss of life, considering it entirely irrelevant. People would die no matter what. "That means we could pounce on him as soon as he shows his ugly face."

"I still think it would be better to take care of him once and for all, rather than whittling away at his power like this." Dumbledore frowned.

"Because that's worked _so_ well in the past." Harry said sarcastically, rolling his eyes in true teenager fashion. "See, I'd love to just take Voldemort out and then leisurely hunt down the rest of his followers, but that's apparently not going to happen yet and I'm not going to sit around and do nothing while he plots. It's been barely two days since his last plot and I'm already mired in a stupid propaganda battle with most of Europe's magical governments."

The fallout of Voldemort's attack would have been amusing to watch as an uninvolved party. As an involved one, it was highly irritating.

Early damage control had mitigated the worst of it, but it still turned into a blame shifting competition.

As Harry had expected, the affected countries kicked up a stink and tried to paint him as an unstable butcher. Not because of any kind of genuine moral outrage, but in an effort to reduce his political capital which they no doubt felt threatened by.

In other circumstances, Harry wouldn't have cared. He wasn't an elected official and didn't need to curry favor with anyone, nor did he have any political ambitions. If people didn't like him then they could fuck off, it made little difference to him.

Unfortunately, he was put in a position where he _had_ to care. All this stupid politicking would just serve to indirectly aid Voldemort and Harry really did not want the struggle between them to drag on for years and years just because he couldn't act without some fat idiot getting in the way.

Of course, getting self-serving politicians to understand why ignoring or even indirectly helping an unhinged Dark Lord bent on world domination just because he wasn't directly threatening them at the moment was a bad idea was like trying to explain calculus to a chamber pot.

Narcissa's days were now mostly filled with trying to talk some sense into her colleagues at the ICW, but it was an uphill struggle. An international organisation like that was akin to a mechanical clock where every gear wanted to turn its own way. Nothing ever got done unless everyone had their attention focused on the same thing and the only thing that could really focus the ICW were breaches to the Statute of Secrecy. That was the angle that Narcissa was going for, but so far nobody seemed to be taking Voldemort particularly seriously as a threat to it.

Harry almost wished that Voldemort would end up irreparably breaking the Statute of Secrecy, just so that he could say 'I told you so'.

"You did kill a large number of their citizens." Dumbledore pointed out, his patented grandfatherly disapproval in full effect.

"You know perfectly well that this has nothing to do with me killing their citizens." Harry scowled. "That's just a convenient excuse, much like Voldemort's pureblood angle was."

"There _are_ politicians in the world that care about the people they serve." The old wizard countered.

"Sometimes I wonder about you, Dumbledore." Harry replied thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?"

"I can tell that you actually mean what you're saying, so the question is if you are really that naive or are you just desperately clinging to your deluded optimism because you can't handle reality?"

"There is no need for insults, Harry." Dumbledore frowned disapprovingly.

"It's not an insult, I'm honestly curious. Maybe you just spend too much time either shut away in this tower or around children. Nobody as old as you should be capable of having this much faith in people."

"Do you really consider having faith in people instead of constantly questioning their motives to be such a terrible thing?"

"It is when it leads you to make decisions based on what you _want_ to be true rather than what _is_ true."

"We've strayed off topic." Dumbledore changed the subject.

"Let's get back on track then." Harry shrugged. "Voldemort will hopefully take the bait and try to get into the Department of Mysteries, where we can hammer him. Capturing him would be ideal, but there's not much hope of that happening. I'll take depriving him of his physical body and a few lieutenants as a consolation prize."

"Seeing as you have already baited the trap, I am left with no choice but to help you even if I disagree." Dumbledore sighed.

"Excellent." Harry smiled winningly, delighting in Dumbledore's consternation. They weren't enemies, but they had deep ideological differences and it always amused him to get the old man's beard out of joint.

XXXXX

 _August 5th. Ravenhead._

"Hello again, Bella." Harry greeted.

The bound woman looked at him with an eager expression that quickly shifted to confusion and then to anger.

"Potter?" She snarled, although there was a hint of question to it.

"Expecting someone else?" He inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Bellatrix looked like she was struggling to focus on the here and now. Unsurprising, she _had_ been awake for a good four days by now after all and the line between consciousness and dreaming started to blur at about seventy-two hours without sleep.

She abruptly jerked and grunted in pain as the collar shocked her. Apparently she had started to pass out.

The pain did focus her though and her gaze sharpened.

"Potter!" She snarled, apparently forgetting that she'd already done so.

"Yes." Harry nodded. "Let me just turn off that collar for now."

"A pity, I was starting to like it." She bluffed with a sneer.

"Kinky." He commented conversationally.

"You haven't seen anything yet." She mumbled, already losing her grip on reality and consciousness.

"Look into my eyes, Bella." Harry instructed, leaning over her.

She looked back up at him with a confused expression. "Green?"

Harry got the feeling that she was wondering why his eyes weren't red. He ignored it and gently slipped into her mind.

In her current state, Bellatrix had no real defense against Legilimency. Her thoughts were unfocused and had a dreamlike quality to them that was easy to influence. Since she was already thinking of Voldemort, Harry had no trouble guiding her towards the memory of him presenting her with the Cup of Hufflepuff.

He saw her fierce pride at being entrusted with such an important duty and her determination to protect the Cup with her life if necessary. He saw her eventually decide that, filthy beasts they might be, the goblins would keep it safe in the Lestrange vault.

Harry broke off the contact with a frown. Gringotts, Hufflepuff's Cup was in Gringotts. That was...unfortunate. It had been a possibility of course, but he had been hoping that the typical pureblood disdain for anything outside of themselves would preclude that option.

It was going to be a bitch to get it out of there. The goblins certainly weren't going to be helpful.

Meanwhile, Bellatrix had momentarily regained lucidity because he had focused her mind for her and was now looking at him in horror.

"NOOOOO!" She wailed heartbrokenly. "Master, I've failed you!"

Harry looked at the sobbing woman and actually felt a faint stirring of pity in his heart. It wasn't the first time that one of his prisoners had broken down, but they usually begged to be let go or to have their lives spared, a rare few even asked to die. Seeing Bellatrix sobbing because she had failed to protect Voldemort's secrets was worse somehow, in the same way that the soulful look of a kicked puppy was worse than the sulking of a human child.

"I'm sorry, Master." She continued to blubber, snot and tears now making a mess of her face. She'd obviously drifted out of reality again. "Please forgive me!"

Harry sighed. What a pathetic sight. An otherwise strong woman whose whole life was built on a cracked foundation.

"It's alright, Bella." He said softly, cupping her face to get her attention. "Just look into my eyes and all is forgiven."

She looked at him with such hopeful earnestness on her face that it made Harry keenly aware of what a right bastard he was. But it had been a very long time since he'd thought of himself as a nice person and, pitiful or not, Bellatrix had information he needed and this was the best way to get it.

"Green?" She wondered with confusion just before he slipped gently back into her mind.

He went looking for other stuff this time. Locations, plans, strategies, numbers, resources...all the stuff one needed to fight a war. As before, Bellatrix's thoughts were easily guided, scattered as they were by lack of sleep.

Much of what he learned were things that he'd already gotten out of his earlier prisoners, but some of it was new. Bellatrix had been deemed too...enthusiastic...to be sent on recruitment missions and so Voldemort had kept her close. She had seen quite a bit that others hadn't.

For one thing, he finally found out where Voldemort had been hiding for the past year. Fucking Russia of all places. No wonder he'd had so much trouble finding him.

Of course it was too late to use this information. Bellatrix's memories made it clear that they were moving elsewhere after the attack on Spellhaven, possibly to more than one place. She only knew where _she_ was supposed to go, which was going to be investigated, but Harry doubted that anything would come of it.

There was something useful here though. The damn Death Eaters had learned how to blend in with the mundane world! A large percentage of the new recruits were apparently not as oblivious as the typical British wizard. That could be a serious problem, as it meant that simply keeping an eye on a given country's magical hotspots wasn't necessarily good enough. He would need to widen his focus when spying through the Palantír, for all the good that would do since he had no way of easily telling if someone was a Death Eater unless they had a Dark Mark, which only the inner circle did.

Speaking of the new recruits, there were so many of them! Well over a hundred.

This alarmed Harry considerably. The sheer number of Imperiused attackers the other night had already implied that there were disturbingly many of them, but it was still an unpleasant revelation. How had he gotten so many to join up with him in just a year? How _could_ he have gotten so many to join up with him in just a year?

The magical world was _tiny_ , there were probably not even a hundred thousand witches and wizards in the whole world. While it was true that it had a far larger percentage of dubious characters than the mundane one, Voldemort should not have had this much success in his recruitment efforts, not with his reputation and sketchy track record.

Next up was the security measures against detection that Voldemort had devised with the help of Augustus Rookwood. The former Unspeakable had apparently deduced that Etal was a creature of wind and developed several wards that blocked his senses.

That was just fucking peachy. He really needed to deprive Voldemort of that particular asset as soon as possible. Intelligent thought he might be, Voldemort seemed to be focused on raw combat power while leaving the innovative thinking to people like Rookwood and Snape. Maybe he should off Snape too? It wasn't like he was useful as a spy for Dumbledore anymore with the way the Death Eaters had been reorganised.

Another worrying thing he learned was about the mysterious assassin that Lucius Malfoy had hired to kill him in the second task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He could finally put a name to the man thanks to Bellatrix. Goran Gojkov, a Serbian-born wizard with no connection whatsoever to...well, anything apparently. Just a wand for hire.

The mercenary had left Voldemort's service by now – something that had fiercely stuck in Bella's craw since she considered serving the Dark Lord the highest of honors – but he had been the one to suggest restructuring the Death Eaters into a modern type terrorist organisation and he had acted as a trainer for them as well.

If that was all it would be one thing, but the way that the man had come into Voldemort's brief employ in the first place was far more disturbing. Some unknown had hired him for reasons unknown to help Draco Malfoy on whatever task the little blond moron was on, which just so happened to be restoring Voldemort to physical form.

Someone was playing games from the shadows.

Harry told himself that just because the vampires were the only group of shadowy manipulators that he knew of didn't mean it was them. Still, the suspicion persisted.

The last notable thing he learned pertained to Voldemort's snake familiar, Nagini. He had already known about her from the others, but they hadn't spent as much time around the snake as Bellatrix. It was not a natural species of serpent for certain. The damn thing was the size of an anaconda, if not bigger, and potently venomous on top of it. Moreover, she was also significantly magic resistant, intelligent and surprisingly stealthy for such a large creature.

An especially important memory of Bellatrix's regarding Nagini stood out from the rest.

 _"She is beautiful, Master." Bellatrix was saying, casting admiring glances at Nagini as she slithered by._

 _"She is part of me." Voldemort boasted._

Harry nearly lost control of his Legilimency probe at that one. It almost sounded as if Voldemort had turned Nagini into a Horcrux...but surely he wouldn't? A living, mortal creature as a Horcrux? Even for Voldemort, that was a pretty damn cavalier attitude to be taking with one's soul!

And if Nagini _was_ a Horcurx, then that meant that there was only one left unknown, most likely either the Sword of Gryffindor or the Diadem of Ravenclaw.

Harry rummaged around Bellatrix's mind for a while longer, eventually pulling out with a frown. Bellatrix paid frustratingly little attention to the details of Voldemort's actions unless specifically told to do so. All of her focus was on how great he was and what she could do for him, rather than on what he was doing.

She really was the blunt instrument he had said she was a few days ago.

The restrained witch blinked and burst into a renewed bout of sobbing as she realised that she had unwittingly betrayed her master yet again. Fortunately it didn't last long. The lack of sleep hit her like a brick and she passed out mid-sob.

Harry looked at her and shook his head with a sigh, then he unbound her and levitated her to a cell with a proper bed. There might still be more use he could extract from Bellatrix, but probably not through Legilimency. There was no more point in depriving her of sleep.

XXXXX

"So it's in the Lestrange vault?" Tonks asked sourly.

"Yep."

"Which my aunt hasn't had access to since you annulled her marriage?"

"I doubt that Rodolphus was able to renew her vault access in the time that they've been free, soooo...yep."

"So even if I morphed into her and went to Gringotts, the goblins wouldn't take me to the Lestrange vault?"

"That sounds about right."

"And even if I could accurately morph into either Rabastan or Rodolphus from your memories of them, we don't have the right vault key."

"Mhm."

"No chance that the goblins would let me in without a key in if I asked nicely?"

"They'd laugh in your face and insult your intelligence."

"We're going to have to break in by force, aren't we?"

He didn't blame Dora for scowling. Goblins might not be terribly dangerous out in the open, but they were _very_ dangerous underground. And they took it personally if anything was stolen from their vaults. Getting captured by goblins for attempted theft would be worse than fighting them to the death, especially for the girls. Flitwick was part goblin and almost definitely not the result of an unlikely love story.

Probably a moot point though. They were too powerful to be kept prisoner nowadays.

"I'm not seeing any alternatives." Harry admitted.

Doing to Bellatrix what he did to Narcissa continued to tempt him as a option. Having a double agent high up in Voldemort's ranks would be incredibly useful, not to mention that she could have swiped the Lestrange vault key from Rodolphus.

If only there weren't so many problems making it non-viable... It would take months, maybe even a year or more to completely bend her to his will and it was doubtful that Voldemort would just accept her back without suspecting anything. Unlike Snape, Bellatrix didn't have the subtlety required to hide her true allegiance behind cunning Occlumency.

"Wonderful." The metamorphmagus said sarcastically. "And they already hate us."

"Couldn't we bribe a goblin to bring it to us?" Fleur interjected.

"I'm not sure." Harry said thoughtfully. "Goblins are greedy little buggers, that's true, but they also have a lot of pride in their security and they resent us. This seems like one of those 'all or nothing' situations and the odds of it going well are less than ideal.

"Meaning that we can't risk it." Tonks said sourly.

"Not with the current standing we have with Gringotts and our lack of knowledge on the possible consequences." Harry agreed. "But at least we know where the Cup is even if we can't get it yet. And if my suspicion about Voldemort's snake is right, that leaves only one Horcrux left unaccounted for."

"Which we have no leads on." Fleur pointed out.

"We know it's in Britain." Luna said.

Harry frowned at her. "How do you figure? I agree that it's likely seeing as all the others were also in Britain, but we don't have any information one way or the other. If I was Voldemort I would definitely hide at least one somewhere else. Frankly, I'm shocked he hasn't hidden them all over the world."

"He isn't really hiding them, though." Luna countered dreamily. "It's pretty silly to cut your soul into pieces and then keep it so close if you wanted to hide it."

Harry's face went slack as it slowly dawned on him that Luna was right. It _was_ silly. More to the point, why would any vaguely intelligent person hide items of such critical importance in places connected to them, making it easier for enemies to find?

Slytherin's Locket, put in a cave where he tormented his fellow orphans with his early understanding of magic.

The ring, in the dilapidated shack where his maternal relatives had lived before he'd killed them.

The diary, given to Lucius Malfoy to protect. The face of the pureblood aristocracy that would have sneered at a halfblood Tom Riddle, turned into a servant.

Hufflepuff's Cup, given to a proud daughter of House Black that had devoted herself to him completely.

Nagini, to commemorate his return from death.

Harry's own murder had been meant as fuel for his final Horcrux, as if to demonstrate how wrong the prophecy was to foretell the coming of an enemy who could destroy him.

It all fit. Voldemort wasn't _hiding_ his Horcruxes, he was using them as trophies to mark his victories. The instructions for creating a Horcrux in the _Secrets of the Darkest Art_ even specifically stated that the item used had to be of great personal significance or else the soul fragment wouldn't bond with it. It was only logical that something similar would apply to where they could be placed.

A Horcrux was more than just an object that prevented final death. It was, quite literally, a fundamental part one's being, a connection far deeper than even the subconscious. No amount of basic common sense would allow Voldemort to simply put one into a box and bury it somewhere nobody would ever find it. No matter how clever he was or how great his will, he _could not_ do it.

Harry felt properly embarrassed by his failure to realise this before. Had he not keenly felt the far-reaching consequences of soul manipulation himself? He may not have ever split his own soul and thus did not have firsthand knowledge of what it was like, but that was no excuse. All that research into the nature of the soul, only to overlook the potential ramifications of Horcrux creation on one's behavior? Unforgivable. He hadn't felt this embarrassed since...well, since the time that Adrastia had told him that performing the Joining on an unaware bed partner was not a harmless way to enhance sex, but at least there he'd had relative ignorance to plead as an excuse. This was just a pure failure to _think_.

He grabbed Luna by the face and kissed her thoroughly, making her squeal in surprise.

"What screw do you think she knocked loose this time?" Tonks asked as the intense snog continued.

"I don't know, but I'm starting to feel left out." Fleur replied, giving the metamorphmagus a pout.

Tonks looked at the way that Harry was assaulting Luna's mouth and concluded that it might go on for a while. Might as well find a pleasant way to pass the time.

"Alright, hop on." She said, patting her lap.

Fleur needed no further encouragement and daintily plopped herself into the indicated spot, immediately initiating a passionate liplock as if trying to outdo the other pair.

Several minutes later, all four of them were a bit disheveled and a lot horny, but Harry began explaining his epiphany before the clothes could start coming off.

"...which means we can narrow down the list of possible hiding places massively, all thanks to Luna's insight." He finished.

"Do I get a reward?" Luna asked excitedly.

"Sure." Harry was bemused but far from unwilling to accomodate her.

"Can I shave your chest and eat pancakes off it?"

Harry's smile became a bit fixed as he was assaulted by memories.

"Don't you remember what happened the last time you wanted to try that?" Tonks asked the petite blonde pointedly.

"I said I was sorry." Luna sulked and looked at Harry with big, hopeful eyes. "I won't mix up the whipped cream and the shaving cream this time."

"Or you could, you know, use a spell?" Harry suggested.

"But where's the fun in that?"

XXXXX

 _August 6th. Unknown location._

"Potter is obviously baiting a trap for Riddle and he is more at odds with the Ministries of Magic than ever." Baranar noted. "The situation is escalating."

"Indeed." Tao agreed stoically and looked towards Bjomolf. "Do you intend to stop running interference for Riddle now?"

"Yes." The ancient vampire nodded.

"I do not like this." Neferu said with a small scowl on her beautiful face. "For centuries we avoided dealing with the likes of those two. Always have they been deemed too dangerous and unpredictable. Now, at the most dangerous of times, you have suddenly decided to play games and risk exposing us all."

"It is exactly _because_ of how dangerous this time is that we must deal with Potter. Riddle is a akin to a rampaging dragon, powerful and dangerous, but one-dimensional. Potter, on the other hand, is already poised to become one of the pivotal figures of this world's future. Our attempt to make an ally of him has failed, now we must strive to establish a cautious understanding."

"Your unsubtle use of that Serbian mercenary is hardly likely to achieve that." Neferu sniffed. "You must know that we seem like the natural suspects to him, given what he already knows of us."

"Unsubtle?" Baranar repeated with a snicker. "Ah, the follies of youth. Don't worry, my dear, you'll learn."

The Egyptian vampire bristled with irritation at his mockery.

"Ah, I see." Ophelia nodded, cutting off the brewing argument. "You intend to start helping Potter now, and not hiding it as well as you could. You are hoping that he will be confused enough by the mixed messages to ask to speak with you again?"

"Exactly so." Bjomolf nodded. "All our plans are set and the death spiral poised to begin at any moment. Potter has already gone off-script more often than anyone we have ever encountered. Left uninformed, he might very well turn our barely controlled death spiral into a free fall. Hopefully, my little nudges will put him into a receptive mindset."

"And if they do not?" Neferu asked, her pride still smarting due to how she'd overlooked the ancient Viking's true plot.

"Then I suppose I will have to let him in on Contingency Plan Ragnarök."

"We are not calling it Ragnarök." Tao said flatly.

"I am the oldest, I get to name it." Bjomolf argued.

"Your attachement to the vestiges of your humanity is revolting."

"Just let the old man have his fun." Baranar sighed. "You know how nostalgic he gets about the days when he could swing an axe around and scream about Odin or Valhalla without feeling like a fool."

"And it _is_ apropos." Ophelia shrugged uncaringly.

"I hate you all, it is important to me that you understand this." Neferu bared her fangs at them. "I long for the day when I can at long last stake you out for the Sun."

"Teenagers." Baranar sighed, smirking mockingly at the late teens-looking female vampire. "Can't even make it a century or two without slinging around empty threats."

"Children, stop bickering or I will turn this apocalypse around." Bjomolf said sternly.

Ophelia and Baranar snorted at both his dad impression and the ridiculous notion that events could be 'turned around'. Tao remained stoic and Neferu briefly sneered.

XXXXX

 **The song " _Fear Not This Night_ ", pieces of which I used in this chapter, was composed and produced by Jeremy Soule for Guild Wars 2, the same dude who did Skyrim's soundtrack. The lyrics were also written by him and Roe Soesbee and performed by Asja Kadrič.**

 **This chapter was supposed to go a bit further plot-wise, but the word count got so high so quick that I decided to end it here.**


	47. Chapter 47

**Special thanks to Joe Lawyer for his invaluable help in polishing the rough edges off the chapter and story in general.**

XXXXX

One of Harry's concerns for the immediate future had been another attack on Spellhaven while they were recovering. It was what he would have done in Voldemort's place, keep on hammering and give the enemy no breathing space.

To his vast relief, Voldemort seemed to be more like Dumbledore in this respect, prefering to back off and let things settle before making another big move.

Harry remained tense and wary anyway, and kept the island's defenders similarly tense and wary. He also invited the various politicians and their guards to come to Spellhaven to discuss things even though they annoyed him. If Voldemort attacked again, they'd make good meat shields.

When a week had passed with no new attacks, Harry relaxed fractionally.

Then he snuck into a German military depot, Imperiused one of the soldiers in charge of the inventory into being his guide, made off with a few heavy machine guns, the manuals for them and several crates of ammo, obliviated the soldier and returned to Spellhaven with his ill-gotten gains.

Harry was fully aware that this was not particularly nice of him, but there really was no good way to get one's hands on that kind of ordinance and he couldn't be bothered to jump through too many hoops over it.

A couple of days later, Spellhaven sported several machine gun nests that were kept hidden under a bevy of spells. The remaining members of the Raven Host had been a bit dubious about using the mundane weapons, but had learned how to use them at Harry's insistence nonetheless.

A simple shield charm would still suffice to defend against them unfortunately, but people wouldn't be able to attack if they were shielding.

A few days after _that_ , a mysterious tower appeared on the grounds of their cháteau. It was a slender thing, about ten meters high and no obvious entrance, topped with an odd glowing crystal. Despite much curiousity Harry refused to explain what it was or even hint at what it was for.

Harry had figured out how to turn the liquid magic into a preset spell easily enough, but considered the stuff to be far too valuable to be used for that kind of thing. He made an exception for the tower, which was loaded with a massively powerful one-shot spell that would saturate the whole island with a sleep compulsion. It would affect everyone on the island and needed willpower that few could boast to resist, but it would handily put an end to any invasions.

His original idea of charging it with a stunner was discarded because a stunner that powerful would be as lethal as a Killing Curse.

While this was happening, the political shit-flinging also continued until public opinion eventually solidified. The European Ministries of Magic took hits to their image of competence, but since most citizens thought their government was fairly incompetent anyway this didn't really amount to much. On the other side of things, Harry's international reputation slid several notches towards 'dark', where it had previously been somewhat undefined. The initial tensions simmered down, but remained ready to flare up at the slightest provocation.

Lurking in the background, Bjomolf patiently waited for the ideal time to act. His web of agents both knowing and unknowing was significantly older than modern society, both magical and mundane, and pervaded it thoroughly, but he couldn't really force anything to happen. Forcing things drew attention and attention was unhealthy for a vampire.

After Harry sprung his trap, successfully or otherwise, that was when he would begin meddling again.

Harry of course remained oblivious to this and was still primarily concerned with putting a permanent end to Voldemort...

XXXXX

 _August 7th, 2018. Hogwarts._

Harry and Dumbledore exited the Pensieve into which one of Bellatrix's memories had been deposited.

"That _does_ sound as if he made Nagini into a Horcrux." Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

"Which means that he failed to find either the Sword of Gryffindor or the Diadem of Ravenclaw. Or both." Harry finished.

"Given that neither item has been seen in nearly a thousand years, that is certainly possible." Dumbledore admitted. "But what of Hufflepuff's Cup? You seemed certain that Bellatrix would be entrusted with a Horcrux...?"

Harry mulled over his options on how to answer the implied question for a while before making a decision. "She was entrusted with it, but I don't think I want to tell you where she put it."

"Why ever not?" Dumbledore asked, puzzled.

"Because it's somewhere that I can't easily get to just yet and I'd rather not risk having your overconfident arse try it and make a giant mess of things."

"Harry, I thought you agreed that we would work together." Dumbledore said disapprovingly.

"And then we had to chop your hand off because you wanted to fly solo."

"Yes, well." Albus hemmed and hawed for a bit before slumping in defeat. "Very well, I will leave it to you."

"Good. Now, clues for the sword and the diadem. Are there any?"

On a nearby shelf, the Sorting Hat remained silent. It was not alive and did not understand how important it was to find either of the two objects. The spells that had gone into its making only allowed it to reveal the sword to a 'true Gryffindor' that was in great need of a weapon to defend the school with.

"Not of the sword..."

"But there is one for the diadem?" Harry pressed impatiently.

"It is not widely known, but the Grey Lady, the ghost of Ravenclaw Tower, is in fact Helena Ravenclaw herself, Rowena's daughter." Dumbledore finally revealed. "But I fear that asking her would be of no use. She refuses to speak of the matter."

Harry wanted to strangle the old man, possibly with his own entrails.

"Why am I only hearing about this _now_?" He ground out. They had deduced that the Horcruxes were likely to be Founder artifacts _ages_ ago. "Working together my arse. You are so fucking aggravating to deal with I just want to stab you sometimes and be done with it. No wonder your brother hates you.

Dumbledore flinched at the low blow and attempted to hide how much that had hurt by adopting his usual mask of serene wisdom. "Confirming what the Horcrux is will not help us find it." He pointed out.

"You don't _know_ that, you are _assuming_."

Albus couldn't deny it, so he deflected.

"It doesn't matter. Like I said, the Grey Lady will not speak of it. Students have been asking her about the diadem for centuries, to no avail."

"I'm not a student."

Seeing that Harry would not be deterred, Dumbledore did so and the Grey Lady showed up a few minues later.

"You wished to speak to me, Headmaster?" The ghost asked, a hint of curiousity in her tone.

"Actually, I did." Harry cut in. "Your mother's diadem, tell me about it."

Her expression turned cold in an instant.

"I am afraid I cannot help you." She said disdainfully, already turning around.

"But were you able to help Tom Riddle?" Harry asked accusingly.

The ghost froze in place.

"You did, didn't you?" Harry went on, making no effort to keep his tone gentle. "Somehow he convinced you to tell him about it. I was told that for all that he's a light breeze away from being a raving lunatic now, he used to be quite charming when he was my age."

"I...I didn't know...he was...flattering, and he seemed to...understand...to sympathise." She said haltingly, her cold composure broken.

Albus closed his eyes, remembering what a sweet talker Tom Riddle used to be.

"Will you tell me about it now?" Harry pressed.

The Grey Lady visibly pulled herself together. "What do you want with it?"

"To destroy it."

"Destroy?" Helena balked. "My mother's diadem?"

"It has been befouled by the darkest magics." Albus said gently. "And its destruction is the key to Voldemort's defeat."

The long dead woman was pensively silent for a long minute before she nodded and began telling the story of what happened to the fabled diadem, how she stole it from her mother because she wanted to be more important and more clever than her.

Harry cared little for the insecurities of an idiot girl that thought a magic item would fix all her self-inflicted angst, but he kept that opinion to himself. The part where Tom Riddle recovered it from a lonely forest in Albania was of more interest.

"I doubt he would have left it there." He mused and turned back towards the Grey Lady. "You wouldn't happen to know what he did with it, would you?"

She shook her head. "No, I never saw him again after he left Hogwarts."

Harry briefly scowled, annoyed that Dumbledore had been right.

"What about Gryffindor's sword?" Even if it probably wasn't a Horcrux, there was no harm in being thorough.

"Godric was the last of the four to die." She revealed. "Whatever he did with his sword, he shared with no one."

The Sorting Hat continued to maintain its silence.

"Well, I guess that puts us back to square one, pondering what location or event is significant enough for Voldemort to commemorate with a trophy."

"The only thing I can think of is Hogwarts itself." Dumbledore admitted. "It would have marked his transition from the muggle world into the magical one, and he would have had time to hide it here when he came to ask for a job."

"Would he really have been brazen enough to hide one right under your nose?" Harry asked skeptically, then he recalled who he was talking about. "Stupid question. Of course he'd be so arrogant."

"If we are correct in this line of speculation, the only question then is _where_?" Dumbledore continued with a furrowed brow. "The Chamber of Secrets seems the logical choice, but we could not have missed it while the basilisk was being harvested."

"And it couldn't be some random classroom either. Not only would that probably not satisfy his ego, but it would surely have been discovered by now." Harry postulated.

Dumbledore had never found the Room of Requirement, except for a particular incident when he'd been in desperate need of a bathroom. What he didn't know he couldn't consider.

Harry had been shown the room by Bryanna and Tiana for their first time and had only ever used it after that as a private place to train, fuck and sometimes sleep. He had never seen it configured into the Room of Hidden Things and didn't fathom that any such place existed. Plus, since Bryanna and Tiana had themselves only found it by asking the house elves, he unthinkingly assumed that Voldemort would not have found it due to his disdain of house elves. The leap of intuition that he needed did not come.

"I will ask the house elves if they have seen the diadem." Dumbledore said when it became clear that their pondering would bear no fruit. "They clean the whole castle, including the secret rooms and passages. If it _is_ here, they would surely have found it by now."

Harry nodded, but it was clear that neither of them held out much hope.

This time it would be the phrasing of Dumbledore's request that foiled them. Neither imagined that there was a vast junkheap inside the castle, filled with the detritus of centuries. The only room in Hogwarts that the house elves didn't bother cleaning because they used it as a dumping ground for all the random crap that nobody owned anymore. They would have combed through it if they were asked to _search_ the castle for the diadem, but would only shake their heads if asked whether they had _seen_ it.

And a house elf's thought processes worked differently, so they wouldn't think to offer to search either. Their natural priorities were to take care of the people in their care, which meant cooking and cleaning. They would only search for things if told to do so because they couldn't otherwise understand that finding something might be more important than having food prepared on time or keeping things clean.

Helena had stayed as the two wizards talked and speculated on the possible location of her mother's prized diadem, hopeful that someone would find it for the first time in a very long time.

She hid her disappointment when it seemed that they would not find it.

"If that is all...?" She asked, already making to float away.

"Well, I do have a few unrelated questions if you'd be willing to answer them." Harry said, much more polite than he'd been before.

"What kind of questions?" She asked curiously.

"Mostly about the Founders. For example, Salazar Slytherin has a reputation as a blood purist these days, but that doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me. For one thing, the magical and mundane were not as separated as they are today. The vast majority of magical children would be halfbloods by today's reckoning, with only a smattering of purebloods and muggleborn among them. This whole pureblood nonsense could only have gotten properly started because Hogwarts was providing a place for so many magicals to be together, cut off completely from the mundane world. Plus, Slytherin couldn't have worked so closely with the others for such a long time if his views were so radically different from theirs."

The Grey Lady had looked annoyed at first, no doubt because it wasn't the first time that someone had badgered her for information on the Founders, but her expression had shifted into curiousity as Harry continued talking.

"You are correct, Salazar did not hate the muggleborn." She said with a nod. "He hated the muggles, this is true, but he was not alone in his feelings. All of us disdained them in those times, ignorant, filthy and violent brutes that they were. Even now, it remains hard for me to fathom that they could have changed as much as I have heard. The point of dissent was that Salazar advocated that any magical children they produce be taken from them permanently as soon as they were discovered. He was not a forgiving man, and had seen more of their cruelties than the others."

"I would have agreed with him." Harry mused. "Back in those days, Europe was drowning in war, filth, ignorance, disease and religion and the rest of the world wasn't much better. Take their kids and leave behind a few coins if you're feeling generous. They have one less mouth to feed and more money to do it with and the kids get to develop their gifts away from people that would probably kill them at the first sign of accidental magic. Everybody wins."

"Salazar gave much the same argument, you remind me of him greatly in fact." Helena smiled. "My mother would have also agreed with him out of pragmatism, but Godric and Helga thought it too harsh. In the end they agreed to do this only where it was deemed necessary. It often was."

"Why did he leave then?" Dumbledore asked, fascinated by this new perspective.

"There was... an altercation." The Grey Lady said cautiously. "One of the muggleborn children that hadn't been taken from his family assaulted Salazar's favored granddaughter. Salazar's response was...extreme. He killed the boy, his friends and their families in retaliation. I never learned the full story, but things were never the same after that. Salazar eventually left rather than continue being at odds at the others."

"That would do it." Harry nodded.

"You sound approving." Helena noted.

"I do approve. Some things you can't let go or else you'll always be a victim."

"But surely Slytherin's response was much too severe?" Dumbledore inserted his own opinion.

"Maybe it was and maybe it wasn't." Harry shrugged uncaringly. "It sure _sounds_ excessive, but I'm not willing to cmmit to that without the full story, which we'll probably never have."

XXXXX

 _August 12th, Washington State, Seattle._

David Jones made his way towards the restaurant, still feeling a bit uncertain about this whole thing.

It had all started with an ad in the newspaper about a week and a half ago. 'Seeking former military combat veteran for consultation, minimum rank of major' it said, along with an e-mail address on where to send qualifications and assurances that the pay would be good.

David had been a lieutenant colonel when he lost his leg and been honorably discharged, so he fit the criteria. The promised pay sounded good, but what really got his interest was the chance to do something again.

It was hard, coming back from war and trying to adjust to being a civilian again. Talking to people who had never experienced it sometimes felt like they were on opposite sides of those glass panes they had in prison for when visitors wanted to talk to an inmate. You might be able to hear each other, but it was two different worlds.

He hadn't really been able to hold down a job for much the same reason, it all just seemed so banal. Not to mention that he was pretty bad with computers and there weren't many jobs that a man with one leg could do that didn't involve them these days. He supposed he could have taken the desk job he was offered, but he had always been a field operative, not a pencil pusher. And the pity inherent in the offer wasn't very appealing either.

He got by with his veteran's pension, but just drifting from day to day with nothing to do wasn't doing his state of mind any favors. So he called a guy he knew that was good with computers and asked for his help in figuring out this e-mail thing.

A couple of days later, he got a call from a pleasant-sounding British girl that introduced herself as Penny. She said that he'd made the short list of applicants and asked if he was still interested in working for Lord Potter.

David had been baffled by that one. What the hell did a British lord want a combat consultation for? Didn't those guys just sit around all day doing nothing and drinking tea?

Still, he'd confirmed that he was still interested. Now here he was, about to meet the man.

Penny had said that he wouldn't be able to miss him. Long black hair, green eyes and extensive facial scarring did sound pretty unmissable, David conceded, but it only served to baffle him even more. How the hells did a British lord get his face mauled?

He pushed open the door of the restaurant and looked it over in search of his quarry. Like Penny had said, he was quite unmissable and David saw him sitting in a corner immediately.

If pressed, David would admit to having almost expected the man to be dressed up like some ridiculous peacock on account of him being a lord, but he looked shockingly normal instead. He wasn't even wearing a suit, just a T-shirt and some rather nice pants.

As David made his way closer, he also noticed that his face wasn't the only thing scarred on him. His right arm was sporting burn scarring all the way up to the elbow and his left had what looked like claw marks going down from the shoulder.

Not just some soft aristocrat then, David concluded. One set of scars could be waved off as the result of an accident or stupidity, but that many combined with his strong physique and the easy self-assurance he held himself pointed in another direction.

"Mr. Potter?" David inquired once he reached the table. He couldn't really bring himself to address the man as a lord, even if he was one. It just sounded so pretentious to his American sensibilities.

"Yes." Potter drawled with a smirk on his face, apparently amused rather than offended. "And you must be Lieutenant Colonel Jones, US Army, retired."

It had been a long time since anyone had called him that. He'd missed it.

The man stood up and they shook hands. David noted that Potter's eyes were not just green, but _green_.

He was reminded of an old classmate from high school, a beautiful girl that half the school seemed to have a crush on. She'd had green eyes too, but compared to Potter's they seemed dull and colorless in his memory, whereas his almost seemed to glow in their sockets and glittered like gemstones.

He must leave jealous women everywhere he went, with his shiny black hair and his overly pretty eyes. Probably had no trouble getting them to drop their panties either, even aside from the fact that he was no doubt rich.

"Please have a seat and order yourself something to eat if you want. It's on me." Potter said, gesturing towards the chair opposite to him.

David maneuvered himself into the offered chair with practiced care and decided to take the offer of a paid for meal when the waitress arrived to take their orders.

He noted with both amusement and nostalgia that said waitress was putting out clear signals of interest when she spoke to Potter. It reminded him of the times when he and his friends would go out to eat and flirt with the waitresses.

Potter didn't seem terribly interested in the waitress though. He humored her, but it was fairly clear that he wouldn't be asking her out or anything like that.

The lunch was spent with David talking in broad terms about his time fighting in the Middle East, his training, military education at West Point, experience in leading men and that kind of thing. It felt a lot like a job interview actually, which he supposed it was.

When it was time to go, Potter paid with a single hundred dollar bill and told the waitress to keep the change, somethig which had her ramping up the interest signals to nearly indecent levels in return.

"That happen to you a lot?" David asked with amusement a little while after they stepped out of the restaurant, referencing the expert way that Potter had turned down the waitress.

"More than you'd think." Potter replied with a smirk. "Some women are turned off by the scars, but quite a lot of them find them either mysterious or get the strange urge to take care of me."

"How'd you get them anyway?" David took the chance to ask. He'd been burning with curiousity for the whole time, but hadn't wanted to be rude.

"This one I got from botching a fireball spell back when I was fourteen." Potter said, showing off his burned right arm.

"What?" David asked incredulously. Fireball spell? Did Potter think he was some kind of wizard or something?

Potter ignored him and rubbed at his scarred cheek. "My face was the result of some recreational tomb raiding in Egypt. The five thousand-year-old mummy inside it wasn't too happy about having visitors you see."

"Umm." David had no idea what to say to that.

"And this one..." Potter went on, now rubbing at the upper bicep of his left arm. "Let's just say that one of my girlfriends has a tendency to grow a wicked set of talons when she gets angry enough."

"Umm..." David had no idea what to say to that either. Potter had seemed so normal back in the restaurant, now he was talking crazy all of a sudden.

He also abruptly noticed that the two of them were alone in an abandoned alley. When did they get here? David didn't remember walking into an alley.

"Don't worry, it'll all make sense soon." Potter assured and grabbed his arm.

The world twisted and David had a horrible feeling of being squeezed through a garden hose, then it was over and he was gasping for breath on the ground.

"Sorry about that, but you wouldn't have believed me even if I tried to warn you." Potter said unsympathetically.

David ignored the offered hand and struggled to his feet on his own, a difficult task with a prosthetic leg but he sure as hell wasn't going to accept help from Potter right now.

"What the fuck is going on?!" He bellowed in confusion, seeing that they were now in a well-appointed study somehow. And the light outside indicated that it was heading towards evening where it had been mid afternoon before.

"What you just experienced was Apparition, a teleportation technique employed by wizards and witches for instantaneus long distance travel." Potter explained patiently.

That didn't help David one bit, but it did replace some of his anger with even more confusion.

"You're saying that you're a...wizard?" He said, still skeptical despite what had just happened. He hadn't had time to process yet.

Potter conjured a fireball in his hand, tossed it up like a basketball, made it turn purple, twisted it into a hoop shape and finally dispersed it.

"Yes." He drawled with an amused smirk on his face.

David couldn't even get annoyed by the...wizard's...obvious amusement. The ground under his feet felt unsteady as his world view took a fatal hit.

"I need to sit down." He said weakly.

Potter made a 'come hither' sort of gesture and a chair moved up behind him. Then he handed him a glass and poured a goodly amount of expensive-looking alcohol into it, which David chugged almost desperately.

"Thanks." He said shakily.

The next few minutes passed in silence as he tried to wrap his head around this new reality that had been presented to him. Magic was real. He had so many questions, but no idea where to start.

So...magic, huh?" He finally managed. "Are there, uh, others like you?"

"Not quite like me, but there are plenty of other wizards and witches out there." Potter replied.

The following thirty minutes was spent giving David a brief overview of the hidden magical world. The notion that there was an entire secret society of magic users hidden behind spells was damn hard to wrap his head around.

"How could you possibly have stayed hidden so effectively?" He asked, baffled.

"Like I said, spells to deflect attention and memory wipes. They're quite effective. You also shouldn't underestimate the power of people's weirdness censor. Even after I apparated you here, you were looking for ways to deny the obvious. Aside from that it's also highly illegal to reveal magic to mundanes."

"You broke the law to tell me this stuff?"

"Not exactly. This is my island and on it I'm a king for all intents and purposes even if I don't call myself one. Telling you about magic wasn't illegal for me so much as it was risking a diplomatic incident by not asking the North American magical government for permission first."

David nodded, oddly comforted by the fact that politics was still the same even with magic added to the mix. "Why would you do that, though?"

"Because the magical world has no professional soldiers." Potter explained. "The closest it has are the Aurors, which is an elite police force. I'm currently engaged in a war against a very powerful, very unhinged wizard that tried to murder me when I was a baby and isn't going to stop until he's either brought the world to ruin or dead. We've muddled through in our efforts against him so far, but after seeing how chaotic things got in a pitched battle I decided that I had to bring in some professional help, so here you are."

"Here I am." David repeated, having not quite shaken off the surreal feeling. "Why me? Why put an ad in the papers at all, why not just go to a private military contractor?"

"Too much attention. Ideally, I would have been able to use someone with the necessary skills that already knows about the magical world, but I have no quick or easy way of tracking such a person down, if they even exist. A vague ad in the paper and revealing magic to one person seemed a lot safer."

"I see." David nodded thoughtfully. "So what would you want me to do?"

"I can show you memories of the battles we've fought so far so that you can critique them. I'd also ask you to teach my people some of the basic combat necessities and tactics that may be obvious to you but have eluded us. I can pay you in any currency you want, even in gold bars if that strikes your fancy. I could also give you your leg back, although that would require some sacrifices on your part to avoid drawing attention."

"You can give me my leg back?" David asked in shock.

"I've dabbled in fleshcrafting." Potter said with a tight smile.

That sounded ominous. "What if I refuse?"

"Then you will find yourself back at your home, believing that today's meeting didn't pan out. That's what happened to the two men that I spoke to before you, actually. One had deeply ingrained prejudices that our admittedly basic screening hadn't caught and the other asked about our ability to heal and was outraged when he learned that we don't use it to help the rest of mankind. Apparently he had a sister that died of cancer recently and was quite irrational about it."

" _Could_ you have cured cancer?" David asked curiously. His own father had died of cancer almost fifteen years ago now. It had been a horrible, lingering death.

"Yes and no." Potter said. "I, or someone more specialised in healing, could have perhaps healed an _individual_ , but we couldn't cure the affliction itself. Magic isn't something that can be automated or mass produced."

"You'd have to be there for every individual case." David surmised. He already knew what would happen if magical healing became known to the public. The greedy rich fucks would get all the benefits while the masses were left out to dry, same as always.

"Yes." Potter nodded. "Don't get me wrong, there _are_ potions that can be bottled and sold in a store and a skilled enough potions master might be able to develop one that would target only the cancer cells, but you run into a similar problem. Even if the potion doesn't contain any materials so rare that they make the potion impossible to brew on a large scale, most wizards and witches simply don't have the skill to make anything other than very basic potions. And those of us who _do_ have the skill have other things we want to do with our time than helping people we don't know or care about, and who are probably sick due to their own poor life choices in the first place."

"Wait a second." David said, suddenly realising something. "You don't already have a treatment for cancer? Do wizards not get it or something?"

"The answer to that is rather complicated, but the short version is that our magic protects us from most diseases, birth defects and other things that mundane people suffer from. As a tradeoff, we can get afflicted by magical germs, parasites or fungi that you are safe from. Scrofungulus, for example, is a sort of flesh-eating magical fungus which usually starts growing on the neck and spreads rapidly across the body if left untreated, eventually burrowing down into the muscle and then into the organs, until it finally reaches the spinal cord and brain, killing its host. It's fortunately easy to treat and quite unmissable, but there are others that are more problematic."

David really wasn't sure who had the better deal. Cancer was bad, but on the other hand...flesh-eating magical fungus. He decided to change the subject.

"So, if I agree I get my leg back and I get paid to train your people so that you can take down your crazy wizard and if I refuse I get my memory wiped and go on as if today never happened." He summarised.

"That's about the size of it."

David knew that Potter could be lying to him about who the bad guy in this story was, but he didn't think that he was. The wizard had laid it all out and answered all questions asked of him with blunt honesty even when the facts were unpleasant and he had not tried to pretend that he wasn't something of a bastard.

"You mentioned needing to make sacrifices to get my leg back. What kind of sacrifices?"

"Moving to a different country at the minimum, perhaps even faking your death if that's what it takes. A man suddenly getting his leg back is the type of thing that draws attention, you understand."

It didn't really take much thinking for him to decide. What did he have holding him back anyway? An ex-wife that had cheated on him while he'd been at war, no kids, no girlfriend, no close friends, no job, a brother he spoke to maybe a few times a year over the phone...no, there was nothing he'd be sad to leave behind.

"Alright, you've got yourself a deal."

"Excellent, I was getting tired of going through this song and dance over and over."

XXXXX

 _August 18th. Ravenhead._

Harry was by nature a reclusive sort of person, needing little social contact and plenty of solitude. Harry also had a high-functioning and downright demanding libido thanks to the runes he'd carved into his flesh, which required regular social contact of the sticky kind.

By all rights, this contradiction should have spelled the doom of any attempt at a sustained relationship. His other attributes would have drawn women in at first, but his habit of shutting himself away to do his own thing until he got horny would have inevitably created resentment and soured anything deeper than a friends with benefits relationship.

He had dodged this pitfall during his first relationship with Dora because they had still been getting to know each other during the summer and had spent most of their time apart later on when he went back to Hogwarts. And there were also the effects of the Joining to consider...

But it had been Luna and her unblinking acceptance of people as they were that had really been the deciding factor. Harry had not even been aware of what his behavior looked like to other people until she had, with her typical insightful directness, pointed it out.

He remembered the event very clearly. Fleur had been trying to coax him to spend time with her, but he had been annoyed with her attempts because he wanted to continue working on whatever project had been holding his attention at the time. That had gotten the veela huffy and she'd started to complain about feeling neglected.

Then Luna had chimed in and exposed the underlying problem in such a way that left both him and Fleur feeling dumb for not seeing it themselves.

Harry had since then been making a conscious effort to be more attentive to Fleur, Luna and later Dora when she joined the group, even if he sometimes really didn't feel like it. Fleur and Dora had in turn made an effort to not take it personally when he got carried away and temporarily forgot they existed. Luna didn't need to make an effort because she'd never taken it personally.

Then came the fateful day when a Time Turner was swiped from the Department of Mysteries. Suddenly, the possibility existed for him to be doing two things at once.

Harry was very pleased with how much easier it suddenly was to juggle his magical studies and his interpersonal relationships. It had been murder on his sleep schedule and he estimated that he was already several months older than he should be, but that was deemed to be of secondary importance.

However, Harry had never once been satisfied with simply using a bit of magic. No, he always felt the need to dissect it and see if it couldn't be taken further.

Temporal mechanics were neither simple nor safe to meddle with of course, nor was there anything solid discovered by mundane science that wizards had thus far ignored as had been the case with the Philosopher's Stone, so progress was slow.

But there was progress. The first thing that Harry sussed out was why Time Turners were so damn lmited in their effects.

Simply put, the universe had a thing he was calling 'temporal inertia'. Everything and everyone contributed to this temporal inertia with their existence, creating something that one might whimsically refer to as 'fate'. The goddamn Eldar knew what they were talking about when they said 'we are shaped by fate just as we shape it'.

But a time traveler was in constant discord with the universe, or with 'fate' if you prefer.

Some people were said to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. This was of course meant subjectively. A time traveler was _objectively_ in the wrong place at the wrong time, _all the time_. Every single thing they did while in the past created ripples in reality, unseen and unfelt by physical senses, but detectable via magic because it existed outside of time.

Small actions could be gotten away with. The timestream would simply flow over the irritant and things would work out as they should, even if minute changes to events might be made.

There were no records or even rumors of a time traveler succeeding in making major changes to the past. Harry strongly doubted this was for lack of trying given how reckless and desperate people could be. There was really no way to safely determine what happened when it was attempted.

Harry wondered sometimes if the Unspeakables knew this stuff. Probably, they did supposedly study it after all. Unless the Department of Mysteries was just there to hoard cool shit and act mysterious while doing nothing, but that seemed a little unlikely.

In any case, Harry had researched this in the hope that he might be able to use time travel to cheat his way to an easy victory against Voldemort and any other problems that might crop up in the future. Alas, his experiments had proven with sufficient reliability that there was no way to avoid being viewed as a foreign temporal element by the universe when engaging in time travel.

Harry might sometimes act like an idiot child that kept sticking his fingers into the electrical socket over and over where dangerous magic was concerned, but he had no desire provoke the universe into deleting him from the timestream or something like that and reluctantly abandoned that line of research. It would have been different if he had some idea how far he could push his luck, but that was kind of the problem with time travel – if you fucked up you'd never know, nor would anyone else in all likelihood.

That being said, he didn't abandon meddling with time entirely. Going back and changing the past might have turned out to be a bust, but there were other applications that had considerably less risk of running afoul temporal inertia, less than a Time Turner even.

So it was that after months of research, experimentation and reading up everything on the nature of space and time he could find whether it be magical or mundane in origin, Harry carved the final rune on the door to his personal Hyperbolic Time Chamber.

A tiny little wrinkle in time, a small eddy in the river, a place where one second became one hundred seconds. It was perhaps his greatest achievement to date aside from the Philosopher's Stone.

It would give him time to work on stuff without neglecting his personal life.

It would allow him to advance his knowledge without feeling as if he was constantly behind schedule on _something_.

...and he suspected that he would need it to have any hope of making even a passable attempt at parenting when that situation inevitably happened. He knew himself well enough to know that a no child zone where he could spend several days without being bothered or missed would be crucial if he was to maintain what sanity he had left.

XXXXX

 _August 19th. Ravenhead._

Harry generally had at least a dozen major and minor projects running at any given time. When he got bored or stumped with one, he moved on to another. Now with the fight against Voldemort apparently heating up, he felt the need to prioritise.

That was why he had focused exclusively on the Hyperbolic Time Chamber since the attack on Spellhaven. It would give him more time to work with in a more convenient fashion than the Time Turner.

Since that was done, it was time to refocus his attention on another minor project that he had been neglecting for a long while now.

Harry activated the Resurrection Stone and called out the name of the spirit he wished to summon.

"Imhotep."

The Ancient Egyptian sorcerer-priest faded into view. Short, bald and withered with age, but he could still muster up a fearsome glare.

"Why do you keep summoning me, blasphemer?" The former lich hissed angrily in his native tongue. "I will tell you nothing!"

Harry had of course tried to use the Resurrection Stone to pry some knowledge out of Imhotep before, but he had proven uncooperative.

"So you've said." Harry acknowledged in the same language. "But perhaps you would be interested in a bargain?"

"And what do you think you can offer me, affront to the gods?"

Harry held back a frustrated sigh. _Fucking priests._ You'd think that death would have cured this bony fucker of his religious leanings, but apparently not. Either they retained no memory of what death was like when not summoned by the Resurrection Stone, or else the experience was entirely subjective and their beliefs skewed their perceptions beyond any hope of objectivity. For certain, he had not received even two identical answers on what it was like to be dead.

At least he wasn't just flat out declaring that he wouldn't accept any bargains. It had taken a lot of softening up to get the old bastard to this point.

Instead of replying, he summoned the dementors he had enslaved. The sheer _outrage_ on Imhotep's ghostly face was beautiful.

"Now you cavort with these shadow demons, who steal men's souls and deny them the judgement of Anubis? Have you no shame?" The dead man spat accusingly.

"Not much of it, no." Harry replied honestly. "Anyway, the bargain I offer is as follows. Teach me your spells and the secrets of your staff's construction and I will destroy these and all others of their kind."

To prove that he could, he drew on the Sun and conjured of blazing sphere of Light magic, the plunged it into the closest dementor.

It poofed silently out of existence, leaving nothing behind but a greasy black dust and a slight lessening of the oppressive atmosphere. The other dementors didn't even twitch at the destruction of their fellow, still bound by his will.

Harry busied himself with wiping dementor residue off his hand while Imhotep processed the situation.

"I do not understand you, blasphemer." The ancient sorcerer finally said, in a rather complaining tone in Harry's opinion. "You consort with demons of both fire and shadow. I sensed the Dark in you when we fought, yet you can draw upon Ra's Light. The disparity should have slain you, how is it that you live?"

"I am the first of the Dark Sun, and the last. My coming was foretold by prophecy and no others will follow in my footsteps." Harry replied, using some portentous ye olde language both because it would have more impact with Imhotep than a technical explanation and because Ancient Egyptian didn't have the vernacular for it anyway.

There was a long silence and Harry could almost see the gears – or whatever the Ancient Egyptian equivalent was – turning in Imhotep's head.

"You will destroy the shadow demons? All of them?" He finally asked.

"Yes." Eventually.

"And you will teach no others your ways?"

"Yes." Lying was a very important life skill and the dead man couldn't sense the falsehood, although there really wouldn't be any more wizards like him unless they could repeat his truly ridiculous set of extenuating circumstances.

"…I have stayed too long in the living world. Summon me again tomorrow and we will speak further."

XXXXX

 _August 23rd. Spellhaven._

"Tell me if I'm rubbing too hard, alright?" Luna said.

"Do it harder if you can." The sphinx nicknamed Kitty purred in pleasure.

Luna put a determined look on her face and gave it her all, massaging shampoo into the sphinx's scalp with zeal.

Kitty sighed and resisted the urge to plop bonelessly onto her side. That would dislodge the naked human girl on her back and interrupt the scalp massage.

For several minutes, the only sound was the deep rumbling purr of the sphinx and the occasional giggle from Luna when the fur tickled her legs or private parts.

She really didn't understand why people were so afraid of sphinxes, those mean European politicians were even implying that Harry was crazy because he kept them on the island. Sure they were big, magic resistant and strong enough to shatter stone with their paws, but they never hurt anyone that didn't pick a fight with them or try to take something they were guarding.

"Luna?" Fleur's voice called from the air, breaking the almost meditative atmosphere. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you."

"What is it, Fleur?" Luna asked, slowing down her efforts to look up at the veela levitating in the air.

Unseen by the two witches, Kitty pouted.

"I need your help with something." Fleur explained and took a humorous look at the scene below. "If you are almost done here that is."

"My arms are getting a bit tired." Luna admitted. "Could you give us a little water?"

Fleur nodded and waved her wand, conjuring a gentle stream of warm water.

"Close your eyes, Kitty." Luna instructed and began washing out the shampoo and then using a very minor wandless spell to dry off the hair.

"There!" She declared when she was done, feeling very pleased with herself.

"Thank you, my friend." Kitty purred. "I look forward to your next visit."

"Me too." Luna beamed and swung herself off the sphinx's back.

Kitty shook the water out of her fur, making Luna squeal as she was sprayed.

"My apologies." The sphinx said with clear amusement and bounded off.

"A sphinx that plays pranks." Fleur muttered and landed. "Now I've seen everything."

Luna looked up at her quizzically. How could Fleur have seen everything when she hadn't even seen a dragon eat ice cream or a dog do a handstand or a chicken ride a bicycle or a crumple-horned snorkack juggle or…..come to think of it, Fleur had actually seen very little.

She decided to give her a kiss to bring her back to sensibility. It was only supposed to be a short kiss, but Luna sensed that Fleur was actually quite aroused. Seeing as Kitty's purring had been causing her massive body to vibrate between Luna's legs, she was actually pretty aroused herself, so it all worked out.

Except that Fleur broke off after a minute with a gasp. "Luna, wait. Stop!"

"Why?" Luna asked guilelessly. "Didn't you come here because you wanted to get your vagina licked? I want mine licked too, so what's the problem? We can sixty-nine!"

"Normally I would love to take you up on that, but I need your help with something else and we probably don't have a lot of time."

"Oh." Luna was nonplussed. "Will there be sex? Because I'm really in the mood right now and I don't feel like doing something else unless it's important."

"Yes, there will be sex, but you won't be having it with me."

"Oh, okay. Who will I be having it with then?"

"Hopefully with Harry and my sister."

"You convinced Harry to have sex with Gabrielle?" Luna asked with a big smile. She knew how much Fleur's little sister wanted to boink Harry and was happy for her. Then she frowned in slight confusion. "But why would they need my help? Harry is quite good at it."

"I didn't exactly _convince_ him to have sex with Gabby." The veela said evasively.

"Oh, so it's going to be a surprise." Luna realized. "How can I help?"

Fleur swept her up into a hug. "You are a treasure. Let's go back to the cháteau and I will explain everything."

"Okay."

"Luna."

"What?"

"Your clothes."

"Oh, right."

XXXXX

"Oooh, Aging Potion!" Luna exclaimed with some admiration when she saw the bottle. "Unless Harry was just making excuses, then this should definitely work."

"We thought so as well." Fleur said with satisfaction.

"How much should I drink?" Gabrielle asked, nervously eyeballing the potion.

"Hmmm, about…..this much." Fleur said, pouring a certain amount into another vial.

"Fleur, that's enough to make me look at least twenty-five!" Gabrielle squawked in protest.

"It _is_ a bit young." Luna commiserated and turned to the other veela. "Are you sure you aren't being a bit too conservative? You know that Harry's favorite age is around thirty-five."

"I was thinking more like eighteen." Gabrielle muttered to herself.

"I don't want to feed his weird fetishes too much." Fleur huffed. "His BDSM kink is bad enough, but at least we have Septima taking one for the team with that one. If he thinks I'm going to let myself age past twenty-eight at the most he has another thing coming."

"You say that as if you have a choice." The younger veela said, staring at her sister in bemusement.

Luna stealthily fired a spell at Gabrielle designed to blank out her short-term memory.

"Luna!" Fleur protested.

"Sorry, Fleur. You know that Harry wants _it_ kept secret."

"Kept what secret?" Gabrielle asked, shaking off the sudden confusion that had gripped her.

Luna scrambled her short-term memory again.

"LUNA!"

"Maybe we should just get on with the plan?" Luna suggested.

"What plan?" Gabrielle asked, frowning in confusion.

"The plan to get Harry to have sex with you."

"Oh, right. Sorry, I think I didn't get enough sleep last night. Zoned out a bit there."

"It happens." Luna shrugged. "Where is Harry anyway?"

"He slipped into….that special room of his just before I came to get you." Fleur said.

Ah, his Hyperbolic Time Chamber. Ever since he'd finished it, Harry had been going in there and coming back out an hour or so later sporting several days worth of beard growth. He had a bed and a bathroom in there, but relied on that alchemical stuff of his for sustenance. It drove the house elves crazy.

This was perfect actually, because it would mean that he'd come out in need of a good boinking.

"What special room?" Gabrielle asked curiously.

Luna scrambled her short-term memory yet _again_.

" _LUNA!_ "

Luna made a mental note to have Harry talk to Fleur about secrets and how to keep them. She was clearly treating this whole thing a bit too casually.

"What about Nymphadora?" She asked. The metamorphmagus was rather less flexible than Harry and had trouble accepting that Gabrielle was a sexually maturing veela rather than a human.

"I will handle her." Fleur said tersely, which confused Luna a little bit. What was that tone for?

"Alright, then Gabrielle can set herself up in the bedroom and I'll lead Harry to it." Luna said with a nod.

"Where is Harry anyway?" Gabrielle asked curiously.

"He's…." Fleur began.

Luna fingered her wand behind the younger veela's back.

"….working on something."

Luna nodded. That was better.

XXXXX

 _Ravenhead._

Luna waited in front of the door of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, frowning at it. She'd been here for a while now and the counter that Harry had put near the door showed nearly two hours, which would translate to just over a week if her calculations were correct. That was longer than he'd ever spent in there in one go.

Luna hoped that he wasn't pushing himself too hard. She knew how much it bothered him that Voldemort had still been a better fighter than him and whatever he was working on in there was probably meant to give him an edge.

Another ten minutes passed quietly, which equated to over sixteen hours for Harry, before Luna felt an odd sense of vertigo. That was the normal flow of time re-establishing itself within the Chamber. Harry had likened it to an airlock when explaining it to them. Good thing that Luna learned what an airlock was from some of the films they'd watched together, or he'd have needed to explain that too.

The stone doors opened and Harry stepped out, cocking his head at her in confusion.

"Luna?" He questioned with a frown.

"Hi, Harry!" She beamed and launched herself at him. "Did you miss me?"

"Yes." His reply was a bit bemused, but his hands were already wandering.

"You look handsome with a beard." Luna informed him, scratching at his cheeks as if he was a cat. With how fast and thick his facial hair grew, eight days was enough for him to be sporting a full beard, if a very short one.

Well, not _quite_ a full beard. The hair didn't grow over the scars on the left side of his face anymore.

"You think so, do you?" He grinned.

"Mhm." Luna nodded seriously.

"Even if I do…..this?" He asked and stuck his face into the crook of her neck before giving her a beard rub.

Luna squealed with laughter and squirmed in his embrace as the coarse hair prickled at her skin.

"Still like the beard?" He asked teasingly.

"Yes." She said simply and pulled him down into a kiss.

As expected, Harry quickly became a lot more handsy than a kiss warranted and was clearly looking to go further. While Luna's initial arousal from sitting on a purring sphinx had faded, it was now quickly coming back, which was why she only pulled away reluctantly.

"What is it?" Harry questioned. No doubt he could sense her arousal and was confused by her actions.

"Catch me if you can." Luna said impishly, spun around and started running back towards the portal mirror.

She heard Harry snort with laughter and give chase.

"Oi, what the fuck?!" She heard him curse when he crashed into the transparent plastic wrap she'd set up in the hallway at head height for him. Completely non-magical so that his Magesight couldn't see it.

Luna didn't bother to keep her giggling quiet. His legs were a lot longer than hers and he'd have caught her before she even made it to the portal mirror if she didn't slow him down.

More cursing came from behind her as Harry stumbled over the tripwire she'd left for him.

"I'll kiss your boo-boos if you catch me, Haaaarry~." She teasingly yelled back. She was having so much fun that she decided to prank Harry more in the future.

Indistinct disgruntled noises were the only reply she received.

With her pursuer slowed down either by caution or by her little surprises, Luna made it back to the cháteau with a comfortable lead and quickly dashed towards the master bedroom.

It was dark, lit only by candles and the fireplace. Gabrielle was already there, looking to be in her twenties and gently masturbating on their bed. Judging by the light sheen of moisture on her body, she'd been at it for a while.

"Luna!" The young veela gasped in surprise and then scowled. "Where were you?! You were supposed to be here nearly an hour ago!"

Well that wasn't true. It was more like forty-five minutes.

"Harry took longer to finish up than I expected." She said, quickly stripping off her clothes and deciding not to comment on the exaggeration. "He'll be here soon though, so we'd best get ready."

Gabrielle gained a look of nervous excitement, the same kind that one would have after something they wanted for a while was finally going to happen. She nearly pounced on Luna and had to be reminded that Harry would be coming soon and to pace herself.

Luna had a rather different view of Gabrielle than either Harry or Nymphadora. To her, the young veela was Fleur's little sister and a friend besides. Of course she would do everything she could to help. Even if Gabrielle were human, she wouldn't have really paid her youth any mind, instead simply accepting that she could make her own decisions regardless of age. Even if they were potentially bad decisions, she wouldn't have seen it as her place to prevent Gabrielle from making them.

That was why she'd been happy to join in on the fun when Fleur had invited her to help with Gabrielle's budding sexuality and why she was happy to help now.

They had barely been at it for a couple of minutes when the door opened and Harry rushed in.

"Hello, Harry." The two naked blondes cooed in unison.

"Oh." He said, blinking. "I see."

"I hope you didn't have too much trouble with my traps." Luna said, getting off the bed and making her way towards him.

Harry frowned down at her. "I think you've been saving the biggest trap for last."

Luna giggled and poked her tongue out of her mouth.

Gabrielle swung her much-longer-than-usual legs off the bed, making sure that her much-more-developed-than-normal chest bounced enticingly.

"Is that how you see me, Harry?" She asked with a pout as she also made her way towards him, running her hands up her body the whole way. "A trap?"

Harry's mouth twitched into a smile. "I don't think you realise what it means to refer to a person as a trap. In any case, I was talking about the situation. Been hitting the Aging Potion, have you?"

Luna kept her hands busy undoing his clothes and fondling his crotch while Gabrielle talked. She wanted Harry to focus on the young veela after all.

"You said that you weren't interested in me because I _looked_ young not because I _was_ young." Gabrielle said with her best breathy voice, pressing her naked body up against his other side. She was a bit clumsy and unpolished, but there was no hesitation or fear in her actions.

"I did." Harry admitted.

"Do you like the way I look at this age?" Gabrielle continued, a small note of nervousness now present in her tone.

"I do." He admitted again, reaching around to rub his hand across her naked back.

Luna smiled widely to herself at the way that Gabrielle gasped and arched her back into the touch.

"Kiss me." The young veela demanded more than asked.

Luna had to restrain the urge to hop in place gleefully when Harry did just that. It had worked! Judging by how aggressive he was about it, he had been exerting considerable willpower to hold on to his self-control. Harry was always fun when he was pent up.

It took some doing to relieve Harry of his shirt with the way that Gabrielle seemed determined to stay attached to his lips, but Luna convinced her to let up for a second by guiding her hand towards the bulge in his pants.

The young veela let out a distinctly hungry groan and started making a hurried path of kisses down Harry's hairy chest, going down on her knees within seconds.

Luna did the same, and the two of them teamed up to liberate Harry's member from his pants.

As soon as it sprung out of his underwear, Gabrielle grabbed it and shoved it into her mouth without fanfare.

Harry grunted in discomfort at the rough handling and Luna knew that she needed to intervene. She moved behind Gabrielle and hugged her, one hand on her stomach and the other on a breast.

"Slow down, it's not going to run away." She said into the eager young veela's ear, giving her an approving squeeze when she listened. "Good, that's it. It can hurt for men too, so use plenty of spit…."

Luna was enjoying herself quite a lot in her mentor role. She'd been the student in the relationship before, so this was a nice turnaround.

And Gabrielle was such a good student! She listened to instructions eagerly and executed them flawlessly. Even once Luna started using her own hands to stimulate her and Gabrielle started shaking and groaning in arousal, she kept her eyes focused upwards, somehow knowing instinctively that it would further stimulate Harry. Maybe it was a veela thing? Fleur did say that veela had naturally good instincts at anything sex related.

With Harry being as pent up as he was, there was no way for him to last long against that kind of assault and he was grunting out his climax in short order.

Luna stepped up her rubbing when she sense that it was about to happen, and held Gabrielle tightly when the young veela shuddered in climax and groaned deeply, greedily gulping down the magically potent seed spilling into her mouth. Her magic flared outwards uncontrollably, looking to initiate a Joining with both Harry and Luna, but they kept themselves closed off. They kept that confined to each other, Fleur and Nymphadora now.

"Wow." Gabrielle breathed when the initial high passed, panting for breath.

She sounded and looked so dazed that Luna had to giggle. Then she wiped a bit off runoff semen from the corner of the young veela's mouth with her finger.

"You missed a little." She teased, holding the finger in front of Gabrielle, who cleaned it off with relish.

"Damn, I am _so_ jealous of Fleur right now. She gets to have this and more all the time." Gabrielle sighed.

"Envious." Harry muttered just loud enough for Luna to hear.

"You haven't even taken it in the vagina yet." Luna pointed out. "The Aging Potion is still good for several hours and Harry's penis will be hard again any second now."

"Yes." Gabrielle breathed, staring at the organ in question with a thirsty gleam in her eye before looking up into Harry's eyes with determination. "I want you to fill me up until my belly bloats."

Luna noted that all signs of nervousness in Gabrielle had been completely wiped out. She must be running completely on instinct already.

And by the look on Harry's face, he found the suggestion to be very enticing.

There was only one thing to do now.

"Make sure to leave some for me though." She reminded. Just because it was fun to watch the faces people made when they had sex didn't mean that she didn't want some for herself.

XXXXX

Tonks yawned and scratched that itchy spot under her left tit as she approached the breakfast table, absently lengthening her nails so that they scratched better.

"Good morning, Nymphadora." Luna greeted serenely, breaking through the fog of sleep like a ray of metaphorical sunshine.

Tonks mumbled back a similar greeting of her own, so desensitized to the use of her full name by now that she couldn't even muster a flicker of irritation. It wasn't as if Luna had ever listened to her requests to stop using it in the past.

That was when her eyes registered the presence of Fleur's little sister at the table in addition to the usual suspects, wearing nothing but an open silk robe and a satisfied grin. The very picture of woman that got laid real good and felt smug about it. It was bloody uncomfortable seeing that expression on a preteen girl, no matter how many times Fleur explained that it was normal and even necessary for veela to start having sex as soon as puberty kicked in.

Puzzle pieces started coming together. Fleur had brought her a little after dinner snack that she'd baked herself, some kind of pastry made with honey. It had looked good and Tonks had munched on several pieces without thinking about it. Almost immediately afterwards, she'd become extremely horny and realized that Fleur had probably used Marae's Nectar rather than honey for her culinary efforts.

The veela had apologized for her 'mistake', rather insincerely it had to be said, and offered to take care of the problem. Several hours of sticky fun in one of the cháteau's unused rooms had followed and then they'd fallen asleep right there, too sleepy and worn out to get back to their own bedroom.

"Harry, you didn't." She groaned in exasperation, knowing full well that he had. Unlike her, he had been able to accept the differences of the veela species much more easily.

Harry shrugged. "She was under the effects of Aging Potion."

"That's not the point." Tonks sighed, privately wondering why she even bothered.

Harry shrugged again. "It was for me."

"Fine, but don't come crying to me if the veela designate you as the primary deflowerer for their young." The metamorphmagus muttered and pulled a plate of fruit slices towards her. "They already treat you like some kind of rare delicacy."

"You're quite the delicacy yourself, Nymmie." Fleur teased.

"Thanks." Tonks said dryly.

Fleur and Gabrielle grinned at each other, amused by the foibles of humans.

The older veela was also wondering how much longer she'd have to keep softening Harry and Nymmie up before they'd agree to start breeding those veela that wanted more children. It would benefit everyone, she felt.

There were only about four hundred or so veela in the whole world. Her grandmother's four daughters was a situation so rare it was nearly unheard of and had boosted her personal prestige greatly as a result. Most only managed one, two was considered fairly lucky. Having a reliable way to get pregnant on demand would be an incredible boon for their species.

And it would also benefit Harry and his family, the veela species as a whole could be placed in his debt.

It had taken Fleur quite some time and many lost bedroom dominance struggles to accept that Harry was the center of their group rather than her, but accept it she had. Now it was second nature to angle for an advantage in his favor, even if her species came out worse than they might have otherwise as a result.

Not that the matriarchs would have anything to complain about. The situation was still incredibly beneficial for the veela and her own grandmother, a matriarch herself even if she was the newest and youngest of them, agreed that being loyal to Harry in return would be no great hardship.

Luna would probably agree to start doing it right away if she was asked. Harry had for the moment put aside his project to help Luna develop a Metamorph talent, so a little Polyjuice would be required to give her the proper delivery system, a cock in other words, but it could certainly be done. The problem was that she didn't want to do that until Harry and Nymmie were sufficiently mellow to accept the idea.

Ah well, there was still plenty of time. Maybe after they had a few kids of their own?

"Are you done with your project yet, Harry?" Luna asked out of the blue.

"I am actually." Harry said with a grin. "I was just finishing it up yestererday."

"Can I see it?" Gabrielle asked excitedly, sounding exactly her age and causing more confusion for a certain metamorphmagus.

"Yes, this one isn't something that's going to stay secret for long." He nodded and stood up. "I'll be right back."

"What do you think he made this time?" Fleur asked curiously.

"No idea, but given how much work he's been putting in it'll probably be pretty amazing." Tonks replied.

Several minutes later, Harry came back and in his hands was a tall staff.

It was a deep, vivid red color, shaped to look like two entwined serpents. There was a transparent faceted crystal at the top, nestled between the heads of the two serpents, which were turned towards each other and bore a significant resemblance to Etal.

"Six feet and five inches of South American bloodwood, with a quetzalcoatl feather core, topped with a solar focusing crystal. I've named it the Spire of the Dark Sun." Harry declared with a proud grin, turning the staff this way and that. "What do you think?"

"There are so many jokes about size compensation and wizard's staves available that I don't even know which one to pick." Tonks mused.

"I know, it's really quite intolerable." Fleur agreed, contemplatively sipping tea.

"Really? That's it?" Harry deflated.

"It's nice?" Luna ventured.

"Ah, forget it." Harry grumbled.

Fleur and Tonks snickered at his disappointed expression. They knew he wanted to monologue about it. They might love the prat, but he did enjoy the sound of his own voice a bit too much sometimes.

"Why not just use a wand?" Gabrielle asked with a confused frown on her face.

Harry perked up at the question. "Because a modern wand is a precision instrument designed to be a shortcut to learning magic that later becomes a psychological crutch. Using my old wand would certainly allow me to cast faster, but it would also limit me too much to be worth it. A self-made magical focus is a superior tool for channeling magic, as well as being much more flexible and personally suited to its maker than a store-bought one."

"But why not just make yourself a wand?" Tonks asked. "It's a lot more convenient than a staff and nothing you've said so far makes a staff better."

"Mostly because it looks way cooler and for the solar focusing crystal." Harry replied, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sure you remember our adventure in Egypt?"

"Oh, you can do that now?" Fleur looked interested.

"I think so, though I'd have to try it to be sure." He nodded.

"Do what?" Gabrielle demanded. "And why did you name the staff anyway? Wands don't have names."

"Maybe I'll show you later. As for why I named it…I just thought it'd be cool." Harry admitted.

"Neeeeerd." Tonks snorted in laughter.

"Don't listen to Nymphadora, Harry." Luna said supportively. "It's very 'cool', I'm sure."

"Thanks, Luna. I could have almost believed that if it wasn't for the audible quotation marks."

"Could you make me a staff?" Fleur asked, daydreaming about firing Sun-powered laser beams around.

"Nope."

"Why not?" She demanded indignantly.

"There's a reason that there's no young wandmakers. It takes for-fucking-ever to learn how to make a magical focus that other people can use with any kind of efficiency. I can, however, teach you how to make your own. In fact, you'd all benefit from having foci of your own make."

"How long would it take?" Tonks was interested now.

Harry considered it. Without his advanced magic attunement…

"A few months maybe?" He hazarded. "I don't really know for sure."

"Would we be staying in your….special room?" Fleur asked.

"What special room?" Gabrielle asked.

Luna had been waiting for something like this to happen and scrambled her short-term memory.

"Stop doing that!" Fleur snapped.

"Harry, we really need to have a talk about Fleur's ability to keep secrets around family members." Luna said, ignoring the incensed veela.

"I can see that." Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

Fleur crossed her arms and looked away with a very snooty 'hmph'.

"What?" Gabrielle shook her head. "Did I miss something just now?"

"You zoned out for a little while." Luna explained serenely. "I call it the veela cum daze, it sometimes happens to veela that aren't used to Harry's penis."

Tonks snorted into her juice and went into a prolonged coughing fit. The absolutely calm and straight-faced way that Luna had just shoveled that ridiculous load of bullshit was simply too much.

XXXXX

 _August 24th, 2018. Ravenhead, Hyperbolic Time Chamber._

It hadn't even been a single real time day and Harry was already contemplating his next project. The staff was nice, excellent even, but he didn't think it would be enough. He had examined the fight against Voldemort in his Pensieve(another leisure project), both alone and with others, and had concluded that even with the benefit of a magical focus he'd still be at a disadvantage in a one on one fight.

A lot of that was pure combat experience of course. Not just sparring, but serious life and death battle. No amount of training could really teach you to fight the way that mortal combat could.

But that kind of thing carried the unfortunate risk of dying, which Harry wasn't keen on. As much of an adrenaline rush as it could be to fight to the death, Harry was still more of a thinker by nature than a fighter.

So he thought, and he considered how to skew the odds in his favor from a different angle than just 'git gud'.

As was often the case, he stole an idea from a fictional setting.

The problem was that he didn't know diddly squat about blacksmithing, metallurgy or metalworking in general, nor was it something that he could use his extreme magical aptitude to learn at a stupidly accelerated pace. And Tzeentch (probably) didn't exist either, so he _would_ need some serious blacksmithing skill to pull this idea off. Simple transfiguration and enchanting wouldn't do it, he'd already tried. No, the necessary spells needed to be weaved into the item during the actual forging process, so that magic and metal became one.

Well, fuck it then. He'd set up a forge in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber and he could find plenty of books and shit on blacksmithing. There was probably even a 'Blacksmithing for Dummies' book out there. He could also go out and ask actual blacksmiths for tips.

Lastly, and probably most importantly, he could use this temporally dilated room of ultimate cheating to pretend it was fucking Skyrim and he needed to forge one thousand iron daggers to level up his blacksmithing.

If the goddamn _goblins_ could do it, then so could he.

Harry pointedly ignored the minor quibble of goblins being racially inclined towards metalworking. It didn't matter, he was human and humans could advance to any level in any skill. Dungeons & Dragons said so.

XXXXX

 _August 27th, 2018._

" _Etal, have you come across any remote human villages in your exploration of Africa?_ " Harry asked.

" _Many, why do you ask?_ " The quetzalcoatl wondered.

" _There is something I need to try….._ "

XXXXX

 _Africa._

Harry didn't rightly have any idea which country this particular village was in, nor did he really care. What he cared about was that it was far from any magical or even mundane authority.

Controlled experimentation had been promising, now he needed to try it out 'in the wild', so to speak. This place was perfect for a small scale field test.

It was the dead of night and most everyone in the small village was asleep. Even if they weren't, they wouldn't have seen his disillusioned form as he stalked towards his target.

He hesitated only for a moment before unstoppering the flask in his hand and pouring the liquid magic into the village well. He saw the water begin to shimmer with magical potential as the raw magic bonded to it. It would be invisible to anyone without Magesight, although even fairly mediocre wizards and witches should be able to feel something from it.

The last thing he did was to hide a Palantír nearby so that he could monitor the situation from a distance.

" _What was that good for?_ " Etal asked as they were leaving.

" _I want more magic in this world._ " Harry hissed back. " _If my theory is correct, then this place will be just the beginning._ "

XXXXX

 _September 1st, 2018._

Harry stopped in his tracks as his communication mirror let off a particular sound associated with an emergency call.

"Madam Bones." He greeted as the face of the monocle-wearing witch appeared in the mirror.

"Potter." She bit off tersely. "There are Death Eaters attacking the Hogwarts Express."

Harry paused for a moment to consider that. The train should already be at Hogwarts at this time, or nearly so. If they were going to take prisoners, it would have made more sense to attack it en route.

"Most likely a diversion." He determined. "Voldemort will probably make a play for the Department of Mysteries with an elite group while everyone is distracted."

He had brought Bones in on the plan to bait Voldemort with the prophecy. She had not been happy.

"But not a diversion we can ignore, so get your arse over here and help fix this mess." She snapped and closed the connection.

"This had better not turn out to be a monthly thing." He grumbled and started calling the girls.

XXXXX

 **The plot hasn't progressed as far in this chapter as I intended it to, but what can you do? I'll try not to leave it on a cliffhanger for too long, but don't get too excited for another speedy update.**


	48. Chapter 48

**Many thanks go to Joe Lawyer and his excellent beta skills.**

XXXXX

 _September 1st, 2018._ _Spellhaven._

It took only a couple of minutes to gather the Raven Host, but it felt like a small eternity as was usually the case when you were in a hurry.

Harry was a bit worried about them. Two had already died in the battle last month and one was a newbie. They were well trained and had some combat experience now, but there were only eight of them and Jones hadn't had much time to work with them on tactics. Especially since the man was not yet completely acclimated to the realities of magical combat.

The concern he felt for the Raven Host actually surprised him, even mild as it was. It was hard for him to feel much of anything for people outside his immediate circle these days...not that he'd ever been good at it. But it did make _some_ sense, he supposed. Those who made it into the Raven Host were the more driven sort and that was something that Harry could respect, so he didn't want them to die. He resolved to offer them more advanced and less combat-oriented magical instruction once this mess with Voldemort was done with.

But that wasfor later. For now, they had to decide on a strategy.

"I agree that this is probably a diversion, but we can't just ignore an attack on a train full of children." Dora said firmly as they waited for the Raven Host to assemble.

Harry's fingers clenched around his staff and he bit down on the urge to say that they could, in fact, do exactly that. He knew that wouldn't go over well.

"Dumbledore will be there and Bones has been beefing up the Aurors for years. We can send the Raven Host to help them, but I want the four of us to focus on Voldemort." He said.

Dora bit her lip. "But what if they need more than that? We don't even know for sure if Voldemort will be going to the Ministry."

"I could go to Hogsmeade while you three go to the Ministry." Luna suggested with one of her uniquely dreamy expressions on her face.

"No." They all denied in unison.

There was an unspoken agreement between them that Luna was never to fight alone. She was extremely good with defensive magic of all kinds, but lacked the killer instinct to make a proper combatant. The only reason she was even taken into combat with them at all was because she refused to be left behind.

"But she does have a point." Fleur said thoughtfully. "Surely three of us would be enough to handle Voldemort?"

It probably would, but Harry still didn't want them to separate. It was an entirely emotional urge to keep his women safe that slipped right past the cold objectivity he could bring to bear on almost everything else. He had already nearly lost Dora a month ago and he didn't want to risk them again.

"I'll go to Hogsmeade then and you three go to the Ministry." The metamorph said firmly.

"No." Harry shot her down instantly.

"Damn it, Harry, we are _not_ just going to hope for the best and go after Voldemort to the exclusion of all else." She snapped.

"Then Fleur will go to Hogsmeade by herself." Harry said in defeat and hidden frustration, seeing clearly that if he protested any further that Dora would just ignore him and go anyway. She could be as stubborn as a mule.

"Me?" Fleur asked in surprise.

"Yes, why her?" Dora also asked with a confused frown. "Out of the three of us, I'm the most balanced."

 _Because Fleur is less likely to try any stupid heroics._ Harry thought in the privacy of his own mind.

"Because her spells are better suited for the outdoors." He said. It was even true.

"Alright..." Dora nodded slowly.

"If we're going to be fighting underground, then I won't need this." Luna suddenly declared, holding up a potions bottle with some strange beige, red and yellow stuff in it. "Here you go, Fleur. Just throw it at the ground somewhere near enemies."

"What is it?" Fleur asked curiously, inspecting the contents of the bottle.

"I call it Steve." Luna replied in all seriousness.

"But what _is_ it?"

"I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."

Fleur would have pressed her further and Harry would have admonished the petite blonde about the battlefield being no place for surprises, even friendly ones, but his mirror vibrated again.

"Madam Bones, hello again." He said as he answered the call.

"Potter, you were right." The witch said brusquely. "I've just received word of a Death Eater incursion at the Ministry, but I can't spare anyone to deal with it. The situation in Hogsmeade is bad and getting worse, but Voldemort isn't here. Hurry up!"

She cut the link without another word.

"Must be one hell of a distraction." Harry said thoughtfully and turned to Fleur. "I need you to promise me something."

"What?" She asked with a raised eyebrow and a cocky smirk.

"If things start getting too heated over there, you will use your emergency portkey and get out of there, no matter who or what you leave behind."

Her smirk faded at his serious look. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dora's face light up with indignant realisation.

"I promise." Fleur said.

Harry still wasn't happy that they would be separated, but that did make him feel a little better.

XXXXX

Harry, Tonks and Luna appeared in the Ministry Atrium with a pop of displaced air and quickly scanned the area for threats.

There were none to be had. In fact, the large room was completely deserted. That was unusual even if it was long past working hours for most people, but the clear signs of spell damage spoke of the reason clearly enough. Even the Fountain of Magical Brethren had been blasted to pieces. No real loss there, as the damn thing had been ugly beyond description, both in appearance and in symbolism.

"It goes towards the lifts." Tonks said quietly.

"I really wish the Ministry had the sense to build some stairs." Harry grumbled as they moved towards said lifts. You didn't have to be a tactical genius to know that they made for nearly perfect ambush locations. If it wasn't for their magic, he wouldn't set foot into them.

"There used to be stairs, but everyone was so enthused about not having to use them anymore that they just replaced them with the lifts altogether." Tonks provided.

"Figures." Harry scoffed.

Despite his misgivings about lifts, there was no ambush waiting for them when they reached the Department of Mysteries, not immediately out of the lift and not in the hub room that connected the various branches of research the Unspeakables were conducting.

Without a word, Harry turned to face the door they'd just exited and used the low level fire writing spell to inscribe a glowing circle of flame on it. The flaming circle on the pitch black door looked very much like the Darksign from Dark Souls, something that amused Harry a great deal and was the main reason why he'd used that particular shape.

"What was that for?" Tonks asked.

"Wait for it."

The room started spinning, slowly at first but quickly gaining speed until the candles of blue fire on the walls and Harry's own orange fire marking were just blurs.

"Only the Unspeakables know the spells to control this stupid room." Harry explained in a casual tone. "It was a pain to get out of here the first time."

"So we're going to have to start opening doors at random and hope to get the right one?" The metamorphmagus asked in exasperation.

"Afraid so."

"How did you not get caught blundering through here?" She muttered mostly to herself while moving towards the closest door.

"Oh, I'm sure the Unspeakables know that _someone_ was making unscheduled visits, but they're hardly going to admit to a breach in their security." Harry said airily, trying to open a door himself and frowning when it wouldn't budge. But he kept on talking. "Thing is, I've never actually _seen_ an Unspeakable when I came here. Since they can decide their own schedules, I suspect that they have rather short working hours."

"Typical." Tonks scoffed, trying the next door and scowling when it wouldn't budge either.

"I think all the doors are sealed." Luna said dreamily, lightly tapping her wand on the one in front of her. She hadn't been able to open any of them either.

"This is starting to feel like a trap." Harry observed, casually walking backwards towards the center of the room and motioning the girls to come with him.

That was when one of the doors opened and Draco fucking Malfoy stepped forward as if he was a total badass. It was all very dramatic, but would have had a lot more impact if they couldn't clearly sense that he was not, in fact, a badass.

"Good guess." The young Death Eater sneered.

" _You_ are here to spring a trap on _us_?" Harry asked incredulously, staring with disbelief at his old schoolyard...well, nuisance really. Draco had never amounted to much more than that. "I always knew you were stupid, but this is like...advanced stupid."

Draco's eyes burned with hatred, but he managed to restrain himself to a verbal reply.

"Stupid am I?" He sneered. "Then what does that make you and your sluts for walking into this trap?"

Tonks rolled her eyes and Luna gave a perplexed blink.

Harry looked skyward, as if imploring all the deities he didn't believe in for the patience to deal with this fool.

Finally, he sighed and turned back to Draco. "Firstly, there is no such thing as a slut. People like to fuck, some more than others, get over it. Secondly, it's truly sad how you think you could handle even one of us. It's pretty obvious that the noseless wonder needed a distraction and you were probably the only one dumb enough to volunteer for a suicide mission. Your mother would be so disappointed."

The mention of his mother had Draco shrieking with fury and raising his wand in a clearly hostile fashion.

A wave of spiritual force flared from Harry before he could get it halfway up, sending the Death Eater stumbling back into the wall behind him.

"Your hatred is strong, Draco." Harry said conversationally. "Strong enough to keep you on your feet at least, but hatred alone won't give you the power to challenge me."

Draco glared, his teeth grinding together audibly. He poured his hatred into a vicious curse with a swipe of his wand just like the Dark Lord had taught him to do.

Harry negligently moved his staff, easily deflecting it and then yanking the wand out of the young Death Eater's hands with a quick Disarming Hex.

"Now what, Draco?" He asked.

"Harry, stop playing with the idiot." Tonks interjected sharply. "If Voldemort isn't here then he's probably at Hogsmeade."

Draco couldn't take it anymore. Both his pride and his hatred demanded satisfaction. He had thought that he would be able to take Potter on with all the training he'd received from the Dark Lord and it was frustrating beyond words to see how vast the gulf between them was.

But he had a another card to play. In the moment that Harry turned his attention towards Tonks to accede to her words, Draco reached into his robes, pulled out a potions vial filled with a sickly yellow liquid and smashed it against the ground.

The sound of breaking glass caught everyone's attention and their eyes widened as the liquid quickly began evaporating into a sickly yellow mist.

"Fly up!" Harry yelled and the three of them rose upwards to escape the mist.

Draco began laughing manically, knowing that there was no escape for Potter and his bitches. Rookwood had taught him the spells to control this room and he had sealed all the doors so that they wouldn't open from this side. Draco had already taken the antidote to the poison he'd just unleashed, so he'd get to have the privilege of watching them die right in front of him.

His glee lasted about as long as it took him to realise that his eyes, skin and insides were beginning to burn with pain. That realisation was followed by another one. The 'antidote' he'd been given had not been an antidote.

"We can't reach the doors anymore." Luna observed with a calmness that was entirely inappropriate for the situation, especially with the Draco screaming in agony below them.

"Then we make our own door." Harry said, turning his staff towards the ceiling and firing off a powerful gouging curse. Sure, they had cloth facemasks enchanted to filter out airborne poisons and even allow underwater breathing, but that mist looked to be corrosive in nature.

The girls immediately grasped his meaning and set about helping him. Tonks pitched in with her own gouging curses to dig a hole and then with blasting ones to blow it apart, while Luna put up a shield to block the resulting sharpnel and falling debris.

The stone was thick, but not enchanted for durability. Apparently nobody had fathomed that someone might try to blast it apart one day. The real problem was the typical approach to architecture that wizards often took. Meaning that if something had to be adjusted, they often didn't bother with structural integrity if it was too much of a hassle. Why should they, when magic could hold it together just fine?

The spinning hub room of the Department of Mysteries might have been impressive and convenient for the Unspeakables, but structurally sound from the perspective of physics it was not. The ceiling may not move, but the walls did and that required a _lot_ of spellwork to function as intended. Quite a few of those spells were anchored to the ceiling and started unraveling after Harry and Tonks began blasting it apart.

All three of them felt a sensation akin to having one's ears pop due to a change in atmospheric pressure as those spells winked out of existence and then the damaged ceiling suddenly caved in, dumping a large part of the Ministry Atrium into the Department of Mysteries, sliding off Luna's shield spell.

"The Unspeakables are going to hate us forever." Tonks said wryly, looking at the devastation they'd left behind.

"The horror." Harry replied sarcastically.

"Are those aquavirious maggots?" Luna asked excitedly, pointing down at a large water tank of green tinted water with what looked like brains swimming inside them. She clearly recalled her father talking about aquavirious maggots in one of his articles.

"Nope, those are cognivores. Thought-eaters." Harry answered, a thoughtful look coming over his face as he realised what an opportunity this situation was.

Then he pointed his staff at them and obliterated the tank with a powerful blasting curse.

"What the fuck was that for?!" Tonks demanded.

"They were an abomination." Harry never thought he'd find a line of magical research that he couldn't abide, but the Unspeakables had somehow managed to find it. Creating baby mind flayers that could eat your thoughts and leave you a drooling imbecile was something he found genuinely abhorrent and this was coming from someone that didn't think dementors were all that bad. Sure, they could take your soul, but that was basically just another way to die. He'd wanted to destroy the cognivores since the first time he'd taken a stroll through the Department of Mysteries and rifled through whatever research notes they left lying around.

Their security was _really_ bad.

"You're one to talk." Tonks muttered. She knew very well what kind of weird shit he got up to in his own laboratories.

"At least I don't snatch homeless people off the street and crack their skulls open." Harry replied loftily.

"What?" Tonks asked, startled.

"Where'd you think they got the brains?" Harry asked back sardonically.

The metamorph's face grew thunderous as her opinion of the Ministry took another sharp dive. She didn't even think to doubt Harry's words. The Department of Mysteries predated the Ministry itself, although it hadn't been called that before, and was mostly independent as a result. The Unspeakables had basically free reign to do whatever they wanted as long as they were discrete and she'd already seen what too much freedom did to people. Hells, she'd experienced it herself.

Any further conversation was stymied as they all felt their magic ripple three times in rapid succession. All four of them had three bracelets on their left arm, one for each of their lovers, bound in blood willingly given. It was a commitment deeper than any wedding ring could ever be, but it also functioned as an unbreakable tracking device. More pertinently in this case, it also allowed the bearer to 'ping' the magic of those that the bracelets were bound to.

Three pings was an urgent call for help.

Much to their frustration, the Atrium Apparition point and most of the fireplaces had also collapsed down into the Department of Mysteries, forcing them to use the visitors lift to get out from under the wards.

While they waited impatiently for the lift to move, Harry was already chewing over what they'd learned here tonight.

Voldemort had known it was a trap. It had been a possibility of course. Harry certainly would have suspected a trap if the the roles were reversed, but he had figured that Voldemort would have been so paranoid about the prophecy that he'd get tunnel vision.

But that potion that Draco had used...brewing something that turned into a corrosive mist when exposed to air was some pretty high level shit. It would take a master of the art to keep such a thing stable in liquid form long enough to be put into a bottle and as far as he knew, Snape was the only Death Eater with the required skill.

Snape, who Dumbledore had far too much faith in and might have told about this trap even though there was no need for him to know.

Harry made a mental note to thoroughly investigate that possibility and put a knife in Snape's throat if it turned out to be true. The man might be an enemy of Voldemort in his heart, but he was ruled by his hatreds more than anything else. Just because he hated Voldemort the most for killing the object of his obsession, Harry's own mother, didn't mean that he was an ally. Harry knew that he'd earned himself Snape's hatred as well with his resemlance to James Potter and the way he'd walked all over the man's pride more than once.

His last thought before they apparated away was for Draco Malfoy, now dead by his own stupidity. Narcissa was going to be heartbroken, but Harry was at least glad that the problem had so conveniently solved itself.

XXXXX

 _Meanwhile..._

The portkey deposited Fleur and the Raven Host some ways off from Hogsmeade, but they could immediately see that there was a fierce battle going on. That was pretty clear with the friggin' giant industriously turning the village into rubble with its club and the dementors loitering around it, kept at bay only by a handful of Patroni.

"Alright, move in, but remember to be careful and use your portkeys if you get in over your head." Fleur instructed, getting affirmatives from the two team leaders.

Assured that they would be fine, Fleur took to the air and quickly surveyed the situation.

It was, as Madam Bones had said, bad. Hogsmeade was a war zone and panicked people were running every which way. There were at least three dozen Death Eaters trading spells with Aurors, some Hogsmeade residents, the odd student, teachers and what appeared to be Order of the Phoenix for control over the stationary Hogwarts Express. The Death Eaters also looked to have taken hostages from the train and they looked dangerously organised in their actions, far more than they were during the mess of a fight on Spellhaven a month ago.

Oh, and there were also trolls and acromantula spilling out of the Forbidden Forest in a flanking attack in addition to the lone giant and the dementors. All the creatures were keeping so many of the defenders busy that the otherwise outnumbered Death Eaters were having a relatively easy time of it.

Dumbledore was easily spotted in this mess, seeming to be a spot of control in the chaos, but he was being less than effective. Some of it was almost certainly due to the sheer number of problems he was facing, but Fleur had to conclude that Harry was absolutely right about the old wizard. As a dueler he may be formidable, but he didn't have the faintest idea about how to wage a war or even a battle. He was obviously still holding back for pity's sake! Against an enemy that was killing his people and taking his students prisoner!

And there had definitely been casualties already. Fleur could see quite a few bodies lying on the ground, only a few of them in black robes. The most distinctive was the massive form of that half-giant that Hogwarts employed as a groundskeeper, Hagrid if she remembered correctly. That made sense, he was the one that met the train when it came in, didn't he? He would have been the first in the line of fire and the powerful constitution granted to him by his heritage didn't make him invincible.

Fleur didn't need more than a couple of seconds to decide where to go. Her best spells were too destructive for a hostage situation and the Raven Host was smart enough to see the tactical advantage of hitting the Death Eaters from the back. She would take care of the giant, dementors, trolls and acromantula.

Of those four targets, only the dementors were any kind of threat to her. The other three were land-bound and she could fly. That was why she went after them first, in addition to the racial hatred veela had for creatures of Dark of course.

Her raven Patronus was strong and Harry had been teaching her how to channel the Light intrinsic to her nature, so it blazed golden rather than silver and the dementors fled from it long before it reached them.

Fleur grinned as the people below her cheered, their spirits lifted by the sight. She could almost feel the awe directed at her and her pride swelled in response. Veela almost universally loved positive attention, but it was usually for their looks and sex appeal. She was finding hero worship to be quite to her liking as well.

Riding high on her victory, she flew in front of the giant and conjured a hefty iron spike in the air next to her. Conjuration was not her best skill, but giants were too magic resistant for anything non-physical to be effective. A minor bit of Transfiguration added rows of serrated blades to the spike, all the better to shred flesh.

The giant was too having too much fun smashing stuff to really pay attention to her, so Fleur just waited for it to raise its club and expose its throat to her. As soon as it did, she hurled her conjured weapon at it with all the force she could muster.

A giant's skin was as tough as wood, but the throat was still a soft target and the iron spike sunk in deep.

The giant dropped its club with a pained gurgle and began stumbling around as it clawed at its throat, blood gouting from it like a fountain.

Fleur turned her attention towards the trolls next. The giant would bleed out all the faster if it succeeded in pulling the spike out.

On the way there, she remembered the bottle that Luna had given her and, overcome by curiosity since the moonbrained blonde had never gotten around to telling her what it was, she threw it towards the trolls.

The bottle shattered and the multicolored gunk within expanded rapidly. It grew over ten feet tall and had a roughly humanoid appearance of two arms and legs, although with no fingers or toes. The beige gunk looked dry and stretchy and seemed to form the main part of its body. The yellow had a more melted appearance, but was also stretchy and bubbled as if very hot. The red stuff also bubbled, but had the features of some kind of thick liquid rather than being melty and it also churned ominously.

The magical construct roared, which came out as a very loud, very wet gurgle.

"Is that..." Fleur trailed off for an incredulous moment. "...a pizza golem?"

One of the nearby trolls sniffed deeply and immediately made its way towards this new arrival, reaching out to touch it.

One should note that trolls are tremendously stupid and only rarely understood that things which smelled good might also be dangerous. They _did_ grasp the notion that bubbling liquids are usually hot, their resilience and ability to regenerate made them far less wary of danger even when they recognised it.

The troll roared in agony as its hand was covered in burning hot tomato sauce and cheese heated to several hundred degrees Celsius. It responded as intelligently as it could, which for a troll meant 'hit it until it dies'.

Now it had both hands covered in burning hot tomato sauce and cheese. And the clearly hostile actions had prompted the pizza golem to retaliate.

Fleur snapped out of her incredulity upon hearing the troll's screams of pain. She would be having words with Luna later about inappropriate use of the kitchen, but this was not the time.

"Uh...Steve!" She recalled the name of the construct, not sure if she should be relieved or creeped out when it turned its head in her direction. "Kill the trolls!"

Steve the Pizza Golem heard the order from one of those it was bound to obey and set about doing it. It smashed its fist into the screaming troll's face.

A troll may have a fearsome regeneration, but having its nasal cavity filled up with superheated pizza dough, tomato puree and dairy product was a bit much. It toppled like a log with its face horribly burned, eventually dying of asphyxiation. It drowned in pizza.

The delicious abomination stomped towards its next victim when the first one fell, roaring a gurgling challenge that said victim was smart enough to understand but too stupid to refuse.

Fleur was just about to turn her attention to the acromantula when something far more pressing demanded her attention...

XXXXX

Hanging disillusioned over the boughs of the Forbidden Forest, Voldemort watched Potter's veela devastate his menagerie of attack beasts and frowned.

He'd expected her to be at the Ministry with the others, thinking to trap him into an inescapable fight only to run afoul Draco's suicide attack. Lucius' boy was the only one who hated Potter enough to have the guts to get close to him. Not that Voldemort truly expected his greatest enemies to be dispacthed so easily, but it didn't hurt to try.

But she was here and his servants couldn't handle her. They really were useless without him.

Granted, they had executed their initial attack perfectly, killing that half-giant oaf and beginning to take the newly arrived Hogwarts students hostage. Some of the students fought back of course, but a few summary executions had cowed most of them.

Quite a significant number had already been portkeyed away into captivity before the Aurors and Dumbledore's people had arrived on the scene. Voldemort had been pleased to note that they stayed organised and continued taking prisoners even afterwards. They would be useful later, the purebloods as leverage and the others as amusements.

Things had honestly been going so well that he was contemplating simply continuing the fight until he had secured victory completely. With a little luck, he might very well be able to kill Dumbledore today and cripple the Ministry so completely that taking over would be simple in the aftermath.

Unfortunately, he had almost forgotten about Potter in his excitement and now that veela had turned the tide nearly single-handedly. If nothing else he had to give credit where credit was due, the half-breed wasn't shy about completely obliterating the opposition. Not to mention that strange golden Patronus and that utterly bizarre golem.

Well, it was time to put an end to that nonsense. Voldemort took careful aim at the veela, focused his will and hatred and fired a powerful Killing Curse at her.

The green beam of death rushed through the air, leaving behind the familiar sense of silent finality.

Much to Voldemort's irritation, the veela's senses were apparently more than keen enough to feel the spell coming at her, as she stiffened for an instant and then juked out of the way.

It never ceased to baffle him that Potter shared power and knowledge with his women so freely. It simply wasn't done! And they called Lord Voldemort insane.

XXXXX

Fleur calmed her racing heart after dodging the Killing Curse. They had all trained exhaustively to sense incoming spells and instinctively determine how dangerous they were. The Killing Curse had a very distinctive feel to it, a palpable sense of impending doom. Very easy to detect, but damned unnerving.

Seeing the ugly form of the Dark Lord flying towards her, she quickly used the bracelets on her left forearm to ping her lovers for help.

Voldemort stopped a short distance away from her and Fleur had to struggle to keep the disgust from showing on her face. Quite besides his pasty complexion and serpentine face, the man was ugly down to the soul. Even his magic, although more than powerful enough that it should have been interesting to a veela, felt twisted and vile. Harry's own aura was far from being sunshine and daisies, it could be overpowering, intimidating and cold, but Voldemort didn't even feel human, more like a warped creature of hatred and cruelty wearing a human suit. It made her fingers twitch with the desire to burn him.

Fleur hadn't forgotten her promise to Harry, that she would portkey out the moment things got too heated. Facing off against Voldemort alone certainly counted, but she held off for the moment. She knew that she couldn't win, but he had a well known propensity for running his mouth and would likely keep pontificating until her lovers arrived.

"Your power is impressive for a half-breed, veela." The Dark Lord said with a sneer.

"There is nothing 'half' about me, I am a trueborn veela." Fleur retorted with a scoff, nearly rolling her eyes at the hint of surprise his face showed at her words. Figures that Voldemort would be so narrow-minded that he couldn't understand why anyone would take pride in being non-human.

She continued with a sneer of her own. "And you have some nerve talking about half-breeds looking as you do. Hypocrite."

Voldemort's expression twisted in outrage.

"You dare?" He whispered, red eyes glaring at her with deadly intent.

Fleur _was_ a bit intimidated, but refused to let it show. She covered up any fear with derision.

"Why wouldn't I dare?" She mocked. "I am not one of the sheep that are afraid to even say your name, Tom Riddle."

Fleur tensed, prepared to defend herself and speak the activation word of her portkey. All her senses were focused on Voldemort's aura, watchful for the slightest ripple of a forming spell. She would not be caught off guard.

But the Dark Lord didn't attack just yet.

"Potter chose his women well, I see." He said, languidly moving his wand into an offensive position. "It will be a pleasure to kill you, for now you stand alone before Lord Voldemort."

 _Pretentious ass._ Fleur thought, but her lips curved into a smile at what she felt coming.

"No, not alone." She said, now grinning openly. "Never alone."

"I'm not a jealous man, but I don't want you chatting up any of my women without me being present, Riddle." Harry said and the familiar presence of her lovers washed over the area, bolstering her and dwarfing Voldemort's vile power.

"Harry Potter." Voldemort said, seeming a bit irritated as he lowered his wand and turned to face Harry. "I see you've acquired a staff. Do you think that will give you the power to face me?"

"It'll help." Harry replied blithely. "Now are you going to run, or are you going to fight and die?"

Voldemort's jaw visibly clenched. "My purpose here is done. Until we next meet, Harry Potter."

And he vanished in a portkey transport. On the ground, all the Death Eaters, even those that had been dead or unconscious did the same.

"Cunt." Harry grumbled.

"Come, let's go clean up." Fleur suggested, gesturing at the few remaining trolls and acromantula running around Hogsmeade.

XXXXX

Voldemort reappeared back in his secret hideout and roared in anger, throwing an unshaped blast of magic at the nearest wall.

He may have achieved his objective, but his inability to win against Potter and his women was infuriating. He needed to do something about this or they would just keep coming after him as a group and overwhelm him every time.

The problem was that none of his Death Eaters were powerful enough to match them.

Much as it went against his instincts, he was going to have to train up a few elites so that he could focus on Potter while they dealt with the women.

He was also worried about Bellatrix being captured. What if Potter found out what she'd hidden in the Lestrange vault?

But no, there was no way for Potter to know that he'd made Horcruxes. If Dumbledore had learned of them, Voldemort could believe that he'd keep quiet about it, but Potter? That one was different, he'd tear the British Isles apart looking for them.

XXXXX

With the Death Eaters having bugged out, the fight was over quickly. Once that was done, they four of them dispersed. Tonks went to talk to Amelia Bones, Fleur wanted to check up on the Raven Host and Luna had a pizza golem to dismiss.

Harry went after Snape like a guided missile, noticing that the greasy-haired professor was already skulking back towards Hogwarts.

He flew over Snape's head and landed on the road in front of him, blocking the way.

"Potter." Snape sneered. "Get out of my way."

Harry drew Blackrazor and smiled. "Not until you answer my questions."

Snape balked at the obvious killing intent in the expression.

"What questions?" He asked warily.

"Did you recently brew a potion that turns into a yellowish corrosive mist when exposed to air?"

"Yes." He said warily.

Truth. "Did you know it was going to be used on us?"

"No."

Truth. "Hmm. Did Dumbledore tell you about my plan to trap Voldemort into a fight in the Ministry?"

"Yes..."

Truth. "Did you tell Voldemort about it?"

"No."

And there was the lie. Harry smiled and said nothing, simply driving Blackrazor into Snape's gut.

The perpetually dour man looked shocked for a moment before the agony of the cursed dagger registered.

Harry watched without pity as the man writhed on the ground and screamed. The bastard had ruined one of the better opportunities to cripple Voldemort at least temporarily with his stupid grudges.

An exclamation of horror made him look up, seeing Dumbledore rushing over with a clearly distressed expression on his face. Amelia Bones was right behind him, looking at lot less upset but not exactly happy.

"Harry, what have you done?" He cried.

"Plugged a leak." Harry answered blandly, wiping Blackrazor on Snape's robes. The man was already dead. "He warned Voldemort about my trap."

"Severus wouldn't do that." Dumbledore protested.

"He did. Why the fuck did you even tell him about it in the first place?" Harry demanded before another protest could be made on the dead man's behalf. "You're usually so stingy with information, but you'll confide in the shadiest person you know? What the actual fuck, Dumbledore? If I didn't know better I'd say you _wanted_ Voldemort to know about my trap."

"Harry, how could you think that of me?" Dumbledore asked in shock.

"Answer the implied question, old man. Did you Tell Snape about the plan in the hopes that he'd leak it to the enemy?" Harry was perfectly ready to stab Dumbledore as well if the answer was yes.

"No, of course not!"

Truth. Harry was almost disappointed. "Hmph, fine."

The hitherto silent Amelia Bones decided to speak up.

"Interesting weapon you've got there." She said, eyeballing Blackrazor.

"Thanks." He dodged the implied question. He was sorely tempted to tell her how he got it just to see the horror on Dumbledore's face, but bragging about murder was usually a bad idea even if the law couldn't touch you. "So, Voldemort took a bunch of incoming Hogwarts students prisoner. Any word on how many?"

"We don't have a solid number yet, but there could be as many as a hundred." Bones said with her lips drawn into a thin, angry line. "They were taking them pretty indiscriminately from what I saw."

"He's going to be able to pressure the Ministry now that he has hostages, which I suppose was the point." Harry sighed.

But this was unusually bold for Voldemort. While the Dark Lord certainly had no qualms about doing whatever was necessary to achieve his goals, he hadn't been quite this aggressive in his methods before. He'd almost say that it felt impatient.

"Can you do anything to find them?" She asked hopefully.

"Possibly, but I'll need willingly given blood from their parents." The Kinfinder had failed before, notably in the cases when he had used the blood of the Death Eaters rapespawn to cast it and when Narcissa had given her blood to find Draco. The first case had always been iffy and he suspected that Narcissa had not actually wanted him to find Draco out of fear for her son's life. That would have messed with the spell.

But blood given by parents desperate to have their children returned? That was something else entirely. Voldemort would be hard pressed to put up an anti-scrying ward powerful enough to block that.

How wonderfully poetic that the Dark Lord would plant the seeds of his own destruction now as he had that long ago day in Godric's Hollow.

Bones inhaled sharply and gave him a hard stare, but to her credit didn't say anything about Blood Magic being illegal.

"They won't like that." She warned instead.

"They'll like what the Death Eaters will do to their kids even less." Harry countered blandly.

Her facial expression became pinched and she nodded sharply. "Fine, as long as you agree to destroy the blood after the children are retrieved."

"Sure." Harry had little interest in Britain and the people who lived here, magical or otherwise.

"Dumbledore." Harry said, snapping his fingers at the obviously grieving old man. Grieving for Severus Snape of all people, the senile twit.

"What?" Dumbledore asked with unusual hostility.

"I need you to contact any parents of those that were taken who live in the mundane world, even the non-magical ones, and get them over here."

Dumbledore simply stared at him for a long few seconds before speaking. "Despite everything, I thought you were better than this, Harry. You have gone down a dark path."

Harry snorted in response. "Are you still whining about Snape?"

"He was a good man."

"You seriously need to stop living in the fucking clouds. Snape was a petulant, bitter, resentful manchild. A good chunk of your students have been kidnapped because of his grudges and here you are, trying to convince me that he was a good man. Are you going to tell that to their families as well, maybe right after informing them about the rape and torture Death Eaters are so fond of? Or after admitting that you didn't fight to protect them as hard as you could have? I'd say that's 'darker' than anything I did here today."

Dumbledore looked like he didn't know what to say. Harry had noticed a trend that the old man didn't really know how to respond to harsh criticism. He probably didn't get enough of it.

"Just go already." Harry sighed, suddenly feeling tired of dealing with the old man. "Contact the parents and get them here."

"Harsh." Bones said neutrally as Dumbledore walked away, although a hint of approval leaked through.

"Dumbledore is old and has barely left Hogwarts since he defeated Grindelwald. Sometimes it feels like he has trouble distinguishing the real world from the schoolyard." Harry scowled irritably. It made the old man as much of a hindrance as he was a help sometimes.

"That...would explain a lot." Bones agreed thoughtfully.

XXXXX

Luna watched sadly as a female Auror tried to gently coax a weeping Dennis Creevey away from the body of his brother.

She remembered Colin Creevey. An excitable boy with a bad case of hero worship for Harry. He'd wanted to be a hero too and now he was dead.

 _Bravery without ability has a lot in common with stupidity._ One of Harry's little sayings. Nymphadora frequently accused him being too young to be philosophical and that he'd get old if he didn't knock it off.

"Luna?"

She turned towards the hesitant voice and saw a familiar face.

"Hello, Ginny." Luna said serenely. "I'm glad to see that you weren't killed or captured."

"Yeah..." Ginny replied glumly and stared at the battlefield forlornly.

A silence stretched between them, giving Luna time to think about her old friend. They had exchanged letters for a while after she'd left Hogwarts with Harry, but that had eventually petered out. They just didn't have much in common anymore.

If Luna had stayed in Hogwarts, this would have been her seventh year. She would have been sharing meals and classes with Ginny and doing homework with her. She might even have snuck into her bed for a cuddle sometimes.

Instead she was one of the most powerful witches in the world, in a four-way relationship with two other witches of similar strength and the wizard who had lifted them up so high. Together they worked on the best way to kill a Dark Lord so that they could turn their focus back to their personal lives on their private little island kingdom.

Luna took another look at Ginny and could almost see the distance between them. They might be the same age and standing on the same ground, but they lived in different worlds.

"What?" Ginny asked and Luna sadly noted how defensive she sounded.

Ginny didn't even realise it, but she was already subconsciously shrinking away from a power much greater than her. It was always this way with wizards and witches, the weak either followed the strong or shied away from them fearfully. Some might fight their instincts, but deep down they all instinctively knew where they stood in the pecking order.

That was Luna's main reason for working so hard under Harry's teaching. She didn't care about being powerful, but she didn't want to be left behind. Without her and Fleur and Nymphadora, Harry would stand alone on top of the world, grasping for more and more power to fill the emptiness of his life and growing ever more distant from people as a result. She would have to talk to Fleur and Nymphadora later about getting Harry to calm down a bit, once there was no more Dark Lord to worry about.

"They made you Head Girl." Luna said airily instead of explaining her thoughts, nodding at the badge on her robes. Ginny wouldn't understand anyway. She was too weak to see. "Congratulations."

"Yeah, Mum was so proud." Ginny replied tremulously, sounding as if she was about to cry. "And Ron was so jealous when he didn't get the Head Boy badge, he barely spoke to me for the rest of the summer."

"Ronald was always petty." Luna said, recalling what little she knew of him. Pettiness and jealousy had defined Ronald Weasley as a young boy. Apparently he hadn't grown up much. Why would he think they would make him Head Boy when he was so lazy about his studies that he had to repeat a year?

"He's been taken to St. Mungo's, the Death Eaters hurt him really bad." Ginny's voice broke. "I overheard the Aurors talking, they didn't think he'd make it."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Luna said in the same serene tone she'd been using the whole time. She really was sorry to hear it, but it didn't affect her personally.

Ginny burst into tears and threw her arms around her, sobbing into the crook of her neck.

Luna returned the hug readily. Ginny was only a couple of inches taller than her, so it was easy to do.

Since there nothing she could really say to make it better, Luna stayed quiet and rubbed Ginny's back while she cried. She did give her a magic hug though. Not a full Joining – that would be impossible anyway since they weren't having sex – but just a little something to soothe the pain in Ginny's soul, just like Harry had done for her after she had lost her father.

It worked too, because Ginny soon settled down into hiccups.

"Sorry for crying all over you." The redhead said, wiping her face with her sleeve.

"It's alright, basilisk hide is waterproof."

Ginna choked out a little laugh and then looked at her with eyes that were hard despite their watery sheen.

"You're going after them, right?" She near-demanded.

"The Death Eaters?" Luna asked, continuing at Ginny's nod. "Yes, Harry is quite determined to get them all."

"I want to help." The redhead said, her voice beginning to crack again. "I...I never want to be so helpless again. The Head Boy and Head Girl are supposed to take care of the other students, but all I could do was run."

Luna cocked her head to the side quizzically.

"How would you help?" She asked bluntly.

Ginny seemed taken aback by the question for some reason that Luna didn't understand.

"Well...I get pretty good marks at Defense Against the Darks Arts, second highest in my year." She said with a little pride, but mostly uncertainty.

Luna blinked slowly and furrowed her brow, trying to figure out Ginny's logic. What did marks in class have to do with anything?

Sometimes it really felt as if she was the only person in the world that made any sense.

"You should talk to Harry and Nymphadora." Luna finally said, deciding to pass this problem on to them because she couldn't figure it out. "Come on, I'll take you to them."

XXXXX

Ginny followed behind her old friend and tried to squelch her nervousness. She hadn't honestly thought this plan through very well, or at all really. She just knew that she didn't want today to ever happen again

Ron may have been her least favorite brother, sometimes usurped from that position by Percy, but he was still family and now he might very well die and she didn't even know why. They had been on different parts of the train and Ginny knew that it was pure luck on her part that the Death Eaters hadn't struck the part where she'd been at the time. She had been able to climb out a window and make a run for it along with the students near her. They had still needed to briefly exchange spells with several Death Eaters as they ran and not all of them had gotten away.

Ron had either not been so lucky, or had been stupid enough to try fighting them head on instead of retreating. She didn't want to think poorly of him now, but she had to admit that Ron might have thought that just because he was in the Order of the Phoenix that he'd be able to fight off Death Eaters.

Ginny had wanted to join the Order when she turned seventeen as well, but her mother had forbidden it. She suspected it was because she was a girl, something that had infuriated her at the time.

Ron had been insufferable about it, rubbing his own membership in the Order in her face every time he got the chance, the insecure little prat. She could easily imagine him taking this attack as his chance to be a hero. His common sense had always been slow in coming, but this time the consequences were a lot worse than just looking like a stupid arse.

Well _fine_. If the Order wouldn't take her, then maybe Harry would. He and his people seemed to be more effective anyway.

So she followed her old friend to where he was standing and talking with that metamorphmagus girlfriend of his. He was idly turning his deep red staff this way and that as they spoke.

The staff, Ginny had no idea what was up with that. It looked impressive, but its serpent motif wasn't going to do him any favors in Britain. Harry probably didn't care though, he'd barely cared about other people's opinions when she'd first met him and had become downright belligerent at any suggestion that he do or not do something for the sake of someone's opinion by the time he'd left Hogwarts.

The memory of how she'd tried to get him to throw away that naughty picture a seventh year girl had sent him or how she'd objected to him sleeping with Bryanna and Tiana stood out in particular. He had allowed their friendship to fall apart rather than give in.

Not that Ginny considered herself to be blameless or in the right there. With the benefit of hindsight, she could see that she'd been poking her nose into things that were none of her business and that she'd been too used to her parents settling disputes with her brothers in her favor. With a mother as pushy and opinionated as Molly Weasley and so many siblings there was little privacy to be had in the Burrow and they had all learned to live with it, but Harry was an orphan with no siblings and very private besides. He had resented her invasiness and presumption. Her crush on him, the resulting jealousy when he showed interest in other girls and her discomfort at how eager he had been to jump straight to sex hadn't helped either.

"Hello, Harry. Hello, Nymphadora." Luna greeted cheerfully when they arrived.

"Luna." Tonks said with a small smile. Charlie had told her that they'd dated for a while in their seventh year and that she hated being called by her first name, even by him. Apparently Luna could do it without getting reprimanded.

"Ginny." Harry said neutrally.

"Hi, Harry." Ginny responded nervously, almost trembling with the effort it took to not look away from the scarred face and the unnaturaly intense green eyes. He was so different from when she last spoke to him. It was like trying to keep eye contact with a dragon.

"Ginny wants to help us fight Voldemort." Luna chirped, thankfully interrupting the moment.

"Why?" Harry asked simply, still staring at her.

The words got stuck in her throat, this time due to the renewed rush of grief and anger rather than his overwhelming presence.

"Ron...he...he's been badly hurt. He might not make it." She managed to get out, trying to keep herself from bursting into tears again.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Tonks said sympathetically.

Harry notably did _not_ offer his sympathies. Ginny was sharply reminded of his sneering disdain for that social nicety and how he sometimes wielded the deaths of his parents like a weapon to kill a conversation.

"That wasn't what I asked." He stated implacably.

"Because I was useless!" She snapped, hating the way her voice broke. "I thought...I thought I was pretty good, but when it came down to it, I was so terrified that all I could do was run and hope they wouldn't get me."

"Well, there are worse motivations out there." Harry mused and pinned her with another stare. "But do you have it in you to kill? I'll tell you right now that the Raven Host is not like the Order of the Phoenix or the Auror Corps. You'd have to drop out of Hogwarts and move to Spellhaven, and learning how to kill without flinching is a requirement."

Ginny swallowed thickly. She hadn't thought that far.

"I don't know." She admitted meekly. Fighting was one thing, but killing...

"Why don't you take a some time to calm down and think about it." Tonks interjected. "If you still want to join the Raven Host there will be a place waiting for you, but don't rush into things without thinking...hey, is that your mother coming over here?"

Ginny resisted the urge to groan. She'd just barely been able to get away from her mother's smothering earlier.

"GINNY!" The strident tones of Molly Weasley's voice rang for all to hear.

"Thar she blows." Harry muttered with a quiet snort, much to her confusion. She figured it was some kind of insult given the exasperated glare Tonks gave him.

Ginny turned around and there her mother was, quickly waddling towards them at a fast walk and looking half-panicked, as if another attack was going to happen at any time. The rest of the family was somewhat further behind her, obviously either not feeling any need to rush or wanting to be out of the immediate blast zone.

"Ginny, you said you were just going to talk to Luna." Her mother said as soon as she was close enough. The scolding tone came through loud and clear, as did the suspicious look she shot towards Harry.

"I did, and then we came to talk to Harry and Tonks." Ginny said.

"About what?" The suspicious increased.

"Nothing important." The last thing she wanted right now was to put up with her mother's hysterics and overprotectiveness.

Of course, that just made the Weasley matriarch even more suspicious. "Then you won't mind telling me about it."

Ginny struggled to keep the glare off her face. She loved her mother, she really did, but the woman just didn't want to see that her children had grown up. Even Bill sometimes still got treated as if he was no older than thirteen.

"Harry, did Mrs. Weasley just miss the subtext?" Luna asked innocently. "Didn't you say that when people said they weren't talking about anything important what they really mean is it was none of the other person's business?"

"She didn't miss the subtext so much as ignored it because she's completely unable to keep from sticking her nose where it isn't wanted." Harry explained blandly.

While that was undoubtedly true, it wasn't something that anyone really had the courage to say in the Weasley household. Ginny glanced over at her mother and noted that the infamous Prewett temper was already close to boiling over.

Mum finally couldn't keep it in anymore and exploded into yelling. "How dare-!"

" _Shh_." Harry's voice carried far more force than a mere shush should, but the results were undeniable. Molly Weasley's mouth moved, but no sound came out.

"Harrykins, did you just..."

"...shush our mother?" Fred and George asked, dumbfounded.

"Screaming people annoy me." Harry said simply.

Percy began to bluster. "Potter, you can't just-"

" _Shh_."

Ginny had to contain a laugh and saw that she wasn't the only one that found the situation amusing. Their father started trying to cancel Harry's silencing spell, but wasn't having much luck, while Bill, Charlie and the twins were hiding smiles.

Mum and Percy meanwhile looked like they were about to blow without the ability to vent their anger verbally.

At first she was almost surprised that they didn't try to attack Harry either with their wands or their fists, but upon second thought maybe not that surprised. The aura of power around Harry hadn't abated even a little bit and it promised painful consequences for any attack.

"Hello, lovers!" A French accented voice called gaily from the sky.

Ginny was startled to see Harry's veela girlfriend fly in like a bird and land nearby. She'd heard of and even seen these four flying without a broom, but it was still a bit surreal.

"You're looking cheerful." Tonks said suspiciously. "Fleur, what did you do?"

"Nothing." Fleur responded with such innocence that it put the twins to shame. Then the beautiful veela turned her attention to the Weasleys. "And what's going on here? Is Harry picking up a redheaded mistress to round out his collection? If that's the case then we should take the older two boys for ourselves, Nymmie."

Ginny sputtered in shock and she vaguely noticed that her brothers were all similarly taken aback by the forwardness. Her mother looked scandalised and outraged.

A look at Harry revealed that the extent of his reaction to this was an exasperated eyeroll. Obviously this wasn't anything new to him.

"You can have them both if you want." Tonks sounded as exasperated as Harry looked. "I already tried dating Charlie back in my seventh year, but he likes his girls to have scales and fire breath."

"I'd resent that if it wasn't true." Charlie said in good humor. "Hey, Tonks. I didn't get the chance to say it earlier, but it's good to see you again."

"You too, Charlie." Tonks said with a wry smile. "And don't mind Fleur. She's a semi-decent person when she's not thinking with her cunt."

"This is the thanks I get for trying to help you." Fleur sniffed disdainfully. "Luna is one thing, but I don't believe for a second-"

"Just drop it, will you?" Tonks groaned, interrupting the veela's tirade. Clearly this wasn't new either.

"This isn't over." Fleur promised ominously. "One day, you are going to end up fucking some pliable little boytoy because you're fed up with Harry always taking control and I'm going to be there to tell you that I told you so."

Ginny could only stare. What kind of messed up relationship did the four of them have?

"If we're quite finished sharing the dynamics of our sex life with all and sundry, we should probably be getting into the Great Hall soon." Harry's voice was as dry as a desert.

"Do you think the Hogwarts house elves would make me some pudding if I asked nicely?" Luna asked excitedly.

"I'm sure they'd be delighted." Harry replied wryly.

The two of them had already turned their backs on the Weasley clan and started walking away without so much as a goodbye. Ginny couldn't help but notice the understated arrogance of it. Harry's words and actions carried an unmissable expectation of obedience.

"Byeeeee~." Fleur said in a sing-song voice, complete with finger wiggle and flirtatious wink at Bill and Charlie. Then she flounced off after Harry and Luna, laughing all the way.

Ginny tried really hard not to be judgemental, but she couldn't help thinking that the veela was a shameless slag. What Harry saw in her was anyone's guess. Luna would probably say it was because she had nice boobies or something.

Tonks rolled her eyes at the veela's antics, but it was her father that spoke.

"Umm, excuse me?" He said nervously. "Could you please remove these silencing spells?"

"They'll wear off in a few hours." Tonks said dismissively and turned to Ginny. "Think about it and get back to us when you've made a decision, alright?"

"Right." Ginny nodded. She'd talk to Bill. He was her favorite brother for a reason and was sure to have good advice.

"It was nice seeing you again, Charlie. Take care of yourself." The metamorphmagus said.

"You too, Tonks."

"Interesting bunch." Bill commented bemusedly once it was just Weasleys, but Ginny thought she could hear a hint of wistfulness in it.

Apparently so did Charlie. "Your head's stuck on the veela, isn't it? You always were a sucker for pretty blondes and they don't get any prettier than that."

"Shut up, little brother." Bill grumbled.

Ginny pictured Bill and Fleur together and grimaced. Having that floozy for a sister-in-law...She shuddered at the thought.

XXXXX

 _Hogwarts, Great Hall._

It took a while to find which students were taken and then collect their parents, but they were all here now.

Harry and the girls stood on the raised dais in front of the head table, looking over at everyone. Amelia Bones was also up there with them with them, but Dumbledore was notably absent. He had the unenviable duty of breaking the news to those whose children had been killed and dealing with Fudge's hysterics.

The Aurors had just finished herding the mob of unruly parents into the Great Hall, but it was clear that quite a few of them were on the edge of starting a riot. Questions like 'What's going on?', 'where are our children?' and most annoyingly and irrelevantly, 'what are the muggles doing here?' were asked.

Harry slammed the butt of his staff into the ground, releasing a pulse of power that rushed through the room in a palpable wave, causing hair to stand on end and gooseflesh to form.

"Sit down and shut up." He said after he had everyone's attention.

The non-magical parents didn't really have any idea who he was, but they were so far out of their comfort zone that they obeyed easily enough. The magical ones were even quicker about it, fearful of getting singled out.

"As some of you may have already heard, Voldemort-" Harry had to fight down a scowl as nearly every magical in the room gasped, flinched, shrieked or otherwise made some fearful reaction.

He tried to continue. "Voldemort-"

There was no holding back the scowl this time as they did it again. "Will you useless bunch of cowardly cunts stop fucking flinching over a _stupid made up name!_ " He roared at them in frustration.

Everyone, including the Aurors standing guard against the walls, shrank away. Several women and at least one man burst into tears.

Bones gave him an askance look, but he ignored her. She was just here to give the plan Ministry approval.

"Easy there, Harry." Tonks soothed. "Let's just do what we came for and leave, yeah?"

Harry's nostrils flared as he exhaled an irritably. He'd forgotten how goddamn annoying British wizards and witches could be with that dumb reaction.

Fleur muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'English! Hmph!' and Luna looked as imperturbable as ever.

"Right, as I was saying. _Voldemort..._ " He waited for a moment, raking the room with a harsh glare that kept the typical reaction down to a barely audible whimper. "and his Death Eaters attacked Hogsmeade Station just as the Hogwarts express pulled in. Their goal appears to have been the kidnapping of as many students as possible. Those of you here are the parents of the students that have been identified as missing."

That predictably set the crowd off, all of them displaying their fear in as loud a manner as possible as if that was going to somehow help.

" _Shh._ " Harry hushed and a veil of silence blanketed the room.

"There is still a chance that we might get them back." He continued now that they had no choice but to listen. "I can cast a spell called the Kinfinder to track down close blood relations. All I need from each of you is a little blood, willingly given."

The magicals looked outraged and were clearly trying to yell, but the silence still held.

"For those of you who don't know, willingly giving blood to a master of what some term the 'Dark Arts' such as myself is generally a _terrible_ idea. With it, powerful, unbreakable curses can be cast on your bloodline that will persist until it goes extinct or a geas may be placed on the donor that will make him or her beholden to the will of the caster or any of a dozen other unpleasant things can be done with willingly given blood."

He paused again to let that sink in, taking note of the stubborn, angry, fearful and resolved faces in the crowd.

"You'll be pleased to know that I'm not interested in doing any of that. Frankly, I don't give a fuck about any of you and have no reason to be casting curses on you or binding you to my will. I need the blood to find your children and hunt down Voldie and his minions, nothing else. For those of you willing to take my word on that, form orderly lines in front of me and my girls. Blades and vials will be provided and the blood will of course be destroyed afterwards."

There was a moment of silence even though Harry had cancelled the spell, then a young witch of about eighteen years stood up. Harry vaguely recognised her as Daphne Greengrass, a former yearmate that he'd never exchanged a single word with. He figured she was here because her younger sister was one of those captured.

"Lord Potter, do we have your assurances that our loved ones will be returned to us if we do this?" She asked formally.

"No, you don't." He replied blandly. "We will do our best, but Death Eaters aren't known for their humane treatment of prisoners."

Not the most diplomatic thing to say, but it was the truth. The palpable sense of fear that spread through the crowd would also motivate people to get moving already.

That was more than enough to get the non-magical parents moving towards the head tables. They didn't have the same stigma against Blood Magic that most magicals grew up with and they were terrified for their children. The magical parents followed suit, albeit with a great deal more trepidation.

XXXXX

It was well past dark when they returned to Spellhaven, bounty of blood vials in tow.

Harry estimated that it would take them most of the next day to cast the spells and track down the taken Hogwarts students, but he had one last unpleasant duty to perform today before he could get some sleep.

He found Narcissa in her room, still awake and pacing restlessly. She always stayed awake when there was fighting against Voldemort, worrying that this would be the day she learned that her son was dead.

"Harry." Narcissa greeted without formaility, her voice wavering between a question and fearful realisation.

"Cissy." He said back, stepping forward to take her hand and sit down on the bed with her.

"My son?" There were already tears in her eyes as she asked.

With no way to sugarcoat it, Harry explained everything that had happened.

Narcissa kept her composure rather well, all things considered. She was furious at Snape, both for brewing the potion that Draco killed himself with and for leaking information to Voldemort that led to the situation, and vindictively pleased when she learned that he'd killed him.

She only broke down into tears once he was finished talking.

Harry held her while she sobbed on him, feeling vastly uncomfortable but also knowing that she was his responsibility. He had made her his, so now he had to take care of her.

The things he had done to Narcissa weren't questionable – they were outright subversive, deeply manipulative and entirely unethical. Harry might not be terribly bothered with the moral implications, but he was well aware of them.

Now if only he knew what to do aside from holding her and wrapping his magic around her like a comforting cocoon.

"Would you stay with me tonight?" She asked softly some time later.

"Of course." He agreed easily. It was the least he could do.

XXXXX

 _September 2rd. Spellhaven._

"You'll have to hit them all at once." David Jones said, looking over at the map with targets marked. "If word gets out that one of them is being attacked they'll run and if they figure out they're being tracked through the prisoners they'll kill them for certain."

As expected, it had taken nearly most of the day to cast all the Kinfinder spells and the rest of it to scout the revealed locations of the kidnapped students, not least of which because they were fairly widely dispersed across Europe.

"We don't have the manpower and the last time we relied on local Aurors, Voldemort got tipped off by someone." Harry scowled.

"I know that _politics_ " Tonks spat out the word like it was something foul. "might be a problem, but we could just use British Aurors. Strange as it sounds, they're the least likely to have a mole and you can do your lie detector thing on them before we go. Either way we can't let anything go wrong this time."

"I suppose we can either soothe ruffled feathers later or shame any whiners into silence." Harry admitted with a frown. He tapped at a particular spot on the map. "This is probably their primary base, Albania. That at least works in our favor since it's basically no man's land from a magical perspective."

"How can you be sure?" Jones asked.

"Voldemort hid there in the past and that's where the majority of the prisoners are, especially the politically valuable ones. I'm guessing they're still sorting them out and handing out the less valuable ones as prizes."

The metamorphmagus present became a fiery redhead with magma-orange eyes, a look that went well with her angry expression.

That expression was the reason that Harry didn't voice the thought that they could wait a bit until the Death Eaters finished distributing their prisoners and inadvertently revealed their hidey holes.

"So the four of us are going there?" Fleur asked.

Harry gnawed on his lip in thought. "I think that I might have to go alone if we want to save anyone." He concluded with a sigh.

"How do you figure?" Tonks asked, anger abating a bit.

"Because Voldie always retreats when he's overwhelmed." Harry replied.

"And he's very angry about it." Luna added dreamily, staring at an empty bit of wall. "He might decide to kill the prisoners out of spite."

"Yeah." Harry nodded with another sigh. "If I'm alone he'll mouth off like he always does. If all four of us show up he might just decide to Fiendfyre the building before flying away, even if it kills some of his own minions."

"But you can't take him on alone, not yet." It was more of a statement than a question.

"No, but I can definitely stall him for a good long while. I'll have an emergency portkey and Etal with me. Plus, I do need to get some serious combat practice in with this staff." He said, running a hand along the twisting length of bloodwood. "With a little luck, I might even be able to take a shot at Nagini while I'm there."

There was a few seconds of thought before the girls grudgingly agreed with him.

"Luna and I could take this one in France then." Fleur spoke up, tapping her finger on the map.

"Upset that there are Death Eaters on your home patch?" Harry asked jokingly.

"Yes." Fleur sniffed.

"I'll go to Norway." Tonks stated firmly. "It's awfully close to Durmstrang, so maybe we'll finally get some solid proof that Karkaroff is using the school to recruit for Voldemort."

"I'd feel better about this if we could run a few training drills and simulations." Jones said unhappily. "This all feels rushed."

"We're not leaving those kids in Death Eater hands a second longer than necessary." Tonks was immovable on that.

Harry didn't object. He could see the benefits of more preparation, but he knew that Dora wasn't going to budge on this and it wasn't worth the rift it would cause. It should be fine and his own part in it should be the only really dangerous one. There was more 'should' inherent in the plan that he'd like, but it was what it was.

Still, this attitude of hers could be a problem. Harry knew that his own sense of morality was murky at best and he had no issue with letting the girls put the brakes on things if his ideas went too far off the rails, but he'd have to put his foot down if Dora got any more willful. Not because he didn't like her fire, but because she was basically forcing him to change his decisions to appease her and prevent her from going off on her own.

"I'll talk to Bones and tell her to get her people ready for action at dawn." He said, keeping his thoughts off his face.

XXXXX

 _September 3rd. Somewhere in Albania._

Harry observed the isolated villa thoughtfully. He wasn't sure if it was a magical home that Voldemort had taken over or not. The magical world's oversight of the Balkans was shoddy to say the least.

"Are you sure he's in there?" Senior Auror Robards asked quietly.

"Yes." Harry replied simply.

"Right, let's get to it then." Robards said with a gusty exhale that carried a hint of nervousness. His wand was clenched tighly in his fist.

"Relax, Auror." Harry advised mildly. "You should be fine as long as you stay away from me and Voldemort."

The experienced Auror gave him a disgruntled look, although he nodded his agreement all the same as he moved off. No doubt his pride was stung at being told that by someone more than thirty years his junior, but the facts were the facts.

" _They are scared._ " Etal hissed into his ear.

" _I know_." Harry hissed back.

" _I do not understand._ " The quetzalcoatl went on. " _That which fears you is your rightful prey. Why would prey attack the predator?_ "

" _Humans like to think themselves the masters of the world and delude themselves into thinking that they are above being preyed upon, to the point of being outraged that any creature dares hunt them. These that are with us today are convinced that defending the weak from being preyed upon is a worthwhile goal and will fight in spite of their fear._ " Harry explained.

" _Foolish to leave their own nests unguarded in order to protect those even weaker than they are._ " Etal declared disdainfully.

Harry smiled wryly. Trying to explain the functions of a human society to the quetzalcoatl was a work in progress.

The Anti-Apparition and Anti-Portkey wards went up. Etal shot up into the air as planned.

" **I'm waiting for you outside, Tom Riddle.** " Harry said conversationally, using a minor cantrip to send his words into the house.

A couple of seconds later, one of the top floor windows exploded outwards and the dark-robed figure of Voldemort flew out of it.

"Harry Potter." The Dark Lord said softly as he landed in front of him. "Very brave...or perhaps very foolish of you to come alone."

"I missed these delightful conversations of ours and you always run away when I bring my girls." Harry smirked.

The sounds of Aurors and Death Eaters fighting could be heard in the background, but they both ignored it.

Voldemort's expression tightened, but he held on to his temper for now. "And what did you want to talk about?"

"I want to know if you've given our last conversation any thought. If you succeed in conquering the world, in which direction will you steer mankind?"

"Strange that you would fixate on what I would do long after you are dead." Voldemort commented, pointedly not answering the question.

"I've dedicated my life to asking how and why. I know _how_ we became enemies, but I don't know _why_ and it bothers me." Harry said flatly.

Voldemort actually looked thoughtful for a moment, so he continued. "The world is cold and unfeeling, it grants neither meaning nor answers, forcing us all to find our own if we can. So tell me, what does it mean to live? Is it to wage war against the passing days? To pray to the unseen for a few breaths more? To write yourself into history by any means necessary? To chase after a transient sense of love and spawn new life in turn? If you don't know the answer to this question, then is the tapestry you weave truly of your own design?"

"Why are you asking me this?" Voldemort demanded, visibly agitated.

"You've made many choices on the journey of your life, and the ripples of those choices have altered the paths of many, mine more than most. Is it so strange that I'd want to know what the point of it all is?"

"The point?" Voldemort sneered, his red eye burning with hatred. "The point is to show the filthy muggles their place. The point is to take _my_ rightful place as ruler of wizardkind, as befits the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

Harry just looked at him silently for a long few seconds, then he sighed. "That's it? In the end you're just a petulant child that gained too much power, but never enough? I wasn't expecting much and yet I'm still disappointed. If I was going to be saddled with a prophecy then fate could have at least had the decency to give my nemesis more depth than a Super Mario character."

Disappointed though he was, Harry couldn't say he was surprised. After his last epiphany on the topic of Horcruxes, he'd gone over everything he knew about them again and begun to suspect that splitting one's soul had a multitude of deleterious effects that he'd previously not considered. The piece of soul sheared off from the whole remained static after all, while the main part continued to grow as a person accumulated life experience. The full scope of consequences such a thing would have was impossible to determine with only Voldemort as an example, but at the very least it would cause severe spiritual dissonance. There was a very good chance that a significant part of Tom Riddle had remained an angsty teenager with daddy issues, further exacerbated with every new Horcrus he made.

And this wasn't even going into the possible effects of then having those soul anchors destroyed. Little wonder that his aura was so twisted.

Voldemort was predictably infuriated by the condescending tone and reacted with predictable violence. He jabbed his wand forward with a vicious snarl, sending a crackling purple spell at him.

Harry grasped his staff in both hands and parried the spell into the ground nearby. A circular patch of grass at the point of impact melted into dribbling purple slime and it continued to spread.

He returned fire with a barrage of glowing silver darts that would have turned Voldemort into Swiss cheese if he hadn't quickly put up a shield.

But it was merely a distraction, for the slime had given him an idea. His next spell was not aimed at Voldemort, but raked across the grass and the patch of inert slime.

At a glance it could have been mistaken for a sustained arc of lightning...but only at a glance. It looked subtly off, the colors hurting the eye. It didn't crackle so much as shriek. Most importantly, it just felt _wrong_.

There was no time to watch what it did though, as Voldemort retaliated with a Flesh-Melting Curse that he only barely dodged. It hit a tree some ways behind him and caused its bark to slough off like hot wax.

"What is this?!" The Dark Lord demanded sharply, staring at the parts of the grassy field that he'd raked with his not-lightning earlier with cautious, but also curious, eyes.

Everything hit by it, the slime, the grass and every little critter unfortunate enough to be in the way, had begun to _change_. The slime was pulling together together into a bubble the size of a basketball, the grass shivered and grew and its edges became jagged and blade-like, and the various insects became the size of cats and mutated into something that would have landed Harry a lengthy stay in Azkaban for creating if he was still beholden to the law.

Evolution was a process that took millions of years and had to stay within the confines of what was physically possible. Harry's magic unshackled it from those limitations.

The spell was barely even a spell, but more of a corruption of the principles of Transfiguation given form. A less controlled version of the Indigo Flame of Change that created horrible things, mutated everything it touched into creatures tainted by his own soul.

"I call it Dhar." Harry replied, not even bothering to hide his amusement. He'd shamelessly stolen the name from Warhammer Fantasy. He thought it doubly fitting since, not only did it definitely fit into the somewhat ill-defined bracket of 'Dark Magic', but any master of Transfiguation that saw it would probably also cry 'heresy!'.

It was unfortunate that Fleur and Dora had completely ruined the eldritch horror aspect of it by naming the resulting creatures...

"Dharlings, attack!" Harry commanded, feeling utterly ridiculous, but there was no way to get out of using that silly name. They'd be viewing each other's memories of their respective fights later and the unholy alliance of the veela and metamorphmagus would make things very annoying for him if he refused to use what they claimed was a genius name.

Silly name or not, his menagerie of mutant roaches, grasshoppers, earthworms, ticks, ants and more was quite vicious and pounced on Voldemort like a horde of rabid wolverines.

They would have torn him to shreds in short order if he hadn't glided across the field and swirled his wand around him, defending himself with walls of fire. For all that the mutant beasties were impossibly vicious, they were not fireproof.

Except for one. The slime monster created from the residue of Voldemort's opening spell made it through the flames and latched on to the Dark Lord's leg, beginning to digest it.

Voldemort hissed in pain and aimed his wand at the little slime creature and cast a Dessication Charm on it, corretly guessing that drying it out would work better than trying to burn it.

While this was going on, Harry had been busy preparing one of his more powerful spells. With a gesture of his staff, an icy blue comet was sent streaking towards Voldemort, freezing solid everything it touched.

Voldemort couldn't miss the build up of magical energy and saw it coming just as he killed the slime monster. His eyes widened and he panic-apparated several meters away. He was skilled and focused enough that he didn't splinch himself, but he was badly rattled by the close call nonetheless. Especially as he saw the Frost Orb continue on, leaving behind a glittering trail of razor sharp frozen grass until it hit a tree and turned that into an ice sculpture as well.

Now furious that not only had his nemesis drawn 'first blood' so to speak, but also that he had been made to taste fear in a duel, the Dark Lord retaliated with renewed viciousness.

Harry was pushed firmly on the defensive by Voldemort's trademark barrage of nasty curses and had little room to retaliate. He returned fire with a quick spell here and there when he could manage it, but for the most part he had to keep his focus on dodging and shielding.

Both of them kept themselves on the ground to conserve their full focus toward the fight and only used flight to glide across the ground the a quick dodge was required. The formerly picturesque grounds of the villa rapidly became a spell-blasted ruin as a result.

Despite everything, Harry was satisfied. True, he wouldn't be winning this one, but he had now confirmed beyond doubt how Voldemort fought. For all his power, the Dark Lord had little imagination. He relied almost exclusively on direct-effect battle magic used with overwhelming speed and force. It was not necessarily a _bad_ way to fight and would have probably been enough to defeat almost anyone, but it was a wee bit predictable if you had time to get used to it.

Not entirely his fault, Harry knew. Wands made magical combat fast-paced, but they also made it rigid and inflexible. On average, this was far superior to older forms of magical combat, because speed was in the end more important than almost everything else when you were fighting for your life, which was why European wanded wizards had been able to establish themselves as the pre-eminent group of magicals in the world, but at the highest tiers of power it started showing its limitations.

Harry was already able to keep up far better than he had a month ago. Back then, he had needed Etal to run interference for him and break Voldemort's focus, but now he was able to defend himself adequately all by himself. A little more skill and experience and they'd be on equal footing.

Then came the sign he was waiting for. Etal came out of nowhere and swooped past Voldemort at top speed, making him flinch and breaking the rhythm of his spellcasting.

Harry, knowing what that meant, slammed the butt of his staff into the ground.

" _Blade Grave!_ " He said commandingly, needing the extra focus that the words brought after being stuck in the routine of attack and defend for the past couple of minutes.

The earth around him rumbled and a dense forest of stone spikes shot out of the ground.

Behind him, Nagini hissed loudly in agony. She'd thought to launch a sneak attack, which was exactly what Etal had been keeping an eye out for. Her hiss soon morphed into a supernatural shriek as Voldemort's soul fragment was ejected from her dead body.

"NOOO!" The Dark Lord roared in fury.

Harry grinned widely, running on an adrenaline high. He was breathing a bit hard from the exertion, his armor was scored by a dozen hits that he had needed to take to avoid worse ones and magical exhaustion was beginning to creep into the edges of his perception from the strain of fending off so many vicious curses, but another Horcrux was destroyed. Only the Diadem of Ravenclaw to find and then it would be almost over.

"Sorry, Tommy, but I learned about your sneaky little pet from Bella." He taunted.

" _CRUCIO!_ " Voldemort screamed, his voice almost painfully high-pitched in his rage.

Harry dodged the predictable spell easily, although his eyes went slightly wide at the raw malice radiating from it. If that had hit him, it might have very well caused his heart to stop or a blood vessel to burst in his brain or any number of physical effects that the Cruciatus wasn't generally meant to cause.

Still, he didn't have time to ponder about how spectacularly pissed off Voldemort clearly was. He retaliated with a swarm of flames that would take up the Dark Lords attention enough to let him use something more powerful.

But Voldemort apparently had other plans. He viciously slashed his wand through the air with a snarl, snuffing out the flames. Then, instead of following it up with another spell, he glared and launched a Legilimency attack.

Everyone had their own particular take on the Mind Arts and Voldemort was no exception. Brutish and unsubtle, his assault cleaved into Harry's mind like an axe made of pure hatred, easily punching through the passive protection granted by the _Aul'El_ rune on his forehead. Harry was taken off guard by the unexpected venue of attack and had he been untrained or a novice in the Mind Arts, it would have done about as much damage as an axe to the skull as well.

But he _was_ trained, and very well at that. He practiced diligently every night before he fell asleep, he had mental spars with his girls and he often used Occlumency to compartmentalise his emotions when he needed to. However unexpected the initial mental attack was and however unpleasant it was to have Voldemort inside his head, Harry knew that as the defender, he had the advantage.

Voldemort's hatred-driven mental probe stalled as he drowned his mind in Dark; peaceful, serene and utterly apathetic.

The Dark Lord continued trying to tear apart his mind, but Harry was not impressed by the hatred that this miserable wretch had for him, nor was he intimidated by it. He gave no ground, did not try to throw his own hatred at the man, try to counter-attack or use love as a shield. All that he was remained buried behind impenetrable darkness and he gave Voldemort nothing but apathy; hollow, heavy, lifeless and exhausting. It clung to the Dark Lord's mental presence like an ever thickening coat of tar and leeched the strength out of it.

Harry had long since internalised the inevitability of death and the absolute insignificance of his own existence, which was a philosophical position anathema to Voldemort. He was terrified of death and full of his own self-importance, so he wasted his strength raging against the the uncaring Dark, throwing more rage and more hate into the attack. Harry gave him the mental equivalent of a dead stare for his efforts. He would win, therefore he had already won.

Voldemort stubbornly kept at it for a while longer, but the crushing weight of apathy eventually became too much and he broke off the attack with a gasp.

Although it had seemed like a long time in the mental plane, in the real world only a few seconds had passed.

The two powerful wizards stayed silent for a while, one trembling with rage and the other merely thoughtful.

Harry noted that there was no sound around them except for the crackling of fire here and there. There were no cries of battle from Aurors and Death Eaters or blasts of spellfire. That meant that the Death Eaters were either defeated or fled and the Aurors must have taken away the kidnapped students.

There was no more reason to stay here any longer.

"I'll be going now." Harry said casually as Etal settled around his shoulders. "You can count this one as a victory for yourself if you like since I'm technically running away because I can't beat you yet."

Voldemort bared his teeth in a hateful sneer. Both of them knew that by killing Nagini, Harry was not exactly leaving empty-handed.

"Hopefully I'll have my little surprise ready the next time we see each other." Harry continued, grinning aggressively and pointing the head of his staff at the Dark Lord. "Your final defeat approaches. Until it comes, live in fear."

And with that, he and Etal vanished in the swirl of a portkey transportation.

XXXXX

 **Credit for the pizza golem idea goes to my friend Milennial and his D &D tales.**


	49. Chapter 49

**So, this chapter was a bit late. There were reasons for this, all sorts of reasons. Reasonable reasons. Lots of them.**

 **Anyway, enjoy. Or don't, I'm not the boss of you.**

 **Credit for helping polish things up goes to Joe Lawyer.**

XXXXX

 _September 6th, 2018._

Hidden away in the private quarters of his secret hideaway, away from the eyes of his followers, Voldemort paced. His teeth were clenched, his fingernails dug into his palms and if his body still had the ability, he would be sweating.

Following Nagini's death and Potter's insinuation that Bellatrix had talked, he had been unable to dismiss a gnawing worry for his Horcruxes. Justifiably so as it turned out, because they were gone!

Lucius had cost him the diary, but he had assured himself that there was no way that they could have figured out where the others were, if Potter and Dumbledore even recognised them as Horcruxes. Going to check and finding the ring and Slytherin's Locket to be missing from their hiding places had obliterated that assurance.

The protections around the Gaunt shack had been breached and Regulus Black had apparently betrayed him. He'd always wondered what had happened to the man and now he knew – he had been torn apart by the inferi after stealing Slytherin's Locket and leaving that taunting message behind. No doubt he'd sent the real locket to the Black Family home with that house elf, where Potter had stumbled upon it. Or maybe Regulus had even arranged to have it destroyed himself all those years ago.

Ravenclaw's Diadem he was unable to easily check up on, but now he feared it was also gone. He couldn't think of any way that Potter could have learned about the diadem, but then he couldn't think of any way for him to have known about the ring either.

Hufflepuff's Cup was still in the Lestrange vault at least, Rodolphus had been able to sneak in and check since the goblins didn't care about his criminal status, but did Potter learn about it from Bella? He had insinuated that he had broken her and if he knew about the Horcruxes in general terms it wouldn't have been a stretch for him to guess that she might have been entrusted with one and divine the importance of the cup.

The worry gnawed at him constantly now. What if the diadem was also destroyed? Should he check up on it and risk accidentally exposing it to his enemies? What if he only had one Horcrux left? What if Potter was already plotting ways of getting the cup out of Gringotts? Should he move it somewhere else or leave it where it was? The cold hands of death felt like they were reaching for him, something he'd thought he wouldn't need to worry about ever again.

'Live in fear' Potter had said. Voldemort was enraged over the fact that he _was_ living in fear. He had always been wary of Dumbledore, but the old man only ever played defense. Potter was different, he took any opportunity to attack and didn't hold back at all.

He seriously contemplated creating another Horcrux just in case, but turning Nagini into one had already put a terrible strain on him. There was a limit to how much a soul could be mutilated and Voldemort suspected that he was right at the edge of that limit. He never let on to it, but the body he was using sometimes felt more like an ill-fitting suit of flesh than a real body, as if he might slide right out of it if he wasn't careful. He feared that fracturing his soul any further would reduce him permanently to that wraith-like state that he'd spent so many years in.

So he was stuck between fear that his immortality was slipping away and fear of the consequences should he attempt creating another.

And that wasn't even the end of his problems. None of his Death Eaters would dare say it, but Voldemort knew that their morale was low and that some of them were regretting their choices. They needed a decisive victory, but it was eminently clear at this point that they wouldn't be getting any of those for as long as Potter and his women were around. Any time they put so much as a toe out of hiding, overwhelming force was brought to bear against them.

Voldemort was the only one that could fight any of them, but even he couldn't handle all of them, not even with the reflex-enhancing ritual that had granted him inhuman speed and reaction times. Worse still, Potter was steadily getting better. At the moment Voldemort knew that he still had a firm advantage over him in direct combat, but the distance between them was shrinking and there was still the 'surprise' he'd hinted at...

In addition to the cold hands of death reaching for him, Voldemort now also felt like he was racing against time. His own power had plateaued decades ago, whereas his nemesis was young and still growing in strength. Would it end with them being equals as the prophecy said, or would Potter surpass him? His lack of knowledge on what else the prophecy said also squirmed in the back of his mind like a worm.

Deep down, buried beneath the mountain of arrogance that he used to smother his myriad of mental complexes, Tom Riddle recognised that of the two of them, Harry was the better wizard. It was obvious enough – He could do some wandless magic, but nothing nearly on the level that his enemy could. He recognised this and he feared because he knew the legends of Merlin and Andros the Invincible and other historical wizards. He had always considered himself one of them, even better than them, but Harry's clearly superior mastery of magic had rattled his confidence badly. He had also gotten a brief glimpse into Harry's mind with his Legilimency attack and was greatly disturbed by what he found there.

The only thing that Harry felt for their struggle was a sort of lazy contempt, irritation and a little amusement for the banality of it. He would fight to the end and was utterly determined to win, but still considered the outcome to be irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, as if they were nothing more than a pair of dust motes in the breeze. Voldemort hadn't felt so utterly disregarded since before the first time he discovered his magic and was simulataneously enraged and frightened by it.

Those feelings set the theme for him now.

He felt trapped between his fear of facing an enemy that was genuinely dangerous to him and his hatred of admitting any kind of weakness even to himself, between the demands of his ego to retaliate to avoid losing face and the need to rethink his strategy, between his urge to check on Ravenclaw's Diadem and the fear that he may inadvertently expose it if it yet remained hidden, between the urge to move Hufflepuff's Cup out of Gringotts and the fear that doing so would endanger it further.

Voldemort's precarious grip on sanity began slipping, and not slowly.

He had never been the picture of mental stability in the first place, but as long as things went more or less his way it wasn't immediately noticeable beyond his obvious psychotic tendencies. Now his sadistic temper was constantly on a razor's edge and people got Crucio'd for causing him the slightest displeasure, real or imagined. Those Death Eaters he chose to teach as a way of countering the threat of Luna, Tonks and Fleur suffered more than most, but they were also the most fanatical of his followers and their pain combined with the constant exposure to his twisted magic warped them further.

His planning abilities also narrowed in focus as his thoughts became consumed with fear and hatred towards his prophesied enemy. Tunnel vision developed as important considerations were disregarded in his obsession, considerations which no remotely sane wizard would disregard. The more intelligent of his followers would have warned him of the danger once upon a time, but now they were either too terrified to speak up or not brought into his confidence in the first place.

XXXXX

 _September 6th, 2018. Spellhaven._

"Alright, Cissy. What's the damage?" Harry asked.

He had offered to give his PR specialist/emissary/spokesperson/mistress a vacation to deal with her son's death, but she said that she preferred to keep busy. Harry wasn't sure if that was a healthy way of dealing with grief, but what did he know? He had a very different philosophical perspective on death than most people and didn't really experience grief the same way either.

"Not too bad, actually." The blonde witch said. "The involved countries have lodged a formal protest against us and Magical Britain for violating their sovereignty and endangering the Statute of Secrecy by engaging in magical combat in what is considered to be muggle territory. There was also some debate about censuring you for flagrant use of Blood Magic and a few have made demands that you remand any prisoners that were taken on their land."

Harry snorted. The first three things were just so much hot air and the last was simply not going to happen.

It hadn't surprised him overmuch when he learned that the magical world didn't have any extradition treaties in place. Like so many other issues, it was handled by the 'old boy network' that was pervasive among magicals due to their low population and long lives. Verbal agreements and money would be exchanged in return for prisoners of interest and that was it.

Making laws about it would have inconvenienced the people in power so they hadn't made any. Well now they could be inconvenienced by the lack of laws, because Harry wasn't playing that game.

"So nothing but empty grumbling?" Harry summarised.

"For now." Narcissa admitted. "It hasn't been long so there might be more coming though. At the very least we will face greater resistance to anything we propose to the ICW in the future."

Loss of political capital. Expected and not terribly important. It wasn't like Harry planned to meddle in international politics beyond keeping it out of his backyard.

"I guess the epic propaganda battle continues." Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "See if you can return fire with the usual; we're the only ones doing anything, get off your butts, stop getting in the way of killing a Dark Lord, etc."

"I've already spoken to our media department." Narcissa smiled.

 _Since when do we have a media department?_ Harry wondered. He knew, of course, that they had their own privately owned media business with the telemirrors, but calling it a department made it sound rather governmental. Maybe it was in one of those documents that he'd only skimmed over before signing? Given Narcissa's complete loyalty, he felt fairly safe allowing her a significant degree of independent authority over his affairs and that included trusting her summaries of important documentation.

Still, he'd have to look into this later just to make sure it was really okay and that Narcissa hadn't created some kind of ridiculous dictatorial propaganda machine for him.

"What about the evidence we presented on Karkaroff?" He asked.

"The Scandinavian Ministry of Magic said they would 'take it under advisement'."

Harry's expression twisted with irritation. The Scandinavian peninsula was still rife with pureblood sentiment and they probably didn't want to do anything about Durmstrang's headmaster because he was doing such a good job spreading that around at their premier school. That the supposedly reformed Death Eater was supplying Voldemort with young idiots was likely irrelevant to them.

If only Durmstrang was a bit easier to get into, he would have assassinated Karkaroff already. Unlike Hogwarts and Beuxbatons, Durmstrang was a veritable fortress bult into a mountain and much of it went underground. He wouldn't be surprised to learn that Tolkien had somehow heard of it and been inspired to base Moria on it. Flying in through a window in the form of a raven was simply not possible.

Aside from being a place of magical learning, it had also been created to be a bastion against the spread of Christianity. The local magicals had been mostly runeworkers and loremasters before the arrival of wand wizards around a century before Durmstrang was built, many of which doubled as a pseudo-priesthood for the Old Norse religion after missionaries succeeded in converting the chieftains and kings that had acted in the role previously. The Old Norse faith still died out eventually, but it took a couple of centuries longer among the magicals and it didn't get supplanted by anything as had happened among the mundane population.

"Anything else?" Harry asked.

"Not at the moment, though I have no doubt this situation will drag on for quite a while yet."

"Alright, thank you."

Nodding at the clear dismissal, Narcissa left the room.

Harry let his head fall into his hands and made inarticulate noises of exasperation. They still hadn't quite gotten done dealing with the aftermath of Voldemort's attack on Spellhaven last month and now this shit was being added on top of it.

Yet another sign that mixing magic and politics had been a terrible mistake. A thousand years ago, there had been no such thing as a stupid wizard, now the world was full of them.

 _But enough about that._ He thought bracingly and lifted his head with a deep inhale. _I was supposed to be joining David and the girls for a strategy meeting ten minutes ago._

XXXXX

"You're late." Dora said flatly as soon as he walked through the door.

"Sorry, my meeting with Narcissa ran late." Harry explained.

"Is that a euphemism for fucking her?" The metamorphmagus asked archly. "Because I am going to be very unhappy with you if you made us wait just to take care of Pokey."

Harry sighed in exasperation. Get one grandmother pregnant and your cock was stuck with a stupid nickname for eternity.

"He wasn't having sex with Narcissa." Luna interjected with Zen-like serenity.

"How can you tell?" Fleur asked curiously.

"He doesn't have that 'I just had sex' aura." Luna explained, yet did not explain.

"I have an 'I just had sex' aura?" Harry asked in consternation.

"I just said that you don't. Weren't you listening?" Luna asked back, staring at him with a tiny perplexed frown.

"I meant..." Harry stopped himself and just sighed again. "...nevermind, let's just listen to what David has to say."

The former military man stepped forward and coughed slightly to cover his embarrassment. Amusingly enough, being of a rather old-fashioned persuasion, he had more trouble getting his head around their very untraditional relationship than the magic. He was too polite to actually _say_ anything, but it was quite obvious that something was not computing.

Fleur thought it was hilarious and sometimes played it up just to mess with him. Even Dora occasionally played tricks on the man by casually shifting gender mid-conversation. Luna _seemed_ oblivious, but Harry wondered if she would one day take it upon herself to helpfully try 'explaining' it to him. That was one event that he didn't want to miss.

"Right, well I've reviewed your memories and there's a few things that stood out to me." David began. "First, the encounter in the Ministry with this Malfoy guy. I know you had almost every conceivable advantage over him, but that's no reason to be acting like a Bond villain. If he had explosives on him instead of whatever the hell that potion was, all three of you would probably be dead."

Harry winced. He knew that he had a penchant for talking to his enemies, or taunting them if they were significantly weaker than him. It was a terrible, stupid habit and he knew it, but he'd never tried to ditch it because...well, because he was proud of his power and it appealed to his sense of drama if he was being perfectly honest.

David was right, they were lucky that Malfoy hadn't had explosives and that was probably only because an exploding potion was one that had been brewed incorrectly. There was no such thing as a stable bottled explosion.

"I'll try to keep it in mind for the future." Was the best Harry could give him, because he couldn't promise for sure that he'd be able to resist slipping in a few taunts to his enemies.

David didn't look entirely pleased by the lukewarm response, but let it go for the moment.

"Next, Fleur's battle in Hogsmeade." He went on, turning to the veela. "You did well in removing the giant first, it was soaking up your side's fire and distracting them badly. Sending that...uh...pizza golem...to handle the trolls was also well done because it freed you up to act elsewhere. The problem is that you spent nearly thiry seconds just watching it fight and doing _nothing_."

"I was surprised." Fleur defended.

"That's not an excuse, the middle of a fight is no time to be sitting out in the open and gawking."

"Fine, it won't happen again." Fleur said stiffly, crossing her arms.

"Good." David nodded firmly, ignoring her clearly offended pride.

Harry had warned him that it was useless to butt heads with a veela, especially this veela, when pride came into it. Being a career military man before his honorable discharge, David naturally wasn't satisfied with that and insisted that stubborn pride got people killed.

So Harry had told him that he would handle it later. When David pressed him on it, he may have taken a bit too much amusement in informing the man that the best way to make a veela listen was to subjugate their pride and the best way to do that was to subjugate them sexually.

The memory of the man's intensely awkward expression still made him smile. It really was fun messing with David's conservative inclinations.

Harry glanced over at Dora and the metamorphmagus gave him a subtle nod. She would cover for him if necessary for the next hour or two while he fucked some sense into Fleur and made her take David's words to heart.

"While we're talking about the pizza golem." David turned to Luna. "It's a clever thing to make and surprisingly dangerous, but in the future, don't spring these things on your allies. Surprises are for the enemy."

"Okay." Luna agreed without fuss. Her dreamy tone and absent expression would give the impression that she was only saying that to make him go away if not for the tiny pout she was sporting. "I just wanted to impress my family."

"I was impressed." Fleur was quick to say, throwing her arm around the smaller blonde's shoulders and smiling down at her. "Steve was quite something."

Luna smiled happily and nuzzled Fleur's breasts.

"Moving on." David interrupted the moment, clearly trying not to stare at the spectacle. "Next day's fights went about as well as anyone can expect out of a mixed force and with how little time I've had to work with the Raven Host. I don't have much to say about the performance of the girls that I haven't already said."

"But you do have something to say about mine." Harry concluded.

"Yes, sir." David was still prone to slipping into military discipline at times. "I can't really comment on the duel itself – that's your territory – but why would you give your enemy information, _any_ information, that wasn't meant to trap him? You told him that you learned about his snake from a captured subordinate. You warned him that you had a surprise cooking for him. He's got to be feeling the walls closing in on him by now and there's no telling how someone that mentally unstable is going to react."

"I got carried away." Harry admitted. He was not a fighter by nature, but he had still developed some taste for battle in spite of that. There was a thrill in knowing that death was only one wrong move away and it made his normally calm soul sing with exhilaration. The fact that it had been dawn and the Sun had just risen, filling his magic with Light, also hadn't helped.

"I'll try to think of a way to train that out of you." David said, obviously seeing no need to press the point further.

Harry simply nodded. This was why he had brought the man here after all and getting huffy about his criticism would be counter-productive.

"Anything else?" He asked, giving David the opening for the thing they'd discussed the previous day.

"Just one thing." The man said and turned to look at Dora. "Tonks, your behavior could be a problem."

"What?" Dora said in surprise and a little indignation. "My behavior?"

"Yes, your behavior." David nodded implacably. "It borders on insubordinate."

"We aren't the bloody military!" Dora retorted, a hint of snap in her tone.

"That's true." David conceded. "And maybe insubordinate isn't the right word. I won't say anything about how the dynamic between the four of you works outside of combat, but the way you contradict Harry, who is clearly the leader, and force him to accept your way of doing things or else you'll go off on your own could have serious repercussions _in_ combat. What if he gives an order that you don't like and you either stop to argue with him or ignore it to do your own thing? I know you're older than him, that he isn't trained for command and that as an Auror you were technically in a position of authority over him for a while, but cracks inside the team are more dangerous than the enemy."

"I do that because I know how his mind works." She glowered. "He didn't care about any of those kids. I could almost see him thinking of ways to maximize damage to Voldemort at their expense. Merlin help me, because I can't help loving him, but he needs someone to prod him into doing the right thing or he'll watch the world burn and turn it into a science project."

"The choices won't always be between right and wrong. You're fighting against a sadistic monster and he _will_ take advantage of your morals. He's unbelievably arrogant, more than anyone I've ever heard of, but he's not stupid. What if he sets up hostages to split you up? Harry orders you to stay together and ignore the obvious trap, but you ignore him instead and go anyway. Maybe you overcome it and come out the big hero, but more likely you die and then what's going to happen? The four of you are close, far too close for my tastes to really be going into combat together, not to mention too young and untrained. If one of you dies, the shock will cripple the other three. Fleur will do that veela transformation thing and go berserk, Luna is honestly too soft to take a loss like that and keep functioning until the danger is over and Harry is – as you've noted yourself – dangerously close to being an amoral sociopath and I'd rather not see what grief does to him."

"He's right, Dora." Harry interjected before the metamorphmagus could think up a counter-argument. "Voldemort wasn't expecting to be found so soon, so he didn't have time to really booby trap the hostages, but he might very well do it next time and we won't be able to afford the risk of splitting up until the fighting is done. Draco's little suicide rush already proves that he's started to think in terms of ambushes instead of direct combat and he's probably also figured out that he can't beat me without getting rid of you first."

She pursed her lips, brows pulled into a mutinous scowl.

She really was the most troublesome of his women. Luna would never go against her family and Fleur, while being naturally inclined towards subverting men's wills with her feminine wiles, would follow his lead because he had thoroughly asserted dominance over her. She still played sexual power games with outsiders – probably to soothe her pride more than anything – and Harry didn't care about that, but within the group she was mindful of the social structure and obedient when it counted.

Dora was another matter entirely. A stubborn, willful woman with ideals and strong opinions. Not the type to try subtly manipulating him in return for validation and withholding it if displeased as was the usual female MO, but someone who would insist on things, challenge his authority and possibly go rogue if denied on an issue she felt strongly enough about.

Could be all that extra testosterone and other male hormones swimming in her body with Fleur regularly asking her to manifest male appendages and messing up her female instincts. Harry hadn't missed that, when the two of them had first started out, Dora's attitude towards other women had been 'not bad, but men are better'. Nowadays she was completely bisexual and apparently had no preference. She'd also become more combative and less playful over time, but Harry couldn't be sure if that was the gender bending or the stress of fighting Voldemort and all the ugly parts of humanity she'd been exposed to over the past few years. Probably a bit of both.

"I had to promise not to go off alone anymore like I did last month." Luna pointed out.

The metamorphmagus gave her a frustrated look.

"Nobody is asking you to agree with everything I do, Dora." Harry spoke up again. "By all means, argue with me all you like, as long as you only do it out of combat." Truth be told, he kind of enjoyed it when she was being argumentative. It made topping her in bed afterwards all the sweeter.

She was silent for a long few seconds before exhaling noisily. "Fine."

"Alright, I've already put together some team training exercises to get you all used to giving and following orders." David said with somewhat forced enthusiasm.

"And I'm increasing our own training time together to about three hours daily." Harry added.

Fleur and Dora groaned. They knew that 'three hours' actually meant 'twelve and a half days'. They didn't like spending so much time in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber because it was rather confining and it completely threw their sense for the passage of time out the window, but Harry was determined to at least have them make their own staves before the next clash against Voldemort.

Harry himself spent even more time in there, no longer concerning himself about night or day in real time. If he kept up this pace, he'd catch up to Fleur in age soon.

XXXXX

 _September 8, 2018. Ottery St. Catchpole._

Ginny quietly slipped out of the Burrow while Bill was keeping their mother distracted.

The past week had been a little bit...unbearable, mostly due to the Weasley matriarch. Between Ron's injury and Ginny's refusal to reveal what she'd been talking to Harry about, the tension in the Burrow had been thicker than pea soup and not a day passed without shouting or crying, oftentimes both. Ron had pulled through in the end, but it had been a near thing according to the healers and their mother was still prone to going into what could only be called 'frenzied fretting' about 'her poor baby'.

Ginny felt bad for Ron, she really did. He would be on a costly potions regime for the rest of his life once he was released from St. Mungo's, to mitigate the effects of the curses he'd been hit with. Still, she wasn't going to let herself be smothered because of it or emotionally blackmailed by her mother's hysterics and this past week had amply demonstrated that she needed to get away for a while before her own temper snapped.

Usually it wouldn't have been a problem because she'd be at Hogwarts by now, but Hogwarts had been closed for the foreeable future despite Dumbledore's protests. The new DADA teacher had apparently been killed in the fighting – before his job had even properly started, which had to be some kind of record. Combined with the loss of Hagrid, Harry's killing of Snape and the general uproar caused by the attack, Hogwarts closing down for a while was pretty much a foregone conclusion.

So here Ginny was, going to meet with Luna at her old home. They'd been in contact over the past week and now she was going over to stay with her for a while. Bill hadn't liked the thought of her joining the Raven Host, but had respected her freedom to choose and just advised her to get more information before making any final decisions, which dovetailed perfectly with her need to get away from her mother for a while. It was admittedly not very nice or brave of her to just slip away like a thief without telling anyone, but she did _not_ want to deal with the fit her mother would throw if she knew. Bill had agreed to explain it to her...but only after she had given him the cute little sister act. He wasn't eager to be a target for their mother's temper either.

The Rookery wasn't more than ten or so minutes away at a fast walk, so it didn't take her long to arrive.

Luna was already there, wearing a lovely blue sundress and she was...hugging her old home?

Ginny approached cautiously. Yep, Luna was definitely hugging the chess piece themed building.

"Luna?" She ventured bemusedly, staring at the content smile on the blonde's face.

"Hello, Ginny." Luna said, not opening her eyes or moving away from the Rookery.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked slowly.

"Listening to the stone." Was the serene answer.

"Ah... Does it have a lot to say?"

"Oh, yes." Luna nodded, finally peeling herself away and turning to look at her fully. "It remembers Mummy and Daddy and me. It misses us, which made me feel a little bad for never visiting this old place, but I think it's happy that I found another family to be with."

Ginny really didn't know what to say to that. She knew that magical dwellings could develop strange quirks, sometimes almost seeming to have personalities, but this was taking it a bit far. Maybe she should have expected this though. Luna had always been a little strange.

"Should we get going?" She asked instead of commenting.

"Yes, we should." Luna nodded and held out a small length of rope. "Grab on."

"Ready." Ginny said once she had a firm grip on the obvious portkey.

" _Snorkack!_ "

XXXXX

 _Spellhaven_.

 _Long distance portkeys suck._ Ginny thought sourly as she picked herself off the ground. A regular portkey was bad enough with its 'hook-you-by-the-navel' feeling, but the transition was so quick that it wasn't hard to keep your feet once you got used to it. Not only did a long distance one feel like it yanked harder, but it also felt like it took a while to arrive at the destination, which had made Ginny feel the need to compensate for sense of motion and left her sprawled on the ground.

"That was a pretty good landing for your first time." Luna said cheerfully, much to her irritation, and grabbed her hand. "Come on, I'll show you the room you'll be staying in."

Ginny let herself be led off, finally registering her surroundings.

Everything about this place screamed of wealth, from the wood paneling to the artwork and light fixtures. The youngest Weasley had never felt so out of place in her life and was acutely aware of her own family's financial status.

The feeling didn't abate when they arrived at the room she was to be staying in. The accomodations in Hogwarts had been very luxurious to her eyes, but this place was all silk sheets, super soft carpeting and satin curtains. The room even had a bloody balcony.

"...and just call for Teeny if you need anything." Luna was finishing up. "There's also Kreacher, but he tends to be a bit surly to anyone that isn't us."

"Alright." Ginny nodded, standing akwardly in the middle of the large room.

"Do you want to see the rest of the island?"

"Please." Ginny tried not to sound too relieved as she answered, but she was. There would be time to get used to all this opulence tonight, when it was dark and she was alone.

XXXXX

"Spellweaver, I was not expecting you until tomorrow." The massive magical creature asked with its hoarse voice, an eyebrow arched in question.

"I brought a friend!" Luna beamed. "Kitty, this is Ginny. Ginny, this is Kitty the Sphinx."

"Greetings." The sphinx said, tail lazily flicking through the air.

"Hi!" Ginny squeaked. Her mind was still trying to comprehend what kind of courage Luna had to be capable of calling a sphinx 'Kitty', because she strongly doubted that was a name the sphinx had chosen for herself.

"We play riddle games twice a week." Luna informed her cheerfully. "Or sometimes we play chess or checkers. I know that Harry also comes by every so often to talk history with them. Do you want to join us tomorrow? I could try to find a game that all three of us could play together."

"Sure, I guess." Ginny replied awkwardly. The initial fear had left her at the obvious friendship between Luna and 'Kitty', but she was having a hard time picturing a sphinx playing chess, or any other game really.

"Great!" Luna cheered. "We'll be back tomorrow, Kitty. I still have to show Ginny the rest of the island."

"I will await your arrival." Kitty said simply.

XXXXX

"You said you joined the House quidditch team, so I thought you might like this." Luna was saying.

Ginny stared wistfully at the ongoing game. Yes, she had joined the Ravenclaw quidditch team as a chaser and been damn good at it. She'd even been leaning towards going professional after graduating, but quidditch wouldn't help if she found herself fighting for her life and family again.

For the first time, she felt like she could understand why Harry had been able to drop out of Hogwarts without so much as a glance back. House points, quidditch and good marks on exams were nice if you were aiming for an ordinary life, but Harry had obviously never intended to be ordinary.

She vividly recalled the look of unimpressed contempt he gave people, herself included, who tried to berate him about the House points he had cost Ravenclaw with his belligerent attitude, or to those who tried to talk to him about upcoming quidditch games. It had baffled and frustrated her at the time, but now she had to wonder what had happened to him that he had come into Hogwarts already jaded enough to be like that.

"You can pick up one of the brooms and join a game for fun whenever you want." Luna continued.

"Sure." Ginny nodded. It would make for a good way to unwind at least, and the brooms were top quality so she might join a game just to test one out.

"Come on, I want to show you my little girl next!" Luna squealed happily and grabbed her hand.

Ginny could only gape at her friend in shock. Surely Luna hadn't just implied that she had a daughter?

XXXXX

"This is Marae, she's mine and Harry's and Nymphadora's and Fleur's daughter." Luna beamed.

The towering dryad looked back with a curious expression on her stiff, wooden face.

Ginny wasn't sure if she should be relieved or amazed or what.

"She's not exactly little." She said inanely, staring up at the seven and a half feet of plant woman.

"I think her mother might have been an oak." Luna replied equally inanely.

Marae suddenly stepped forward and reached towards Ginny's face, which made her instinctively flinch back. Thankfully for her peace of mind, the dryad stopped, although the sort of pouty feeling she got from her was very unnerving.

"Don't worry, she just wanted to breastfeed you." Luna explained reassuringly.

"What?" Ginny asked in disbelief.

"See the nectar leaking from her nipples? She likes to share it with everyone." Luna explained some more and then paused. "You should only drink it if you want to have sex though. Part of her is made from Fleur's magic so that stuff is basically diluted liquid Allure and ingesting it will make you very randy."

"Oh." Ginny fidgeted awkwardly. She'd had one or two broom closet adventures last year, but nothing more than heavy snogging and some petting. "Speaking from experience?"

"Oh yes. It's especially useful for one-on-one sex sessions with Harry, otherwise he wears me out too quickly." Luna was obviously not embarrassed at all, which struck her as just a little unfair.

"Is he, uh, that good?" Ginny just knew that she was blushing all the way up to the roots of her hair, but she had been curious about sex for years now and this was too good a chance to pass up.

"Would you like to find out for yourself?" Luna asked guilelessly. "His preferences are for tall-ish, curvy women with dark or blonde hair over petite redheads, but he's not _that_ picky."

"NO!" Ginny burst out in mortal embarrassment, feeling her face heating up several more degrees.

"Are you sure?" Luna peered at her skeptically.

"Yes, I'm sure. I do not want to sleep with Harry."

"Don't worry about that, Harry wouldn't let you get much sleep." Luna remained earnest and helpful.

"Can we please stop talking about this?" Ginny begged.

"Okay."

Marae gently patted her head as if trying to comfort her, which would have been much sweeter if she wasn't also trying to direct her towards a leaking nipple.

XXXXX

After escaping the dryad's amorous attention, the tour continued in a slightly less exciting manner. Luna showed her several other entertainment venues, introduced her to the man that was primarily in charge of training the Raven Host, took her to a late lunch and finished it off with a trip to a veela-run massage parlor.

Ginny had noted with some amazement that Luna was being given a _lot_ of deference. She had been treated almost like royalty, they didn't even pay for their lunch! It had been pretty easy to slip back into comfortable familiarity with the flighty blonde, but the subtle indications of Luna's social status disturbed the illusion that it was just like old times. In many ways even more so than the occasional glimpse of the magical power she now held.

Still, she enjoyed herself for the most part, even if she didn't feel like she belonged. The massage parlor had been particularly awkward and she hadn't really wanted to go at first, but Luna had friends there and insisted.

Luna's friends were apparently more in the category of 'friends' and the sexual overtones were thicker than porridge, but Ginny had to admit that these veela knew their stuff. Despite her discomfort at the thought of some randy veela feeling her up, she'd been nearly forced into relaxation.

That Luna seemed completely comfortable and even promised to invite the masseuses over to the cháteau someday soon was both familiar in how utterly blasé it was and at the same time further reinforced the sense of disconnect between Ginny and her old friend.

Now they were back at the cháteau, so that she could be formally greeted as a guest or something of the like. Ginny didn't really get it, but was willing to go along with it since Luna insisted that it was important.

The first person they ran into was Narcissa Malfoy. Or Black again, Ginny supposed, but it was hard for her to stop thinking of the blonde witch with her cold beauty as anything but a Malfoy.

"Luna, I'm glad you and your guest are here." She said, smiling at them in a way that left Ginny feeling quite nonplussed. She couldn't claim to really know the woman, but it was hard to imagine someone who could smile like that being married to the likes of Lucius Malfoy or raising a little monster like Draco Malfoy.

"What is it, Narcissa?" Luna asked.

"I've had Molly Weasley intermittently floo-calling me for the past three hours, demanding to speak to her daughter. I told her I'd pass on the message but she seems to have convinced herself that we're holding young Ginevra hostage or something and has been getting increasingly hysterical about it."

Ginny wanted to facepalm in embarrassment. Would it kill her mother to stay calm for a change?

"Sorry about that, she's been a bit out of sorts with Ron's injury and has been driving the rest of us crazy with her coddling." She said uncomfortably. "I sort of snuck out without telling her to avoid an argument, but I left behind a note and told Bill everything. I guess she didn't listen."

"I understand what it's like to be worried about your children." Narcissa said tightly, grief bleeding through her controlled mask for a moment.

Ginny belatedly remembered that this woman's son had died not long ago, fighting against the side she was supporting. The papers had not been kind to Draco Malfoy after his death.

"Is Harry back yet?" Luna asked, breaking the awkward silence that was just starting to establish itself.

"No, he's been working longer and longer recently." Narcissa shook her head with slight exasperation. "I suppose I can't complain since he finishes all the necessary paperwork promptly now instead of putting it off like he used to, but I'm worried about him."

"Nymphadora and Fleur were planning to talk to him about that." Luna nodded. "I think I'll sleep with Ginny tonight and leave them to it."

"What?" Ginny asked, startled by the unilateral decision.

"We could talk about girl stuff!" Luna continued enthusiastically.

"Alright..." Ginny accepted cautiously, but also with some anticipation. She did have friends in Hogwarts, but not terribly close ones, always more of a friendly outsider than a core part of any group.

Her group had been Harry and Luna, and she had often wondered at how different things would be if she'd been a little less demanding and a little more accepting back then.

Would she have gone with them when they left? Probably not since they were both orphans and she had her family's opinions to consider, but maybe they wouldn't have lost touch.

"Could you go talk down Molly Weasley first?" Narcissa broke in again.

"Sure!" Luna chirped. "Come on, Ginny."

Ginny wondered once again at the distinct feel that the much older witch had been deferring to the younger.

XXXXX

Talking Molly Weasley down when she was in one of her moods, especially when it was a mood brought about by worry, was never an easy task, but Ginny managed it. Eventually.

"Sorry about that. Mum worries too much." She said sheepishly to Luna, who had been helping in the mounmental task.

"Your mother loves you." Luna said simply.

"Yeah, she does." Ginny nodded. Nobody could ever say otherwise, but she was an adult now and knew that if she didn't fight for her independence, she'd be treated like a child forever. That might have been fine for Ron, whose life goals seemed to include sleeping and eating interspersed with chess or quidditch, but it wasn't fine for her.

"Harry's back." Luna suddenly announced with a bright smile. "Let's go greet him."

"How do you know?" Ginny asked, confused by the sudden knowledge.

"Magic." Was the completely unhelpful answer.

True to Luna's word, they did indeed find Harry in short order.

"Harry!" Luna beamed at him happily.

"Luna." He replied in a tone that Ginny could only call 'hungry'.

That impression was only reinforced when he stepped forward to give the blonde witch a kiss. Not a simple peck on the lips or chaste gesture of affection either, but an aggressive claiming of her mouth with one hand fisted in her hair.

Ginny blushed and looked away, feeling like an intruder.

It felt like an age passed in squirming discomfort before she heard them separate and dared to look again.

Luna had a dazed smile on her face as she looked up at Harry. His hand was still tangled in her hair possessively as he smirked in obvious satisfaction.

Fearing that they might forget she was there, Ginny quietly cleared her throat.

Both sets of eyes swung towards her.

"Ginny." Harry said. His voice was even rougher than before and his green eyes glowed with a hungry light that left her feeling naked and exposed.

"Hi, Harry." She managed to squeak. Flushing even brighter and looking away.

By Merlin this was embarrassing. She wasn't here to resurrect her old crush on him, but there was just something so damned attractive about him and she wasn't even sure what it was. Maybe it was the way his sleeveless shirt displayed his muscular chest and arms, or the stubble on his cheeks that gave him a roguish appearance, or even the sharp smell of fire and metal hanging around him.

"Look at me." He demanded abruptly.

He hadn't raised his voice, but Ginny still jumped slightly in surprise and unthinkingly obeyed. She struggled to keep from trembling, either in fear or something else. The intangible sense of power around him was nearly overwhelming, so much different from Luna's calm presence.

"So, you decided to try for the Raven Host after all." It obviously wasn't a question, but Ginny felt compelled to answer anyway.

"Y-yes." In the privacy of her thoughts, she cursed the small stutter. She was supposed to be an adult now!

"I'll test your resolve tomorrow." He said with a small nod. "Feel free to make yourself at home. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to borrow Luna for a little while."

"But I haven't showed her everything yet." Luna protested.

"She's a big girl, I'm sure she'll manage on her own until I'm finished with you." Harry purred and unceremoniously threw the petite blonde over his shoulder, ignoring her surprised squeal, turned around and started walking away.

Ginny gaped at his retreating back in shock.

"Ginny!" Luna called out urgently from where she was slung. "If you see Fleur or Nymphadora, tell them to come to our bedroom!"

"Okay..." Ginny said hesitantly, wondering if this was normal and if her friend was going to be alright or if she should get help. Luna didn't appear particularly distressed, so it was probably fine...then again, when did Luna _ever_ appear distressed?

Harry disappeared behind a corner, leaving her frazzled, worried, confused and perhaps most importantly, alone.

XXXXX

"You were aura seducing her." Luna said as soon as they were out of Ginny's hearing range.

"I was not, I'm just horny as fuck." Harry retorted. Of course, his aura projected his need and someone with senses as dull as Ginny would just find her interest drawn to everything she found attractive about him without ever realising what was really going on.

"Couldn't you have gone for Narcissa or Septima?" She asked. "It really is quite rude to leave a guest hanging like that."

"I could have, but I wanted you." Harry grunted and adjusted her so that she wouldn't slip off his shoulder.

"Oh, alright then."

The rest of the short trip to the bedroom was made in comfortable silence, except for Luna's cheerful humming.

Harry had to smile at the low level absurdity that seemed to follow Luna around like perfume. He could clearly sense her arousal and anticipation and knew that she was humming to herself as a way to pass the time before they got to the fun, but to a casual observer it would be baffling.

Once they were in the master bedroom, Harry tossed Luna onto the bed in a high arc.

"Wheeee!" She squealed as she flew through the air and giggled as she bounced on the enchanted matress a few times.

Harry quickly cast the specialised spell he'd invented for removing one's shoes and socks, because really, removing those before sex was the worst.

The shirt was next to go, leaving him topless and barefoot.

"You've gotten kind of bulky lately." Luna observed. She was lying on her stomach, head propped up on her elbows and bare feet kicking in the air. She looked irresistibly cute with her pale blue sundress and open smile.

"It happens when you spend a lot of time working a forge." Harry said wryly as he approached the bed.

"I like it." She declared, reaching for his belt. "But you should still take it a bit easier."

"I'll think about it." He said, but didn't really mean it. Voldemort was like the proverbial fly in the soup, spoiling an otherwise good life, and he wanted him gone. His current project should decisively swing the direct combat advantage in his favor and it would give his girls even more protection. That was worth overdoing it a little bit.

Luna hummed in response, not commenting on the obvious evasion. Instead, she seemed completely focused on the task of undoing his belt, her tongue sticking out cutely in a show of concentration.

"Aha!" She proclaimed triumphantly when the belt buckle surrendered to her deft fingers. His pants were tugged down with the enthusiasm of someone opening a Christmas present.

Then she proceeded to giggle and rub her nose into his silk-clad crotch, apparently purely for the pleasure of rubbing against the smooth material.

"Luna..." Harry growled warningly.

She looked up at him with an impish smile, but stopped playing around and pulled down his underwear.

"Hello, Pokey." She cooed at his manhood as it dangled in front of her face. "Did you miss me?"

Harry took a deep breath, put a hand on her head encouragingly and exhaled as she began to gently kiss the tip and run her tongue along the shaft.

He'd spent another nine days in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber just now and his libido was roaring at him to pin her to the bed and take her, but he resisted the impulse. Luna enjoyed taking her time during the foreplay and he liked to accomodate her, however hard it was.

Fortunately she understood that his forbearance had limits and hinged on her not messing around too much.

Her feet were still kicking and it was actually kind of distracting. The action was incongruously childish and jarringly out of sync with what else she was doing.

Then Harry felt magic being shaped, magic that was focused on his family jewels.

Looking down sharply, he met Luna's eyes. The pale blue irises were often inscrutable, but this time the request for permission was clear in them.

That already made him feel like a bit of a hypocrite. How often had he used spells on her or Dora or Fleur during sex without asking? Very often, almost every time even. He had been doing it long before they were even aware of it actually.

So he willed himself to relax and gave Luna another encouraging pat on the head. If he couldn't trust Luna then he couldn't trust anyone.

She beamed at him brightly and went back to work.

Harry's attention this time was split evently between her roving tongue and the magic she was shaping. It was clearly a new spell judging by the painstaking care she was putting into crafting it.

It took a couple of minutes before it was ready and Harry had to restrain himself from disrupting it as it settled on his genitalia like a form-fitting piece of clothing. The spellwork was familiar and something that he himself used often, a sensation amplifier and something to delay release, but adjusted for a man.

"Expertly cast." He praised, smiling in both pride at her progress and amusement at the timing of the teacher moment.

"Thank you." Luna flashed him another smile and then took his manhood into her mouth.

Harry groaned in pleasure, immediately feeling the difference. He'd never sought to increase his own sensations during sex because a significant part of the fun for him was being in control and sensation overload was the opposite of control.

Fleur would have immediately capitalised on the advantage and tried to take charge, even Dora might have thought it was too good an opportunity to pass up, but Luna was just too nice to do that. She knew what he liked and was happy to provide it for him.

 _At least one of us is nice._ Harry thought wryly as he stepped a bit closer to the bed, giving Luna no real choice but to deepthroat him because her position and his hand on her head didn't allow her to easily back up. He'd long since trained her to supress her gag reflex.

Luna accepted the new situation without complaint and started humming some tune as she bobbed her head on his shaft, also to the rhythm of whatever song she was humming oddly enough.

Harry groaned in both pleasure and frustration as the spell held his climax at bay. He pushed harder on Luna's head in an effort to somehow facilitate orgasm, disrupting her rhythm as he forced her to take him all the way to the hilt.

But the orgasm didn't happen and he soon had to let go so that Luna could breathe. She immediately backed up all the way and looked up at him the sort of amused exasperation that one gave to someone that had just done something very silly.

"Don't do that, Harry." She admonished. "The spell won't wear off until I finish my song and you just made me start over."

Harry was both irritated and a little bit amused.

"Alright, get on with it then." He huffed, keeping his hands by his sides.

What followed was the longest few minutes he'd ever experienced outside of temporal shenanigans. Luna's song was something slow and leisurely and he felt on the edge of bursting the whole time. It took a serious effort of will not to grab her head and roughly facefuck her, with the knowledge that it wouldn't help being the only thing that was really stopping him. His jaw hurt from how hard he was clenching it the whole time.

When Luna finished humming her song and the spell broke, his knees nearly buckled from the relief as he unloaded himself down her throat.

When it was over, Harry was panting as he carefully removed his hands from where he'd grabbed Luna's head.

She slowly pulled her mouth off his member, lingering at the head a little while to lick off the last drops of his release and then disconnecting with a loud pop. She looked at him with an expectant grin. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes, but I think I'd rather you use this technique sparingly." He replied dryly. The raw physical pleasure had been great, the lack of control not so much.

"Okay." Luna chirped and rolled over onto her back so that she was looking at him upside down.

"My turn to taste you, I think." Harry said with a leering grin, reaching over her to grab the dress by the skirt and pulling it off her in one move.

Harry looked down at his youngest girl and his grin widened in both anticipation and some amusement. The anticipation was for the athletic body that her aerobics routine with Fleur had given her. Her breasts were only modest B-cups on the low end of the scale, making her look quite flat in her current position and her short frame wasn't especially curvaceous, but the lines of her body were well defined and attractive nonetheless. Plus, all those squats had given her an arse that any woman could be proud of.

The amusement was for the animated menagerie of animals cavorting over her lacy white panties.

"I see you've been enchanting your underwear again." He commented.

"I like the tingles." She said, cupping her groin.

"I'll give you tingles." Harry muttered to himself, reaching under her to undo her bra and capturing one of nipples in his mouth.

"Your beard tickles!" Luna giggled.

Harry deliberately rolled his jaw along her skin, grinning at her squeals of laughter.

"You're mean!" She pouted when he relented.

Harry gave her a quick upside down kiss. "Yes. Yes, I am."

He kicked off the pants and underwear that were still pooled around his ankles and settled down on top of her, both of them now having their heads at the foot of the bed.

"Pokey's woken up agaaaaain, and he's poking me agaaaain~." Luna sing-songed impishly, wiggling her underneath him.

"Shush, you." Harry said and kissed her again, deeper this time.

Luna sighed happily into his mouth and ran her small hands across his sides and arms, quite clearly enjoying the muscles there.

Harry slowly moved down her body, laying kisses and little bites over her neck, collar bone, breasts and stomach until he reached her panty-clad pelvic region.

The lacy undergarment had an obvious wet spot on the groin area, giving mute testimony to Luna's arousal. Harry buried his nose there and inhaled deeply.

"You smell as sweet as ever." He said teasingly.

"That's because I eat my fruit and veggies." She informed him sagely.

"Good girl." Harry said and pulled off the panties, nearly rolling his eyes as the animated critters on them tried to 'attack' his fingers.

Once the panties were sent flying across the room – perhaps with slightly too much glee at the fate of the animated beasties 'living' on them – Harry grabbed one of her feet and started kissing his way up her leg from the ankle onwards.

When he returned to her groin he took another deep whiff – she really did smell sweet – and dragged the tip of his tongue across her nether lips, picking up the liquid evidence of her arousal. She tasted as sweet as she smelled, an understated and subtle flavor, but he loved it, just like he loved the little gasps and moans she made in response.

Harry swirled his tongue around her clitoris, expertly applying the original version of the vers same spell that Luna had used on him earlier. Her moans and squirming increased in intensity along with her pleasure.

He kept at it for a while longer, taking immense enjoyment in both the pleasure he was giving her and the power it gave him over her, but he pulled away before she reached her climax.

"No, don't stop." Luna panted, raising her eyes to give him a pleading look.

Harry crawled over her body until they were face-to-face again.

"Shush, you." He repeated and claimed her lips in another deep kiss. Down below, he adjusted the angle of his manhood and slowly slid inside her soaking passage.

Luna gasped against his mouth and clung to him as she was filled.

Once he was all the way in, Harry stilled and smiled into the kiss as he felt her clenching and squirming beneath him, obviously trying to goad him into moving.

But he didn't move, choosing to focus completely on the spiritual side of things instead. His magic pushed into her, reaching towards the core of her being and she reached towards him in turn. The bridge formed between their souls, built strong over years of complete trust and acceptance.

He started moving in a slow rhythm of thrusts and she matched his timing perfectly with the angling of her hips to give him better access. Although they remained distinctly Harry and Luna, they were also connected at too deep a level to be just Harry or just Luna.

Time became a meaningless concept as the physical and spiritual sensations flowed between them in a feedback loop. Neither could have given an accurate estimate of how long it went on before they shuddered in each other's arms as they reached their peak together. Not that it was possible to reach it any way _but_ together when linked so deeply.

When lucidity returned and the spiritual bridge between them started unraveling, Harry rolled off her and lay on his back, taking a deep, satisfied breath.

Luna followed him and cuddled into his side. She grabbed one of his hands and moved it to her back, sighing happily when he took the hint and started gently dragging his fingers over her flushed skin.

The term 'post-coital bliss' took on a whole new meaning when the Joining was factored into the equation and they spent a happy few minutes just pressed together as the threads that had briefly bound their souls together slowly untangled and they each became completely their own person again.

"When the time comes, this is exactly how I want you to give me babies." Luna said dreamily.

"Thinking of babies already?" Harry asked with an arched eyebrow that she couldn't see. Luna was only seventeen.

"Nymphadora and I wouldn't mind waiting a while before having them, but Fleur wants to get pregnant as soon as Tom Riddle is dead. These are her most fertile years after all, even if that's less of an issue with how powerful Pokey is."

"And the three of you want to have kids at the same time." Harry guessed with a resigned tone.

"Yes." Luna confirmed brightly. "It'll be so much fun!"

Harry didn't see where the fun in dealing with three pregnant women at the same time was going to be, but he wasn't going to try talking them out it. He wasn't even going to ask Fleur to wait a while longer, citing her grandmother as an example of there not being any rush. Veela breeding instincts were quite powerful in their early to mid twenties, so it probably wouldn't do any good to try anyway. Plus, he knew that a few extra years weren't going to lessen his aprehension at the concept of fatherhood. He had kind of been hoping that they wouldn't drop him into the deep end right away though, but he really should have known better.

"Did you three discuss how many kids you each wanted?" He asked, too much of a pessimist to think that they'd be satisfied with one each.

"I'd like at least two, a girl and a boy." Luna said brightly. "I want to name them after my mum and dad."

Harry was willing to give his girls a lot of leeway, especially on the subject of naming their potential offspring since he didn't have any particular preferences, but no way in the Nine Hells of Baator, the six hundred and sixty-six pits of the Abyss and Mystra's magically moist cunt was he going to let his son be named Xenophilius. That would be just cruel.

Then he was struck by inspiration and a devious grin grew on his face.

"Why not flip the genders, use you mother's name for a boy and you father's for a girl?" He suggested, grin widening. "Xena and Pan. That way the names keep their Greek roots and honor your parents without being unoriginal."

"That's a great idea, Harry!" Luna enthused and gave him a quick peck on the lips before settling back down.

It was an effort of will for Harry to not burst into cackling laughter.

Pan might have that unfortunate association with Peter Pan, but he chose to ignore that and focus on the Greek god of the same name. The name would even be highly appropriate if the child ended up being anything at all like his mother.

Having a daughter named Xena would be the real kicker though. He could already imagine Dora's expression when she heard about this one and it was going to be even better when he gave her a chakram for a birthday present. Her tenth perhaps? That was old enough to start learning how to toss around a deadly weapon, right? If the edges were magically blunted and cushioned of course, he wasn't _completely_ insane.

Maybe his looming fatherhood was going to have some upsides after all.

They spent a couple of minutes in comfortable silence after that. Luna eventually got a little bored and started fondling his crotch to amuse herself, which quickly resurrected his erection.

Harry's hand drifted down her back and began kneading first one bun and then the other. Then his middle finger slipped down the little valley between them that was commonly known as the butt crack and began probing at her anus.

"Do you want to shag my bum, Harry?" Luna asked, smiling up at him.

"What gave it away?" He asked back mockingly.

"Your finger."

"That was a rhetorical question, Luna."

"Oh. Well, what if I don't want my bum shagged?"

"Nonsense, of course you want your bum shagged."

"That was a rhetorical question, Harry."

"No it wasn't." Harry insisted. "That was the presentation of a hypothetical scenario."

"It was too a rhetorical question!" Luna insisted right back.

"I'm going to rhetorically wreck that sassy little arse of yours!"

Luna squealed and launched herself off the bed with a tinkling laugh.

Harry followed in hot pursuit, but the petite blonde proved canny prey, using her small size to juke around armchairs and jump over couches like a rabbit.

Not for the first time, Harry wondered why the fuck they needed such a huge bedroom and so much extra furniture. However enjoyable it was to fuck on them, that was the _only_ thing anyone ever used it for.

Still, there were only so many evasions Luna could pull of and Harry got his hands around her waist before long.

"Nooo, let me gooo!" Luna demanded through her giggles.

"No chance." Harry denied with a snort and carried the wiggling blonde over to one of the previously mentioned couches that served no function except as extra places to fuck on.

In fact, Harry suspected that this might very well have been their purpose to begin with seeing as the cushioned sides were the perfect height for bending someone over.

Luna continued struggling with as much strength as her wiry limbs allowed, so Harry summoned a pair of handcuffs from the toy chest, pulled her hands behind her back and snapped them on her wrists.

Now having Luna's wiggling mostly under control, Harry summoned another item, this one from the substances cupboard.

Something that looked much like a medical syringe flew to his hand, but it had a rounded oblong tip instead of a thin needle. Within this item was contained one of his more fun creations, a magical lubricant designed to disintegrate any fecal matter and leave one's rectum more slippery than a greased eel. And minty fresh to boot.

Luna began wiggling her rear end ferociously in an attempt to prevent him from inserting the item, but Harry was not deterred. He pressed lightly on the plunger to squirt out a small drip of the lubricant and coat the tip, then he slapped the squirming blond over the cheeks.

Luna jumped slightly in surprise and that was all the time he needed to insert the lube applicator into her anus.

Which was of course the time then the door to the bedroom opened and admitted the other half of their foursome.

Harry looked at the amused faces of Fleur and Dora, down at his jutting erection, at the handcuffed Luna with a bright purple lube syringe sticking out of her butt and concluded that there was only one thing he could possibly say.

"This is exactly what it looks like."

That got him a couple of amused snorts.

"Hello, Nymphadora. Hello, Fleur." Luna greeted brightly, tossing herself over with a small grunt so that she could see them as well. "Did Ginny send you here like I asked her to?"

"She did." Fleur said with a wide smile. "It looks like we've come just in time."

Dora rolled her eyes and muttered something that Harry didn't quite catch, but it sounded a lot like 'thirsty whore'.

"She also said something about you wanting to spend the night with her?" The metamorphmagus said it like a question.

"Yes, that's why I need you to take over shagging Harry for me." Luna said with a nod. "He's just come out of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber and you know how he gets."

"Oh yes, we know." Fleur said huskily, staring at his erection and licking her lips in a way that was probably classified as public indecency in the majority of the world.

"I suppose we could take one for the team." Dora's smirk suggested that this wasn't just a noble sacrifice on her part.

Harry decided to be difficult.

"I don't know." He said thoughtfully, rotating the lube syringe that was _still_ sticking out of Luna's butt. "I kind of had my heart set on reaming Luna's tiny little arse."

Fleur walked up to him sexily, ran her hands over his bare chest and whispered hotly into his ear. "I'll let you ream mine later."

Harry turned to face her and reached up to twist one of her nipples in a way that was just this side of painful. She was only wearing a very thin silk top so it was easy to do.

"Maybe that's the problem." He said with a soft menace over her moan/yelp. "Maybe I don't want you to 'let' me. Maybe I want you to struggle and fight and squirm."

Fleur shuddered and looked at him with a wanton expression, skin flushed and eyes black.

"I can do that." She whispered softly.

Harry stared at the lust pooling in the black-eyed gaze for a few moments longer, rolling her nipple between his fingers the whole time, before wordlessly yanking the lube syringe out of Luna's butt and tossing it off to the side.

"We'll see." He told the veela, deliberately making it sound like a promise. With a wave of his hand, Luna's handcuffs undid themselves.

"Thank you." Luna said beamingly after springing off the couch and gave Fleur a peck on the cheek. "I'll just go take a shower to wash as much of Harry's sperm out of my vagina as I can before I go to Ginny's room."

And with that she skipped off to the attached bathroom. Harry continued to stare into Fleur's eyes as he rolled her nipple between his fingers, wondering how long it would take her to break. Judging by her panting, it might not be too long.

"Should I go find another room to sleep in as well?" Dora asked eventually, stepping closer with her arms crossed. She sounded snarky and Harry tasted a whiff of jealousy in her tone.

Ah, the downsides of managing a harem (and Harry had long since given up on calling it anything else) – the eternal balancing act to make sure you weren't neglecting anyone. Dora was by far the most likely to fall prey to insecurity in this manner despite her outward confidence.

"And leave me alone with just Fleur to play with?" He asked sardonically, nodding his head at the veela. "Just look at her, she's almost ready to cream herself and I've barely done anything."

Harry could almost laugh at how predictable the results of his dig at Fleur's sexual prowess and stamina were.

Dora smirked, obviously both amused by the dig and pacified by the implication that she could do better.

Fleur swelled in outrage, glared at him, then at Dora's smirk and then she grabbed the metamorphmagus by the head and began to vigorously kiss her, clearly giving him the cold shoulder in response to his insult.

Harry merely smirked and enjoyed the show. _Too easy._

Fleur was terribly simple to manipulate if you understood her likely reactions and knew how to apply just the right amount of pressure to her pride or vanity to trigger them. It wasn't the first time he'd used her like this to defuse any hints of discontentment from Dora, nor was it likely to be the last.

The two women divested each other of clothing while pointedly ignoring him, no doubt thinking all the while that they were punishing him.

Harry pointedly ignored their pointed ignoring of him and pressed himseld up against Dora's back, inserting his arms between the two women, groping and caressing and sucking hard on the metamorph's neck in that one spot that she liked in particular.

He couldn't go after Fleur or else Dora's previous jealousy would flare right back up. Of course, by _not_ going after Fleur first, he'd increased the veela's indignation. Not only because he was ignoring her 'punishment', but also because he'd usurped her fun while doing it.

Successfully managing a harem would probably be worth a doctoral thesis at a university sociology class, especially when you kept a couple of mistresses on the side. Luna was the only one that never gave him any trouble.

On the other hand, the rewards...

Harry cast a quick spell and the sex swing came alive to grasp at Dora's limbs, hoisting her upwards until she was horizontal with her legs spread apart before him at conveniently head level.

That done, he grabbed Fleur's hand and dragged her towards the hanging metamorph with him, pushing her down on her knees while he focused his own mouth on the glistening lips held open in front of him.

Fleur could have refused the unspoken command, could have turned away with a huff and continued giving him the cold shoulder, but she didn't. She didn't, because she was horny and her instincts worked against that course of action, because she was used to having all of her attempts at taking charge, overt or covert, foiled and was thus habituated into subservience. What she did was obediently start sucking his cock, albeit in a manner that could best be described as 'angrily enthusiastic', but that just made Harry smirk against Dora's sex as he indulged in tasting her. He was going to have fun fucking the anger out of Fleur later, which was the second part of defusing tension within the harem.

Definitely worth a doctoral thesis, juggling all this female ego.

Luna skipped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, dressed in just a bath robe, gave each of them a quick kiss good night and left to join Ginny in one of the guest rooms.

Harry spared a mournful glance at her retreating arse. Ah well, there was always next time.

XXXXX

Luna knocked on the door of Ginny's room, recalling Narcissa's lectures on how it was impolite to just barge into other people's living spaces. Or bathrooms in the case that sparked that lecture in the first place.

She pouted slightly at the memory. She had needed to talk to the older blonde about something and Narcissa could stay in the bath for _hours_. Maybe she was part mermaid?

The door was opened by a startled looking Ginny.

"Luna?" The redhead said in a questioning tone.

"Ginny." Luna returned cheerily. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." The redhead said quickly and waved her in. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." Luna smiled dreamily. After such a lovely shag and refreshing shower, she was more than alright.

"Oh." Ginny looked nonplussed by her answer. "It's just that...well, Harry looked pretty...um, _intense_...when he carried you off. And you've got nothing on except a bath robe."

Luna's brows knit together in confusion at Ginny's stumbling words, not sure what she was getting at. "Harry is always intense and I'm wearing a bath robe because I just got out of the shower."

"Oh." Ginny repeated awkwardly. "Could you put on some clothes?"

Luna pouted. Why did everyone want her to put on clothes all the time? "Why?"

"Because it's making me uncomfortable."

Luna considered that for a moment and then nodded. "Okay."

She made her way to the closet and pulled out a set of red silk pajamas.

"Better?" She asked once she was dressed.

"Yes, thank you." Ginny sighed in relief.

"You should change too." Luna advised, holding up a similar set. "We can have a pajama party!"

"Alright..."

Luna cocked her head sideways, wondering why Ginny sounded so reluctant.

"Could you please turn around?" The redhead asked, blushing.

"Fine." Luna said with another pout. She had wanted to see if Ginny groomed her bush at all or if she just let it grow free.

"Alright, I'm done."

Luna turned and immediately glomped the redhead. Then she proceeded to rub herself up against the redhead.

"Luna?!" Ginny exclaimed, blushing tomato red. "What are you doing?"

"Silk rubs." Luna explained sagely and rubbed some more.

"Quit it!" Ginny squirmed around uncomfortably.

Luna looked up at her with a sort of stern exasperation.

"You really need to learn how to enjoy the simple things in life." She said matter-of-factly. Honestly, how could anyone not like silk rubs?

"It's just weird to have you rubbing up against me like that, okay?"

"Bleeding from your vagina every month was weirder, but you got used to it."

Ginny gaped at her, speechless. Luna wondered what that look was about, but dismissed it as one of those silly things that people did.

"Besides, I can see your nipples through the silk. You liked it." She said instead.

Ginny gasped and covered her breasts, causing Luna to tilt her head sideways and blink slowly.

"I do _not_ like girls that way!" Ginny snapped.

"But you do like getting silk rubs!" Luna said brightly.

Ginny groaned and slumped in a defeated posture that simply _made no sense_.

"Can we stop talking about this?"

"Okay. Do you want to do girl stuff now?"

"What do you mean by 'girl stuff?" Ginny asked with a sigh.

"We could do each other's hair and talk about what we've been doing for the past few years." Luna suggested.

"Sure, I'd like that." Ginny nodded, looking relieved for some reason.

XXXXX

 _September 9th, 2018._

Ginny stumbled and grabbed onto Harry's arm to keep from falling to the ground as the long-distance portkey deposited them at their destination.

"Sorry." She smiled at him apologetically and righted herself. At least she wasn't eating dirt this time.

"No problem."

"Where are we?" Ginny asked, looking around curiously. They were on a mostly flat plain with a few low hills surrounding them. The ground was dry and dusty, dotted with sparse shrubbery and the rare tree. It reminded her of Egypt and the blistering heat of the late afternoon gave further credence to that feeling.

"Somalia." Harry answered blandly and started walking towards one of the lonesome trees.

"Oh." She'd never heard of it.

"That's on Africa's eastern coast."

Ginny said nothing as she followed along, feeling embarrassed by her lack of knowledge. She knew that Egypt was in Africa, but that was the extent of her knowledge. And even that was only because of that one trip her family had taken there years ago.

"Why did you bring me here?" She asked hesitantly.

"A lot of people ask to join the Raven Host, either for something as ridiculous as prestige or because they want to learn from me and Dora, but we can hardly spare the time to sift through all the chaff in search of those who have what it takes, so I designed a little test." He explained.

"What kind of test?"

"Of resolve." He replied simply and waved his hand at the tree which they had now arrived at. The air around it shimmered and now she could see an unconscious dark-skinned man tied to the trunk with his hands behind his back.

"No." Ginny whispered in horror as it dawned on her exactly what kind of test this was. "No, I can't."

"The Raven Host is a collection of witches and wizards that I feel have what it takes to be trusted in a fight to the death." Harry continued in the bored tones of someone that had given this speech several times already. "This test would normally come after I got some idea of a person's character, but I already know you well enough."

"I can't just murder an innocent man!" Ginny cried.

"Innocent?" Harry sounded amused. "Let me tell you something about Somalia. It has been gripped by one war or another for more than thirty years now, with negligible breaks in the fighting and no end in sight. Currently, the conflict is between the internationally recognised, but quite corrupt, official government on one side and religious lunatics with too many guns and too little sense on the other. Our friend over here was conscripted and indoctrined into the latter group at a young age. Since then he has killed, raped, murdered, kidnapped, tortured, enslaved and been an all around twat. He is many things, but innocent isn't one of them."

Ginny couldn't look at Harry or at the man she'd been brought here to kill. It was taking all of her willpower not to be sick.

"I can show you his memories if you don't believe me." Harry offered, sounding far too casual for her tastes. "Or if you prefer a live demonstration, I can take you to some of the areas that have been ravaged by the war. Mental trauma and moral outrage guaranteed either way."

She could only shake her head silently, wishing that she could sit down somewhere. Her knees were feeling a bit weak.

"it's alright if you can't do it." Harry said reasonably. "Honestly, I would have been _very_ surprised if you could have done it."

"Then why did you even bring me here?" She asked meekly, feeling very relieved but still quite sick.

"Everyone that joins the Raven Host goes through a test like this eventually. Killing is a lot like any other significant thing one does in life – it gets easier with practice. I bring them here and find them a victim that is similar to a Death Eater in behavior and tell them to commit murder, because if you can murder a man then you can definitely kill him in combat. And if you can't bring yourself to murder even someone as horrible as this, then it's best that you don't go into combat at all."

"Oh." Ginny said lamely. "But I don't want to learn how to kill, I just want to learn how to fight in case I have to."

Harry stared at her like she was the most confounding person to have ever lived.

"You know, I think that you actually still haven't truly grasped the realities of the situation." He said thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked warily.

"Observe." He said simply and waved a hand at the bound man.

His bonds fell apart and he woke up, looking around in confusion for a second before spotting them. His expression turned into something that made Ginny take a step back nervously.

He said something in a language she didn't understand, but it was unmistakeably a demand of some sort. He took a step forward.

Harry pointed the gun at the man and he froze, indecision in his face. Then Harry _threw the weapon towards him_!

"Harry!" Ginny hissed, watching in wide-eyed alarm as the confusion in the man's face turned to glee.

"Wait for it." Harry said calmly.

The man said something...gloaty.

"Well that's classy." Harry said dryly. "He just said that after he kills me he's going to rape you and keep you around as a sex slave because he likes your hair. Quite the romantic soul we've got here."

Ginny turned horrified eyes on him and was even more sickened when she saw the malicious anticipation on his face grow in response. She instinctively hid behind Harry.

The man said something else and pulled the trigger. Ginny flinched at the clicking sound, but then stared in confusion. She wouldn't claim to know a lot about muggle weapons, but that didn't seem right.

The man was obviously also confused, because he stared at the gun as if it had betrayed him, turned it around in his hand and slid something out of the handle, his perplexed expression growing more profound by the second.

Harry made a grasping gesture and the gun was ripped from the other man's hands. He directed a smirk down at her. "User restricted. You didn't really think I was going to let him have a usable weapon, did you?"

Ginny said nothing, because she actually _had_ thought that.

Then she noticed that the man was starting to move towards them.

"Look out!" She called.

Harry turned the weapon on him and fired it twice. The gun made quiet, obviously magically silenced, bangs and the man fell to the dusty ground with an agonized scream.

Ginny jumped in fright.

"Changed your mind about killing him yet?" Harry asked, as if he hadn't just blown out someone's knees.

Ginny looked at the ground and shook her head. She was now thoroughly convinced that he was indeed a horrible man that probably deserved to die, but she couldn't kill a defenceless person. Maybe if he had still been a threat, but not when he was screaming in pain on the ground.

"Alright then." Harry shrugged and fired the weapon again, cutting off the pained screaming so abruptly that Ginny flinched violently. "Ah, the rush of satisfaction when you remove stupidity from the world. Truly sublime."

"You're a monster." She said quietly, not sure where she was getting the courage to say that to his face. The shock of seeing someone killed right in front of her seemed to have tilted the world sideways.

"What is man if not a monster shackled by the trappings of civilisation?" Harry asked philosophically. "To walk the path of power means looking at some very dark shadows, both in your surroundings and within yourself. Only through self-realisation will you ever find the strength to break the yoke that binds you."

"I don't know if I can do that." Ginny admitted meekly.

"Most people can't. It's easier to live in chains than to take notice of the world's evils. Metaphorical chains, but all the harder to shatter or cast off for their lack of physicality."

"I thought you didn't believe in evil. 'The only good is knowledge, the only evil is ignorance', wasn't that what you said?"

"That quote got around, did it?" Harry looked surprised. "Gossiping Aurors, go figure. But yes, I do believe that. You think our rapey friend here thought himself evil? He didn't, almost nobody does. He and those like him are convinced that anyone that doesn't share in their mass delusion are the evil ones and need to be killed or subjugated by any means necessary. They think themselves virtuous for what they're doing. They cling to their ignorance and false knowledge like a security blanket, terrified of the world's uncaring truths. They will, in fact, actively seek to destroy truth and wisdom wherever they can because their minds and souls are too small to accept them. And this attitude isn't limited to religious zealots, they're just the most extreme example. _That_ is why I say that ignorance is the only true evil. Mankind as a whole is a base and trifling creature, an unthinking animal driven by instinct that will bite anything that frightens it, including itself. If you want to be powerful you have to rise above, and to do that you must know and understand what you are leaving behind."

Ginny kicked at a stone, not looking at either Harry, this killer that she had once called a friend, or the dead body of the unquestionably evil man on the ground nearby. She wanted to go home.

"I was monologuing again, wasn't I?" Harry suddenly asked, frowning. "Honestly, which idiot shoehorned me into the role of a hero in this story? I make a much better villain. At least monologuing would be in the job description then."

Ginny scrunched her eyesbrows in confusion. What the hell was he muttering about?

"Are you sending me back to the Burrow?" She asked, deciding that changing the subject was safer.

"Hmm? No, you're Luna's guest so you can stay as long as you want. You can ask her to supervise visits to our library if you want to learn a few spells, you can train with Dora and the Raven Host recruits if you want to learn how to fight, you can even go to Fleur if you want some experienced help in exploring your sexuality, but only come to me if you want to leave behind the world of comfortable lies."

XXXXX

 _September 17th, 2018. Spellhaven._

"Won't you please forgive me?" Fleur asked with a pout, projecting so much feminine cuteness that almost any man would buckle and immediately apologise for upsetting her, even if she was actually the one at fault.

Unfortunately for her, Etal was a cold-blooded reptile and not susceptible to the blatant emotional manipulation Fleur was attempting. He hissed at her in a most aggrieved manner and settled down even further around Tonks' neck.

"I think that might have been more effective if you'd let go of the staff first." The metamorphmagus observed dryly.

Fleur instinctively gripped the aforementioned staff tighter. It was six feet of ivory-pale wood, the shaft smooth and the top shaped into a duo of transformed veela craddling a solar focusing crystal between their wings. The core was a lock of hair from her grandmother, just like her wand, which was half the reason for Etal's sulking. She had simply felt a greater connection to her veela nature than to the quetzalcoatl.

"We still love you just as much, Etal, but not everyone can resonate with your feathers." Luna tried, holding her own pale white staff. Hers was shorter to accomodate her small height and had a shaft adorned with playful swirls. The top was shaped like the head of a unicorn, with the solar focusing crystal acting as the horn. Etal's feathers hadn't felt quite right to her either, so she had gone to the Forbidden Forest to ask a unicorn mare if she would part with a few tail hairs. This was the other half of the reason for Etal's sulking.

Luna's staff reminded Harry that he should look into acquiring some unicorns to settle on the island, even if it _would_ make a certain quetzalcoatl sulk even more.

Speaking of which...Etal obstinately stuck his head into Tonks' shirt.

"I guess he has a new favorite." Harry commented dryly, amused by all this drama that the quetzalcoatl was causing. The feathered serpent was taking the fact that Luna and Fleur chose other cores for their staves entirely too personally.

"I guess so." Tonks snickered, reaching up to run her hands along the smooth scales. Her own staff was a slightly lighter red than Harry's and of a simpler design, being mostly smooth and unadorned except for the head, which was formed into an open-mouthed quetzalcoatl holding a solar focusing crystal in its teeth. Unlike the other two girls, she had felt a good connection with Etal's feathers and decided to use one. That currently made her his favorite.

Their gathering was interrupted as Narcissa swept into the room.

"What is it?" Harry asked immediately. There was no meeting scheduled with Narcissa right now, so this had to be at least of mild urgency.

"A letter from Adrastia Zabini." The youngest Black sister said without preamble. "She says that she has something important to talk to you about."

"That seems...out of character?" Tonks ventured questioningly.

"It is, she's never serious when she doesn't have to be." Harry agreed.


	50. Chapter 50

**Joe Lawyer gets all the beta credits, for he is an excellent beta.**

XXXXX

 _September 18th, 2018. Spellhaven._

Adrastia was still dressed as if she had never even _heard_ of casual clothes, much less worn them, but her demeanor was not that of the teasing seductress she often affected.

"I've been asked to play delivery girl." She said briskly, handing him a binder done in somewhat fancy black leather.

"Just like that?" He asked instead of opening it immediately. "No smalltalk or innuendo? No hoops to jump through? No favors to be returned?"

The clear question was, of course, 'what's the catch?'. And there was definitely going to be a catch, because only Bjomolf was likely to employ Adrastia as a delivery girl. Harry doubted that the ancient bloodsucker trimmed his beard without an agenda.

"Take a look at that first and we'll see." Her tone seemed casual, but a hint of tension leaked through.

He gave her another searching look before cracking open the binder, his girls crowding around him curiously.

Harry's eyebrows climbed higher and higher as he flipped through the contents.

It was an extremely detailed personnel report on many of the currently active Death Eaters and various Voldemort supporters. Names, pictures, dates of birth, places of residence, school and work records, criminal records, employment records, business dealings, notable achievements, political leanings, rumors, relationships, friends, families, known associates, partial or complete psychological profiles.

There were chunks missing from many of the files, where he figured they must not have been able to ferret things out, but it was still a gold mine of information that must have taken decades to compile. It was exactly what he needed to take Voldemort's aspirations apart and leave the Dark Lord standing alone. It was...obviously not originally collected for his sake. Most of these files were started long before the people they were about had ever come into contact with Voldemort, some of them before his first rise even. No, this wealth of information looked like it had been gathered simply for the sake of having it if the sheer scope of the gathered details were any indication.

And there was more than just information in there, many of the files had materials appended to their files in carefully labeled plastic baggies. Locks of hair, fingernails, teeth, scraps of cloth stained with either blood or sperm or sometimes vials of the same...

Harry had been elbow-deep in too much disgusting stuff to be revolted by the 'samples', but he was greatly disturbed by the implications. Their connection to the original owners would wane in time, but never fully disappear and a skilled magic user could put them to good use. Few were paranoid enough to regularly perform the brief ritual that severed those connections and the vampires seemed happy to take advantage of the laziness.

Harry himself had lowered the frequency with which he performed that ritual to once every two weeks, and neglected to do it quite a few times. This innocuous-looking black leather binder had just sent such a creeping chill down his spine that he was going to go back to performing it every other day, if not every single day. He'd make the girls do it too.

"What the hell is this?" Dora voiced in disbelief, giving Adrastia a hard stare.

"Now that is a good question." The Black Widow nodded regally. "This is _most_ unlike Bjomolf. If he wants to help or hinder someone, he usually takes great pains to keep his hand unseen, but he is being almost transparent when it comes to you. Or at least seeming to be. Why is that, Harry? What does he hope to gain by helping you with your Dark Lord problem and so blatantly making sure you know about it?"

Harry would like to know that himself.

"In fact, his behavior towards you has been out of character from the start." Adrastia continued thoughtfully. "They observed me from afar for nearly a full decade before I was approached openly, yet you were invited for a private meeting mere months after I mentioned what an interesting wizard you are."

"What's your personal theory?" Harry asked.

"Hmm, I don't know if I feel like sharing it." She replied complacently, inspecting her perfectly manicured nails to complete the image of a snobbish woman in a snit.

Harry rolled his eyes. Of _course_ she was going to be difficult.

"Alright, fine. Thanks for delivering this. Would you like someone to see you out?" He asked politely.

Adrastia paused her nail inspection and looked at him darkly.

"The last time we spoke, you offended me grievously by asking me to surrender my freedom to you." She said evenly.

"Weren't you thinking of surrendering your freedom to the vampires anyway?" Harry countered. "I may not know much about the power dynamics between them, but I'm pretty sure that your sire would have a significant degree of control over you."

"In exchange for immortality, it is worth consideration. And I would eventually be free again."

"I wouldn't offer something of lesser value."

Adrastia leaned back into her seat slowly, staring at him intently.

"Something of equal or greater value to immortality via vampirism." She summarised shrewdly, to which he nodded. "And you still won't even hint at what it is in advance."

"Can't do that, either you take a leap of faith or walk away."

Adrastia's body language didn't betray much, but her aura screamed of both hesitation and curiosity. This was a pivotal crossroads in her life and she knew it.

The silence stretched out for several long minutes and Harry was content to let it go on for as long as necessary, even though Fleur and Dora were starting to shift uncomfortably.

It was very much a case of the devil you knew versus the one you didn't for the Black Widow.

Vampirism was the known path towards the immortality that she coveted, but the mere fact that she hadn't taken it up yet meant that she was likely not eager to make the necessary sacrifices.

On the other hand, he represented an unknown path with unkown rewards, but also demanded a significant sacrifice before he would reveal it.

"I am not in the habit of taking risks..." She finally said.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, wordlessly questioning what she thought the past few years of her playing games with him were supposed to be in that case. If she had misjudged him or pushed him too far, he could have killed her or worse at any time.

"But...?" He prompted when she didn't continue.

"But I have to admit that I am terribly curious."

Harry nodded and wordlessly took a small knife and a glass vial from his pockets and laid them on the table between them.

Adrastia stared at the items with clear distaste and didn't move to reach for them. Another lengthy silence stretched on as the dark-skinned witch considered her options once again.

"Will I regret doing this?" She asked after nearly a full ten minutes.

"It's always possible, but I personally doubt it." Harry replied with a shrug.

At long last, she came to a decision and reached for the knife and vial. A small cut on her palm and a trickle of blood filled the glass container.

"We'll continue this in the morning." Harry said as he pocketed the knife and the blood.

"I will be staying the night." Adrastia declared imperiously, but her hands were clenched tightly to keep them from shaking.

"Of course." Harry said. "Luna, could you show Adrastia to her room?" He asked.

"Okay." Luna chirped brightly.

"Damn, I thought for sure that she wouldn't go for it." Dora said with a noisy exhale.

"She didn't even ask what the terms would be." Fleur spoke up, confused.

"Because it wouldn't matter what I said." Harry shook his head. "Not when I'll be holding her life in my hands."

A geas rooted in willingly given blood was as powerful as an Unbreakale Vow and completely under the caster's control. Slavery, basically. Nasty, but Adrastia couldn't really be trusted while she was free.

XXXXX

Tonks gave Fleur a look that meant 'I want to talk to him alone'.

Fleur lifted her chin challengingly as if to say 'you're not having sex without me'.

An exasperated eyeroll told the perpetually horny veela in no uncertain terms that it had nothing to do with sex.

Fleur pouted with exaggerated disappointment, gave Harry a quick kiss and sashayed off in a manner designed to call attention to her hips and arse. It worked too, damn her.

The things a metamorphmagus put up with for love.

Harry looked at her with a warm smile, the kind that he only gave to three people in this world, and Tonks felt a happy glow in her chest.

She let herself be pulled into a cuddle, nose buried into the crook of his neck and her scalp massaged by his deft fingers. His powerful magic seemed to wrap arond her like a cocoon that shut out the world. A cold, hard shell of spikes and jagged edges, but it was comforting because that was just the outside. On the inside...well it wasn't a warm marshmallowy goo, but it was _home_. A place of unquestioning love and support backed with the promise of violence against anything that would threaten it.

It was wonderfully soothing and had a tendency of making even the worst problems feel insignificant.

As the smell of him wafted into her nostrils, her memory drifted to a recent conversation.

 _Harry was brooding again, the way he did when he'd just realised something that he felt he should have figured out a long time ago. He wasn't sporting the thoughtful frown that he had when it was merely something interesting though, but the displeased scowl of having overlooked something important that had tangible consequences._

 _Was it weird that she could read him like this?_

 _"Alright, what has you in such a tizzy this time?" She prompted._

 _Harry responded with a seeming non-sequitur, as he so often did._

 _"Have you ever been up on a broom, before you could fly without one, and had a fleeting wonder about what it would be like to throw yourself off? Or someone else for that matter? Been walking down the street and just known that you could kick someone in front of a bus, or jumped in front of one yourself? Had a thought about the surprised look on a sparring partnert's face if you mixed a lethal curse in with your spells? Held a baby and considered how easy it would be to crush its skull? These things would be less than an impulse or even a fully formed thought, just a split second acknowledgement that you_ could _."_

 _Morbid, but Tonks had heard worse from him._

 _"Yeah..." She admitted, curious more than concerned. It wasn't like she'd ever act on it, so it wasn't that big of a deal. "Doesn't everyone, though?"_

 _"Has it been getting stronger over the past few years?"_

 _This time she had to think about her answer. Uneasily, she realised that it_ had _been getting stronger, significantly so. These kinds of thoughts once breezed by so fast that she barely had time to register them, now they lingered. The change had been so slow and gradual that she hadn't really noticed it until it was pointed out._

 _"...yeah."_

 _"The mundane world has a name for it, 'The Death Drive' or 'The Call of the Void'. They have no idea how appropriate it is."_

 _"Starting to get a little worried." Tonks said in a sing-song voice that belied her nervousness. Nothing good ever came of Harry talking about the Void._

 _"The world is loud." Harry continued softly. "Its many voices drown out the crushing silence of the Void, but small whispers make it through the noise when the circumstances are just right. People without magic are almost completely deaf to it, but we aren't, especially those of us that are killers. The more familiar we are with death, the clearer we hear the call. I thought that Dumbledore was just a stupid pacifist, but now I see why he's really so afraid of killing. The Elder Wand must also frighten him terribly."_

 _"What are you saying?" Tonks asked neutrally._

 _Harry stepped forward and gave her a hug. "The Void is a part of me and I've learned to live with the constant thoughts of causing death just for the sake of causing death popping up in my head. It's become so normal for me that I forgot what it was like to live without it. I'm sorry, Dora. I didn't consider what killing would do to you."_

 _Tonks wasn't sure what she should be feeling. Angry? Scared? Harry had led her down a much darker path in life than she would have chosen for herself and she scarcely resembled the idealistic young Auror she had been when they first met...but it all just seemed so unimportant when he held her like this._

 _"It's fine." She mumbled, snuggling deeper into the hug. "It's not like you forced me to do anything and it really hasn't been that hard to ignore."_

 _"I wouldn't advise ignoring it." Harry cautioned. "It's like a persistent itch and will only fester if you try to push it into some dark corner of your mind. Trust me, I know. To quote Yoda, 'once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny'."_

 _Tonks snorted, remembering how he used to steal quotes from the little green toad of Star Wars and put on airs while teaching. Her amusement was short-lived though, because what he said scared her. "What should I do then?"_

 _"The first thing is to not be afraid."_

 _"I'm not afraid." Tonks muttered sulkily._

 _Harry ignored the obvious lie and continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Despite my referencing, the Void is not like the Dark Side. It won't echo your feelings back to you and magnifiy them, nor does it have a corrupting influence or the power to subvert your will. The Void merely is, it has always been and always will be. Familiarity with death has brought you closer to it, but it has not and will not change you. Accept that you are not diminished in any way for being closer to death. I still love you just as much even if I sometimes think of how easy it would be to break your neck or strangle you while we're having sex."_

 _"So_ that's _what that weird intense look you give me sometimes is." Tonks joked._

 _"Yes." Harry replied dryly. "And this brings us to the last bit. Life-affirming actions such as humor, positive social contact, having fun and so on will disperse the dread living things naturally associate with death and the Void...as long as you don't try to separate the two. I think Dumbledore tries to fight his fears by being overly compassionate, but that's exactly the problem – he's trying to fight what can't be fought. Riddle is even worse, all he does is try to run from something that's always closing in from all sides."_

 _Tonks nodded in acceptance. Her first instinct was still to try shoving it all into a corner and pretending it didn't exist, but she trusted Harry. He loved her and would always be there for her and that instantly made everything much less scary._

She inhaled deeply as the memory played out in her mind, taking in the scent of his neck. His soft, vulnerable neck. If she morphed her teeth into something sharp and pointy, she could tear out his throat before he could react.

Not long ago, that thought would have made her leave the embrace or start talking in an effort to put it behind her, but now she deliberately stayed where she was and nibbled gently on his skin.

"If you're hungry I've got a sausage in my pants." Harry spoke up dryly.

"Hmm..." Tonks pretended to consider it. "I think I'll pass."

"Then don't go waking it up, woman." He grumbled.

"You'll be sticking it into Zabini soon anyway."

Tonks hoped that she didn't sound too disapproving or bitter. It wasn't even that she resented him sleeping around – there had been plenty of time to get used to the idea of being free to fuck whoever they wanted, especially since they kept the true intimacy between the four of them.

Her real problem was that she just didn't like Adrastia Zabini. The smug woman and her had gotten off to a bad start and things had stayed bad. That she was also an unrepentant serial killer had somehow become a good bit less important over the years.

"That's true." Harry acknowledged, pointedly ignoring her tone.

Tonks decided to change the subject. "I guess you won't be telling her to stop being the Black Widow?"

"That's what makes her useful."

"Innocent people will die."

"Nobody we know."

Tonks huffed at the predictable reply. He could be so frustrating to deal with.

"Can't you at least tell her to target the more unpleasant sorts?"

"I guess." Harry shrugged.

Tonks knew that was the best she was going to get. It said a lot about how much she'd changed that she was willing to take it. She wasn't an idealistic young Auror anymore, even though she still strived to do the right thing. The 'right thing' had so often been bloody and vicious in recent years that moral outrage was getting harder and harder to muster, especially since she had castrated a few dozen Death Eaters herself our of pure vindictiveness.

Having such a strong support group that never judged her was also rather dangerously addictive. How was she supposed to feel sorry for anything when they accepted her so completely? How was she supposed to be upset with them when the light of their souls drowned out all external concerns?

In truth, Tonks was mostly just being the voice of righteousness in the group out of habit and because she felt that someone should be.

XXXXX

Adrastia lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The balcony doors were wide open and allowed a pleasantly cool breeze to blow across her naked body while she reflected on recent events.

She had sold her freedom to a teenager. How absurd it sounded when put like that. Years ago, she wouldn't have even considered it, but time weighed heavily on her thoughts now.

Adrastia knew that she didn't have the kind of intelligence required to become a witch that could destroy her enemies with devastating spells or create great works of enchantment. In fact, her mediocre academic prowess had been a contributing factor to the much hated first marriage her father had forced her into. She'd always been more interested in hanging out with her friends than studying and the old bastard had written her off as useless and started thinking of her as a commodity to be traded because of it.

Arithmancy had never made much sense to her, the visualisation required for Transfiguration was a struggle, her potions were nothing to get excited about and her other spellwork was barely above average. Despite all this, she was very far from stupid – it was just that her talents were elsewhere. Social dynamics, emotional manipulation and seduction came as easy as breathing, and so did the subtle magics associated with them once she learned how to use them.

Using those skills to kill her husband, father and then running both of their vaunted legacies into the ground by frittering away their gold on frivolities that she knew they would have hated remained one of her fondest memories to this day. Revenge had been sweet. Her unwanted son was all that remained from that dark period of her life, having been unable to bring herself to dispose of him as well, but it didn't matter. He had never been told anything of his father and would inherit nothing.

The years since gaining her freedom had been good, living a life of luxury with money that she didn't have to work for, meeting interesting new people, adding another notch to her reputation as a Black Widow if they were interesting enough, other times just bewitching them and leaving them alive in case she needed them in the future, wrecking a marriage for fun here and there and perfecting the skills that allowed those pursuits the whole time.

But all good things had to come to an end, or so people claimed. The problem was that Adrastia did not want the good times to end anytime soon. At thirty-four years old, she was keenly aware that her great beauty would soon begin to spoil like overripe fruit and that was simply unacceptable. In many ways, the slow decay of old age and its myriad of associated unpleasantries would be a fate worse than death for her. Finding a way to avoid that had become an increasingly urgent issue over the past few years. Some women got baby rabies, Adrastia preferred to stay young.

Vampirism had presented one possibility, but a far from ideal one. Being subordinate to her sire and having to hide in the darkness forevermore, forsaking many of the pleasures she now enjoyed, was not a terribly appealing prospect. Worse still, she did not much like the vampire that had offered to turn her. Not that she exactly _disliked_ him either, but he just showed so little personality and Adrasta was deeply uncomfortable not knowing how people might react, especially people that may be in a position to control her life in any way.

On the other hand, there was Harry Potter. Tempting, powerful, handsome, _dangerous_ Harry. Oh, how she longed to feel him bucking beneath her in captive rapture, his member pulsing as it spurted its seed inside her, giving himself up to her in tiny pieces.

Despite her original intention of keeping him as nothing more than a cautious ally and associate, Adrastia couldn't help herself from playing and teasing and probing for a weakness. He was just so interesting and unforgivably masculine. It pushed all of her buttons and she wanted to make him hers.

"How our fortunes turn." She chuckled to herself with a disappointed little sigh, more amused than bitter. Every game had a winner and a loser after all. It was unfortunate that she was the loser of course, but it made no sense to be angry at Harry for being able to tempt her into selling her freedom, not when she'd been trying to do the same thing to him.

Luckily, Harry lacked the same malice that she had. He was not a nice man, but he was not a cruel one either. The little Legilimency spar she'd lost against him months ago had rattled her to be sure, but that was merely a reflexive reaction. Upon further thought, she had concluded that Harry was unlikely to abuse any power he had over her the way that she would have. Certain indignities would have to be endured no doubt, but nothing too terrible. Probably.

It was, admittedly, a calculated gamble at best and a foolish risk at worst. She might have misread him and there was no guarantee that Harry's unknown prize would be her heart's desire. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part, but what else would be of equal or greater value to immortality via vampirism if not another form of immortality? What else would he hide so jealously? In any case, time was running out and she was out of easy choices. Getting old was unacceptable and vampirism only slightly better, so she had decided to bet on Harry's honor.

After he bound her, he would come to assert his dominance in a more physical fashion and she would submit willingly. If his offered prize was not immortality, then she would subtly nudge him towards that goal. With his skills, it should be well within the realms of possibility and if it came to that then it would hopefully not take more than a few years. Topping from the bottom was nothing new to her, it was in fact how her conquests often started. Men were often so busy feeling in control that they failed to realise that they weren't until they found themselves licking her boots and wondering how they got there. Of course, this time her submission would be real and absolute, but she would not be completely powerless.

Her wandering thoughts stilled and her body tensed in preparation as she felt a powerful spell begin to take shape, originating from within her own blood and magic. A sensation like countless tiny hooks digging into her flesh passed through her as the geas took effect.

She shuddered as the horrible feeling faded into the background, but remained at the very edges of her perception. That was that then, her freedom was gone. No power on this world would break that geas unless she could find and destroy whatever vessel her blood had been infused into, and she couldn't do that herself as that would mean going against the geas.

The door opened about ten minutes later, admitting the primary subject of her thoughts. He had a freshly-showered look to him and wore only a loosely tied dark silk robe.

"Come to have your way with me, my master?" Adrastia asked with mocking obsequiousness, making no effort to cover herself. Shame and modesty had been discarded a long time ago.

"There's no need to be snide." Harry replied amusedly as he approached and sat down next to her, tossing the robe off on the way.

From a purely physical perspective, she certainly had no complaints. 6'3'', with silky night-black hair falling just below his shoulders, a handsome face despite the scarring and those intensely bright green eyes that she had always thought were far too pretty to belong to a man.

The rest of him was just as delicious. A visibly muscled abdomen, although it still retained enough softness to tell her that he didn't exercise it excessively. That was still far more than most wizards did. His chest had much more prominent musculature that betrayed significant and regular upper body exertion. The rune scars spread over it and peeking from under the hair also gave it a certain exoticism. His scarred arms were also very well developed and again betrayed some kind of regular heavy physical exertion.

And between his legs hung the part of him that she'd been the most curious about. Very nice, well above average length and thickness without straying into ridiculous territory. Nothing to complain about there either.

All in all, with his phsysical appearance and power combined, Adrastia easily classified Harry as the most attractive man she'd ever met, which was quite redundant now that she thought about it. It wasn't as if she would have ever settled for anything less than the best.

"But have you?" She asked, bending her legs and opening them invitingly to reveal her glistening sex.

"Do you want me to?" He asked back with a smirk, placing one hand on her knee and sliding it down her thigh.

Adrastia felt a renewed rush of confidence and triumph at the question, hearing the unspoken assurance in it that he wouldn't take her by force even though he could now do so with impunity. She had already assumed that would be the case, but it was good to have it confirmed.

"You know how I feel about you, Harry." She said in her most sultry tones.

"Do I really?" He asked, amused. "Why don't you tell me just to be sure?"

"I've wanted you since the first time I saw you." She said, staring at him lustfully. She meant to stop there, but the geas rose up within her, promising punishment for lying to its caster even by omission, so she continued. "I wanted you to fill my womb with your seed and leave parts of yourself behind every time. I wanted you to whisper your secrets and fears to me, so that I could forge them into a chain that bound you to me forever."

Even now the thought of it had her moistening in preparation. She looked at Harry challengingly, wondering at his reaction now that the full truth had been forced out of her.

He looked back down at her with so many questions in his eyes.

"Teach me."

Adrastia propped herself up on her elbows and gave him an amused smile. "It isn't really something that a man can learn."

His response was to kiss her hard and push her back down on the bed. She returned it eagerly and moaned into his mouth when his hand slid down her stomach to stroke her sex.

When he let up, his eyes were still intent. "Explain to me how what you do differs from the regular Joining. Walk me through it."

"Very well." She acquiesced and he leaned back down, this time applying his lips to her neck. His fingers continued to stimulate her groin. "The Joining links people together, allowing emotions to bleed through and affecting personality with long term use, especially if one party is unaware of themselves or has significantly lesser strength of soul, yes?"

"Mhm." Harry hummed, busy nibbling on a nipple.

"Men and women have different instincts." Adrastia said, biting her lip. He really knew what he was doing.

"Hmm?" Harry hummed questioningly, moving to the other nipple.

"Women are in general...mmm... more inclined towards narcissism, selfishness, hedonism and...ah...are far more likely to value short-term comfort over long-term benefit than men. We are also prone to avoiding risks or getting men to take the risks for us if possible." She explained, starting to have some difficulty focusing.

Harry stopped and looked at her thoughtfully. "How do you figure that?"

"Natural selection." She said quickly, hoping that he was familiar with the theory and that he would go back to doing what he'd been doing earlier instead of asking her to elaborate. Most wizards wouldn't be, but he was not most wizards.

Fortunately her guess was spot on and he just nodded slowly. "I guess I can see that. Natural selection _would_ favor women who played it safe and prioritised themselves and their children over everything else."

Harry went back to focusing on her body and she sighed in pleasure.

"Conversely, men _needed_ to take risks. They have been the providers and protectors since the dawn of our species and have always had to compete with each other to sire children, so they are...mmm...on average far more assertive, proactive and have a much less conservative definition of 'acceptable suffering' when pursuing a goal. In short, they intrinsically value themselves less than women, because they are more expendable from an evolutionary standpoint and deep down, they know it."

Harry made a noise of agreement as he repositioned himself between her legs.

Adrastia let out an anticipatory breath and continued. "This is why men are the primary drivers of civilisation and why they are, on average, better suited to roles of leadership and other dangerous undertakings, physical advantages notwithstanding. It is also what gives the false impression that they do not value women when nothing could be further from the truth."

Harry stilled and looked up at her with a raised eyebrow, clearly asking for elaboration.

Adrastia squirmed, eager to feel his tongue on her lower lips, so she continued quicly. "Throughout the course of history men may have mocked women, dismissed our intelligence, played up our weakness and in general done everything possible to keep us from making our own decisions and despite appearance to the contrary, it was all done _because_ we were valued. To allow women to act on our own volition was to allow us to take risks, and risking women is the same as risking the survival of the species, or the continuation of one's own bloodline if we think on a smaller scale. Always, if the women that men have considered 'theirs' are threatened, violence is the instinctive first response and violence is the riskiest of all actions. That is not how you respond over something that isn't valued."

"An interesting thought." Harry said thoughtfully and she wondered if he was thinking of what he would do in defense of his own women. "And the reproductive value of women can't be denied, but how does this tie in to your little hobby?" he asked and dived in to drag his tongue along her sex.

Adrastia inhaled sharply and closed her eyes in enjoyment. Harry was _really_ good at this. Better than anyone she'd ever had down there by quite a wide margin.

"Well?" He prompted when she didn't speak for a few seconds.

"Look beyond the superficial trifles, comforts and social constructs of the modern age and...ah...you see that our species as a whole is still ruled by its instincts just as much as it has ever been. Lacking the physical power of men, women evolved in a...hn...different direction. We are natural manipulators, instinctively knowing how to use our beauty and unthreatening appearance to draw in...mmmm...the best possible mate by inciting competition among men for our favor and how to use validation, guilt, sex, shame and distress to get men to do what we want once we have them." She said, eyes still closed as she grabbed her breasts and began fondling them in time with his licking. "I just took it a few steps further."

Adrastia stopped again as she felt Harry working some sort of magic between her legs. She had no idea what it was, but it was safe to guess that it was sex related.

Soon, the spell was finished and he immediately began flicking her clitoris around with his tongue.

Adrastia bit her lip to choke down the cry of pleasure that nearly escaped her throat, but she couldn't stop her hips from bucking into him needily. He was cheating, using magic to magnify sensation.

"Keep talking, and don't skip the details." Harry ordered and continued the sweet torture.

So she did. She told him all about how she used her beauty, sensuality, confidence and the image of high status portrayed by obvious wealth to attract male attention, how she used their biological drive to chase women to trap them, how she twisted their instinct to protect women into a slavish devotion, how she exploited their inbuilt desire to please and curry favor with the potential mother of their children to alienate them from their friends and family, how she teased out their insecurities with feigned compassion and then used that knowledge to prey on their fears, how she chipped away at their confidence by subtly insinuating that she was unsatisfied with them, how she loaded them down with guilt by implying that it was their fault for not being good enough, how she eroded their wills by undermining their sense of self-worth, how she perverted their need for female validation until they were thankful for the abuse and humiliation she gave them and when they were nothing more than pale shadows of what they used to be, how she gave them one last smile as they died and drank in the pitiful relief that shone in their eyes at seeing it. She told him everything that she otherwise kept hidden beneath the playful, flirty, _harmless_ persona of a wealthy woman that had no goals without a man at her side.

It took nearly a full hour to say everything because Harry spent the whole time between her legs and his spell kept her suspended on the edge of orgasm. Talking was understandably interspersed with a lot of gasping and pausing as she struggled to stay on topic, made worse because thinking about her past conquests only drove her arousal higher.

When she was finally done explaining, Harry pinched her clitoris between his lips and Adrastia couldn't stop herself from screaming in pleasure as the orgasm exploded out of her with a violent eruption of fluids.

He didn't stop even then, lapping up her discharge eagerly. The overstimulation bordered on painful and had definitely become unpleasant, but all she could do was mewl pitifully in protest while her limbs trembled uncontrollably.

Finally he pulled away and Adrastia breathed a sigh of relief, staring at the ceiling in a daze. She was short of breath, soaked in sweat and still feeling a bit loopy after experiencing the most powerful orgasm of her life by far.

It wasn't long before Harry returned, settling on top of her and wedging his hips between her still shaky legs. Feeling his hard shaft pressing against her raw sex, Adrastia belatedly realised that his needs hadn't been taken care of at all and that she wouldn't be getting any rest until they were.

She looked into his oh-so-green eyes and saw the intent gleam in them. His face and hair looked like it had recently been wet and wiped, more likely from her discharge than from sweat.

"The theory was definitely interesting, now give me the practical." He ordered.

Adrastia smiled at him alluringly, although she was aware that it probably came out more tired than she'd like. With some effort, she hooked her not-entirely-cooperative legs behind his knees and reached down to grab his member.

She gave it an exploratory stroke and lined it up with her opening. He plunged in without hesitation, hilting himself in her completely in the first thrust. Thankfully, she was wetter than she'd ever been or that would have been quite painful.

Adrastia sighed at the pleasure of being filled. Her nerves were still a bit raw from the orgasm, but this she could enjoy.

"Show me." Harry commanded again, punctuating the order by pulling out and thrusting back in.

That snapped her out of the near doze she'd fallen into without realising it.

"As you wish." Adrastia acquiesced and reached out with her magic to probe at him.

He was strong, so much stronger than anyone she'd ever had. And aware, she could sense him paying closer attention to the spiritual part of their union than the physical, staying still inside her instead of thrusting away like every other man. Had she still been trying to enthrall him, it would have been quite challenging to slip her meddling past him and likely taken years of regular sex to achieve.

Adrastia did not push her magic forward and mingle it with his in a standard Joining, she called to him with a siren song that reached past his aura, past his waking mind, past his emotions and the subconscious personality traits learned over the course of his life, deep into the very bedrock of his body and soul, to the pull of instinct, the primal need.

Her magic whispered promises of what a perfect mate she was, promises of the many strong children she would give him. All he had to do was pump away and fill her with his seed, again and again and again until she was pregnant and then protect and provide for her.

Since she was not actually trying to enthrall him, she didn't bother being subtle and tugged on his instincts brazenly and with all the power she could bring to bear. A forceful approach in a situation where force was counter-productive, so the geas didn't react.

Linked as closely as they were, Adrastia felt him smirk as much as she saw the expression form on his face, right before he began thrusting into her slow but powerful motions. Beneath the physical, he pushed his magic into her just as aggressively.

Adrastia gasped as his presence filled her, so much greater and more powerful than her own. More aggressive as well. He was pressing deep inside her, to the base female instinct to find the strongest possible mate to breed with, promising protection and strong children, all she had to do was submit to him completely.

He had learned and attempted to adapt what she'd showed him in an astonishingly short time, that she would admit freely, but this was still fundamentally flawed. The instinct to take care of one's mate was an instrinsic part of a man's nature, but women were not so burdened. The only instinct they had in that direction was to take care of themselves and their children.

Most likely he had been thinking of that submissive mistress of his that she'd seen once in his mind when he thought to try this. Not unexpected, but quite mistaken. Even a woman like that was only submissive to him for her own pleasure, not his.

To his credit, Harry seemed to realise that he was trying to influence something that simply wasn't there and abandoned the effort. With a final series of thrusts, Adrastia felt his warm seed spilling into her, accompanied by a decidedly male sense of victorious satisfaction.

 _Like planting a flag on a conquered fortress._ She thought with amusement. She'd yet to encounter a single man that didn't experience that feeling on some level when they came in her, although it was particularly powerful in Harry's case. _Of course, every other time it was a trap. This time I really have been conquered, or talked into surrendering at least._

Regardless, she still gave Harry the final part of her 'practical demonstration'. As his member pulsed inside her, she met his animal sense of satisfaction at fulfilling his biological purpose with her own. Even if _she_ didn't want children, her body did and that was what she sent to him.

When it was over, they stilled and Adrastia could almost feel him mentally dissecting her technique.

"Satisfied?" She asked with a tired smile, arching an eyebrow up at him.

"It was...educational." He replied with a small grin. "This actually works?"

"Instinct is not absolute, but it is an inescapable part of our being. With the right knowledge, skill and subtlety, it can be used to twist people to your own ends, even without magic."

"Hmmm." He hummed noncommittally. "That's pretty scary, and completely skewed in favor of women."

"We each have our strengths and weaknesses." She shrugged, at least as much as she was able with him still on top of and inside her. Then she smirked up at him wickedly. "Men have won the evolutionary lottery on nearly everything, so it is only to be expected that women evolved to make you use all those strengths for us."

Harry replied by seizing her mouth in a kiss, although it was more accurately described as an assault on her mouth. Typical man, answering challenges with force. Still, she responded eagerly and let him do as he wished. He was just defeating himself after all.

The geas buzzed at her thoughts, but reacted no further than that since she wasn't actually doing anything.

Harry disengaged soon enough and looked down at her archly. "You're being awful smug, considering that you're basically saying that women are whores by nature."

"Prostitution is the world's oldest profession for a reason." She riposted mockingly. Sex had always been a woman's greatest weapon and there was no shame in using it. Besides, the difference between the pitiful creatures selling their bodies for peanuts on street corners and her was so vast that the comparison was almost meaningless.

"Point." He conceded with amusement, giving her another brief kiss and pulling away. "Thanks for the lesson, we'll have to schedule another some day."

"Anytime." Adrastia groaned out sexily, stretching luxuriously now that he wasn't pinning her down anymore and deliberately making a big show of it. She felt the heat of his gaze on her body even though her eyes were closed.

Men were very visual creatures and _seeing_ that they'd done a good job did wonders for their self-esteem, especially when it concerned their biological imperative with women. Although entirely non-magical, it was actually one of her better tools of manipulation.

Indirectness was of paramount importance in any manipulation. Telling people something meant that they first had to trust you to believe it and respect you to value it, whereas giving subtle indications of it would float the notion into their subconscious from within. Truly convincing a person of anything at all was very difficult if not outright impossible, but guiding their thoughts so that they convinced themselves? That was another story.

That Harry actually _had_ done a good job and she didn't have to fake satisfaction for a change was entirely irrelevant.

"Is that so?" He asked with smug amusement.

And there it was. The male self-pride at having thoroughly fucked a woman.

"Of course, my master." She purred, opening her eyes halfway to give him a seductive half-lidded look. "I am always at your disposal."

He would be suspicious if she suddenly became meek and obedient, so mockery was a good cover.

Adrastia had to stop herself from frowning as the geas buzzed warningly in the back of her head again. That was going to get old in a hurry.

"I'm sure." Harry replied dryly. "Breakfast is at seven in the morning if you want it."

"Too early." Adrastia stretched and groaned again, although the groan was a bit more grumpy this time. Then she turned on her side to regard him, propping her head up on her elbow and displaying her breasts.

Her attention was drawn to his returned erection, which was once again at full mast. That was certainly quick, and it explained how he kept three women satisfied. Well, that and his truly impressive skill at licking pussy. She was still tingling down below.

"Second breakfast is usually somewhere between nine and eleven." Harry smirked at her. No doubt he'd noticed her shameless staring at his cock. Yet another typical male weakness, this silly pride they had in their equipment.

Adrastia raised her eyes to his and looked at him strangely. "What are you, a hobbit?"

"Fleur and I rise with the Sun. Dora and Luna like to sleep in. Thus, second breakfast became a thing."

"I see."

"Good night."

"Good night."

The door clicked shut behind Harry and Adrastia was left alone in the room once again.

With a sigh, she lay back down and closed her eyes again, feeling relieved that he hadn't wanted another go. Good as it had felt, that overpowered orgasm had taken a lot out of her.

Still, Adrastia smiled. Things were actually going a little better than expected. A slave she might be in truth, but she had read Harry correctly. As long as she was careful to not overstep herself and truly anger him, her freedom would be only minimally restricted.

And perhaps more importantly, the game was still on. Oh, she would never be able to bring Harry as low as she might have wished, but placing herself in his servitude meant that his great power would be used to shield her. That he would be expecting her to keep scheming after everything she'd told him just now was largely irrelevant and may actually serve to _lower_ his guard since he was in a position of absolute power, but there was more than one kind of power.

She would make herself indispensible to him and benefit from his strength and resources, which was really no different than the historical relationship between a man and a woman. The only real difference was that the service she would be providing wouldn't be the use of her womb.

It was good that he had other women for that. Had he been single, Adrastia wasn't sure if she would have entered into this arrangement. The last thing she wanted was for him to get any ideas about impregnating her somewhere down the line.

Which reminded her...

She reached between her legs and dug her fingers into her vaginal canal, feeling Harry's thick sperm slowly oozing out of it. She brought her now stained fingers in front of her face and rubbed them together, squelching the viscous white goop between them.

"Oh, if only." Adrastia murmured to herself mournfully.

A relatively uncomplicated Sex Magic ritual and she could fill Harry's dreams with steamy visions of herself, cause him uncontrollable arousal at the sight of her, prevent him from finding release with any other woman or even through masturbation and punish him if he tried. That would be a special sort of hell for someone with a libido like his.

But it would have stayed nothing more than an idle daydream even without the geas that now bound her. There were simply too many risks. For one thing, he would immediately sense what she'd done just like she had sensed his geas taking hold of her. That was why she only used this on non-magical men who couldn't sense it.

Next were those three witches of his, all of them far more directly powerful than she was. Even if Harry was disabled, they would kill her on his behalf and free him.

Even if that hadn't been a factor, Harry himself might have been able to overcome such a geas through sheer willpower. Semen only governed a man's sexuality and reproductive functions after all, not their life like blood did. Then she would be faced with a very powerful, very angry and very horny wizard. A quick and clean death would be the best she could hope for in that case, but was unlikely to get it.

Adrastia wiped her fingers on the already thoroughly soiled sheets with a regretful sigh, giving up on the pleasant fantasy of having Harry beg for the privilege of touching her. A fantasy was all it would ever be.

XXXXX

Harry didn't go to the master bedroom immediately – even if theirs was an open relationship, coming back covered in another woman's dried sexual release was terribly crass. He took another shower instead and indulged in the time-honored tradition of shower introspection.

Finally fucking Adrastia had been incredibly satisfying. Not because she was a good lay – he hadn't actually gotten to test her skill...this time – but for the rush of power he got from dominating her.

He wasn't even going to try justifying his feelings, the visceral satisfaction having her pinned beneath him as he filled her up and knowing that he could now do it whenever he wanted, however he wanted and she couldn't really refuse or turn it around on him.

But making her submit to him in word and action wasn't what he was most interested in. What he really wanted was for her to submit in spirit and do it willingly.

It was not a nice thing to do by any stretch. Harry might not _feel_ that it wasn't nice, but he knew it. He also didn't care.

If there had ever been an appropriate target for those urges, Adrastia was it. She was a creature of terrible impulses just like him. The arousal, lust and even pride in her voice as she described what she did to her victims was proof enough of that. It was also a bit of a turn on if he was being honest.

He was looking forward to seeing if he could turn such a proud monster into his happy little fuckpet without cheating via soul manipulation or breaking her will. Of course, trying to tame her gently would no doubt be a long, _long_ game. That was good, a man needed hobbies if he was going to be immortal.

She would resist of course and that was also good. It wouldn't be any fun if it was too easy. Conniving spider that she was, there was no doubt that she had plans to exert some form of power even from her indisputably subordinate position. He _had_ been listening while she was explaining her methods.

Perhaps she was intending to outlast him, counting on the power of her vagina to generate fondness for her over time? Not a bad plan, admittedly. It was pretty hard to fuck someone for an extended period of time and not become at least a little fond of them, excluding situations where genuine hate was involved.

Harry wondered if Adrastia was as happy to have someone to play with as he was.

Was it any wonder that the two of them had circled around each other like hungry tigers for the past few years? It would have been smart to back off and keep a distance between them, the way dangerous people usually quietly agreed to do when they weren't enemies, but they were both too interested in the dangerous game between them to leave well enough alone. She could have kept things impersonal and Harry could have told her to back off at any time, but neither of them did that.

Ah, but it wasn't all play. He had learned an intereting thing from Adrastia just now. The pull of instinct was hardly foreign to him, but he had never thought of it from the angle that she did.

He could see potential new avenues of research, study and experimentation now. All the good stuff.

Once he was done showering (and thinking), he made his way to the master bedroom.

The girls had been busy while he was otherwise engaged. Dora was currently on her back with her legs spread while Fleur and Luna each lay one one side of her, using hands and mouths to tease more than please. They seem to have been waiting for him.

Harry smiled. He was fortunate to have such wonderful lovers. They had almost certainly prevented him from becoming _too_ much of a monster.

"How was she?" Fleur asked almost immediately, her voice full of humor.

"Interesting." Harry replied, his eyes drawn to Dora's wide open legs. "It's probably easier if I just show you."

Touching their basest instincs like that was certainly not going to dissuade them from their plans of having children once Voldemort was done for, but what can you do? Harry had already become somewhat desensitised to the trepidation that the prospect of fatherhood instilled because of little Arielle and figured that getting women pregnant was the same as everything else – it got easier with practice.

XXXXX

The following morning, the five of them were once again gathered together in the cháteau's private sitting room, Harry and the girls sitting together on a couch and Adrastia across from them in an armchair.

Harry placed a vial on the coffee table sitting between them. It was filled it a colorless liquid that somehow managed to be simultaneously clear and opaque, a contradiction that only magic could mash together.

"And what is this?" Adrastia asked curiously, holding the vial up to her eyes and turning it around as if that would reveal its secrets.

"Elixir of Life." Harry said simply.

Adrastia froze for a moment and then a smile bloomed on her face.

Harry and the girls were taken aback at how _genuine_ the expression was. One could almost forget that this woman was a serial killer with a mile wide streak of emotional sadism when she smiled like that.

"More than six hundred years ago, Nicholas Flamel made the worst mistake of his life when he boasted about his success in creating the Philosopher's Stone." She said softly, turning to look at Harry with a more familiar amused expression. "I must admit that it is gratifying to see that you are wiser than that. For a prize like this, I will serve you gladly."

"A word of warning about the Elixir before you drink it..."

"Yes?" Adrastia asked uncertainly.

"It's incredibly addicting." He said simply. "The first dose will make you feel like you got hit by lightning, in a good way. The intensity fades within minutes, but you'll always know when your body is juiced up on the Elixir, and if you don't take it regularly you'll start experiencing withdrawal symptoms from hell."

Harry should know, having gone through it himself, in the name of science of course. He'd tested it on rats first, then on a captured Death Eater and finally on himself when he felt that he'd learned all he could from observation.

Fleur and Dora had not been amused to find out that he'd used himself as a guinea pig, but couldn't really protest too much to him beginning to take the Elixir since his body was in its prime right now. It would have been different it he was actually as old as his date of birth suggested, but with the accelerated maturation due to his runes and all the time he'd spent in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber recently, he was closer to twenty-one than to eighteen and his body's physical development was probably somewhere around twenty-five.

"I don't see the problem with that as long as you continue to supply me with it." Adrastia shrugged and quickly downed the Elixir.

She immediately went through a full body shudder and a downright lewd moan slipped from her throat.

"Oh my." She breathed, looking at him with eyes that sparkled with life. "You weren't kidding. How long will this dose last me?"

"I'd give it about a month and a half, give or take a week. It depends on how active you are."

"Can't I just take more, let's say enough to last me a few years?"

"Only if you want to spontaneously combust. Too much life force is bad for you." Harry explained wryly, smirking at Adrastia's surprised blink.

"Poor Horatio. He didn't deserve to die like that." Luna said somberly.

"They're called lab rats for a reason, the same reason that I told you not to name them, coincidentally." Harry rolled his eyes.

"How heartless!" Adrastia gasped theatrically, holding a hand to her breast and smirking. She was obviously in a grand mood.

"Yes, quite." He drolled in response. "But enough about the tragedy of Horatio. I'm sure you'd like to know why you were offered the Elixir in the first place?"

"You wanted to add some color to your harem?" She asked. Her tone was innocent and breathy like some kind of earnest young intern, but her eyes smouldered with carnal promises. "I will not disappoint you."

Harry very deliberately did not shift in place as his body responded. Adrastia made the veela's seduction game seem as subtle as a battering ram in comparison. Too much reliance on the Allure versus natural talent and learned skill no doubt. Although thinking of the veela did give him an idea...

"You should arrange for an appointment with Fleur's grandmother then, I'm sure she'll have you trained up to snuff as a proper concubine in no time." He said blithely, taking perverse enjoyment in the flash of indignation that passed through her eyes. "But no, that's not why you were offered this bargain."

"Do tell." She said, somewhat less playfully.

"Basically, we need a spymistress." Harry said bluntly. "Our intelligence gathering ability outside of Spellhaven is more limited than I'm comfortable with and you seem well connected. I want to know if the magical governments of the world are thinking of doing anything stupid and I'd especially like to know what the hell Bjomolf and his fellow bloodsuckers are playing at."

"That is a role I could certainly fulfill." Adrastia said thoughtfully. "Although I think you may be overestimating what I know of the vampires and their plots."

"We'll see." He said simply. "Let's start with where we left off yesterday. What is your personal theory for Bjomolf's sudden burst of helpfulness?"

"I would say that he is most likely trying to get your attention. As I said before, it is unlike him to be this obvious. _Why_ he wants to get your attention and why he is doing it in this particular manner I could not guess at."

"Hmm." Harry nodded. "Who is Goran Gojkov?"

Adrastia was startled by that. "Now how did you come across _that_ name?"

"Interrogating Death Eaters. Seems like some mysterious third party hired him to help with Voldemort's resurrection and then he stuck around to train the Death Eaters for a while after that."

"That is...unexpected." She said carefully. "Goran is one of the more competent, but lesser known, wizard mercenaries in the world. I have employed him once myself, as I believe I mentioned to you years ago, and I know that the vampires sometimes use him as well."

"So, why would Bjomolf help Voldemort get his feet under him again and then turn around and help me take him down?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Adrastia shrugged. "The only insight I can give you is that Bjomolf does not really do anything short-term. Whatever plan this is supposed to further was likely conceived decades before we were born and might very well not come to fruition for decades more. The only clear certainty is that you play some part in it."

"Couldn't we simply ignore him?" Fleur asked.

"It isn't that straightforward." Adrastia shook her head. "Bjomolf is an extremely good judge of character, able to accurately discern people's personalities, motivations and likely actions with only brief interactions and even from second-hand accounts. The first time I met him, he already had me mostly figured out. He might know that you will eventually be forced to take the bait no matter what and is setting it out early to give himself an advantage when it does happen. He might be counting on you to refuse and is using it as a distraction or a means of guiding you to where he really wants you to go. It could even be both at the same time and you will end up playing into his hands no matter which option you choose."

Harry blew air out of his nose noisily. "What an irritating person to deal with."

Adrastia cracked a smile. "That he is."

"What would you do in my shoes then?"

"Most likely I would just confront him directly." She shrugged again. "However unusual his behavior towards you is, he is not in the habit of making dangerous enemies unless absolutely necessary. It is unlikely that you will be in any immediate danger. I could set up a meeting for you if you wish?"

"Let's hold off on that for now." Harry declined.

"Very well, is there anything else you wish of me?" Adrastia asked, smiling suggestively.

"A full report on your own sources of information and areas of influence. For now, just summarise it for me."

"How dull." Adrastia pouted playfully. "I have just over a hundred men with their libidos enthralled to me scattered all over the world, although most of them are concentrated in Europe and the Americas. I have mostly used them to collect rumors or to act as pawns and scapegoats. They are now at your disposal of course, but if I am to be your spymistress I will need to take some time to reorganise them. Not to mention do a little...recruiting."

"Is it wrong that I'm kind of impressed?" Fleur muttered.

Tonks clenched her jaw at the amused smirk on Adrastia's face. Damn but this woman irritated her.

"Yeah, about that..." She spoke up.

"Yes, Nymphadora?" Adrastia's amusement only seemed to increase.

Tonks wanted to snap at the woman to not call her that, but that somehow felt like handing her a victory.

"If you're going do to some 'recruiting', then focus on the arseholes first."

"You will have to be a little more specific, Nymphadora." Adrastia retorted playfully. "I'm afraid that all men are more or less the same to me. Except Harry of course. He is _special_."

Tonks glowered.

"Easy there, she's just winding you up." Harry said, patting her hand. On her other side, Luna cuddled up to her and the irritation guttered out quickly.

"And you can stop being deliberately obtuse." Harry said pointedly to Adrastia. "You know damn well what she was saying."

"I suppose." Adrastia sighed in a put upon manner. "Very well, I will try to target the less genial men first. They are often more fun anyway."

"And stay away from the married ones." Tonks added.

"Now you are just being unreasonable." Adrastia scoffed. "Do you have any idea how few men are still single by the time they get anywhere useful in life?"

"Let her do things her way, Dora." Harry interjected. "Micromanaging her will just make her useless."

"But we can't just let her go around destroying marriages for our gain." Tonks protested with a frown.

"Not to worry, most marriages end up destroying the people trapped in them anyway." Adrastia reassured. "Giving the men in them something to pine for improves their lives more often than not."

There was much skepticism to be had in response to this narcissistic statement.

"Right..." Harry said, deciding to move forward. "In any case, I'll be waiting for that report and you can expect me to send you a list of places I'd like you to infiltrate once I've gone over it."

"I wonder if this is what having a pimp feels like?" Adrastia mused, smothering a smile when she saw the discomfort bloom in the body language of the metamorphmagus and the veela.

"Not until I start dressing like Dumbledore and taking up a ridiculous fake name like Riddle." Harry deadpanned after a moment's surprise that she would go there.

"I did not need that mental image." Tonks said with audible cringe.

"Me neither." Fleur agreed with a grimace of her own.

"I don't get it." Luna frowned in puzzlement.

"I am sure Harry will be able to explain the nuances of prostitution in recent times to you later." Adrastia chuckled.

Harry gave her a Look. Explaining the 'nuances of prostitution' to Luna would require him to actually research them first and that seemed like time that he was never going to get back, even if it only took thirty minutes or so.

"We're done here for the moment. I'll summon you if I need anything more." He said, essentially finishing the conversation.

"When and how will I get my next dose of the Elixir?" Adrastia asked as they all stood up.

Harry cast a quick summoning spell at a shelf, seding a carved wooden box flying into his hands.

"Here." He said, handing it to her.

Adrastia opened the box eagerly and smiled gleefully at the half dozen vials contained within.

"Pay attention to your body. When a persistent lethargy sets in and your skin starts to feel achy, that means that the Elixir is wearing off and you should take another dose. You can take two doses at once with no issues, so there's no need to worry about taking them too close together, but I wouldn't advise taking three at once and absolutely do not take four."

Adrastia didn't take her eyes off the vials the whole time he was talking, apparently mesmerised. Harry was almost wondering if he was going to have to repeat himself when she finally looked up at him.

"Thank you." She said with more sincerity than he'd ever seen from her.

Harry didn't really know how to respond to that, so he elected to just push through. "The box is spelled to only open for you and I trust that I don't need to warn you not to share this with anyone?"

The deadpan look this got him somehow felt extremely funny.

XXXXX

Once Adrastia was gone, little box of immortality in hand, Fleur turned towards Harry with a questioning face.

"What are we going to do about this vampire problem?" She asked.

"For the moment, nothing." Harry replied with a frown. "We'll make use of the information of course, but I'd really rather not get tangled up in some convoluted plot with the noseless nuisance still at large."

"But Adrastia said we're already tangled up in it." Luna pointed out.

"We can start cutting strings later. First, there's hunting to be done."

XXXXX

The hunting didn't begin immediately. Harry wasn't willing to take Bjomolf's information at face value, so he had to verify it first. Even without that, preparations had to be made in order to maximize its use. That took about a week, after which the hunting began.

Voldemort didn't notice anything at first. Not only was he busy keeping a low profile and putting his chosen Death Eaters through hellish training, but he was also not approptiately paranoid even in the face of the setbacks and defeats he had suffered. Arrogance remained his worst blind spot.

Still, it was only a matter of time before he learned that many of his unmarked Death Eaters had vanished mysteriously. These had been all across Europe and their job had been to simply go about their lives and quietly talk like-minded individuals into joining up as well with promises of wealth and power.

Voldemort had been certain that, since they weren't really doing anything noteworthy, they were undetectable. Being unpleasantly surprised yet again did his temper no favors. He relocated those that hadn't been snatched in a hurry and seethed, plotting retribution against his enemy for daring to upset him again. He didn't think of it in those terms, but that was what it boiled down to. It wasn't really a war to seize political power anymore, having since mutated into a personal vendetta.

The problem remained the same as it had always been. How to strike back? Harry lived on a heavily fortified island and had long since moved any vulnerable associations and their families there.

Oh, there were a few places that he could strike at, such as the Potter Communications building in Diagon Alley and the much smaller clothing store he was known to endorse and partially own, but those were not enough to satisfy his need for revenge. There were other Potter Communications stores and offices all over magical enclaves all over the world, but destroying those wouldn't be enough either. It wouldn't be _personal._

Inspiration struck him when one Death Eater, eager to to anything at all that would cool the Dark Lord's rage by even a single degree, related a rumor he'd heard that Ginny Weasley had rekindled her friendship and more with Harry Potter.

The rumor was a load of hippogriff shit, as rumors tended to be. After failing to convince her daughter to come back home, Molly Weasley had complained loudly and vocally about it to anyone that would listen, including her closest magical neighbours, the Diggorys.

Mrs. Diggory had listened to Molly with commiseration, nodding at all the right places, saying all the right things and agreeing that associating with a dangerous philanderer like Harry Potter wasn't something that a young lady like Ginny should be doing.

It should be noted at this point that the world's magical cultures in general and that of the British Isles in particular were not exactly homogenous.

Muggleborns weren't truly despised until recently, as a direct result of the modern values of equality for all that had been conceived in the mundane world over the past century or so and which the purebloods felt so threatened by. In all the previous eras, both magical and mundane people shared a belief in class distinction and were able to mostly get along even if they didn't always agree about who belonged in which social class.

With the social hierarchy being more or less stable until recently, Magical Britain's culture ran the gamut from early medieval to modern as new blood was introduced in a steady trickle and each new era saw new families establish themselves in the community. These families usually lost touch with the mundane world from which they'd come within a generation and suffered from the frozen-in-amber effect that the magical world was so good at producing.

The cultural stasis wasn't perfect of course. The human inclination to fit in came into play and everyone made an automatic subconscious effort prevent their society from looking completely fractured and there was some unavoidable bleed through, especially within the halls of Hogwarts, but by and large Magical Britain was a mish-mash of culture bubbles from various eras.

The Weasleys and Prewetts were a bit of an exception to the norm. Although both old families, they lacked the wealth to really be part of the social elite that their long lineage should have put them in, so they avoided the hidebound traditionalism that kept the attitudes of their fellow purebloods stagnant. Because of this, Molly most closely resembled a mid 20th century housewife, tempered by the fact that she was a more forceful personality and a more powerful witch than her husband.

Conversely, the Diggorys were not a terribly old family. Just old enough that almost nobody still living recalled them having any non-magical relatives and old enough that they'd had no contact with the mundane world in just over a hundred and fifty years.

Mrs. Diggory wouldn't have _quite_ fit into Victorian era England, but it would be close. Because of this, she had certain... _views_ on propriety and what happened when a young woman went to stay with a known womaniser all by herself. Her perceptions twisted Molly's tale of woe into something rather more scandalous when she eventually retold it.

Of course, the person she told it to added another twist or two and within weeks it was a juicy open secret in Magical Britain that Ginny Weasley was Harry Potter's latest harem girl. They had been friends once, didn't you know?

The gossip columnists at Teen Witch Weekly caught wind of it as well. 'Didn't you used to date Ron Weasley?' someone asked the newly-employed Lavender Brown, who confirmed it. In the eyes of gossipmongers, this was nearly as good as being in the bedroom while Ginny was being ravaged by the insatiable dark lusts of Harry Potter, as one particularly dramatic idiot put it, so she was assigned to write the article. Lavender was ecstatic because it would give her huge exposure and be a great springboard for her career, so she really gave it her all, putting enough speculation and sensationalism into it to impress even Rita Skeeter. As soon as it was published, the story gained legitimacy in the eyes of the sheep, which was why that one Death Eater felt it was worth risking the Dark Lord's wrath by relating it to him.

So, yeah. Hippogriff shit. Nonetheless, Voldemort seized upon it with utter glee.

XXXXX

 _October 6th, 2018._

When Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived on Spellhaven in his official capacity as an Auror, Harry immediately knew that it was going to be bad news. Police, military or government officials never came in person to deliver good news.

When he asked to talk to Ginny, the possibilities were narrowed down even further. Obviously, something had happened to the other Weasleys and that something probably called itself Voldemort. After that, it was fairly easy to guess at the approximate chain of events that led to Shacklebolt being present on Spellhaven.

This annoyed Harry quite a bit. He hadn't spared much thought for Ginny and honestly barely even saw her these days, which is why it hadn't occured to him that Voldemort might target her family. Some of that annoyance was aimed at Ginny for not considering the possibility herself.

When Ginny arrived, Shacklebolt proceeded to tell her pretty much exactly what Harry had already guessed at. Charlie Weasley had gone back to his job in Romania some time ago and Bill had been working late at Gringotts when the attack happened, so they were still safe, but the others were gone.

Arthur, Molly and Ron had been at the Burrow, which was now a burned out husk with the Dark Mark floating over it.

Percy had seemingly been snatched right on the doorstep of his modest home. There were no signs of a struggle except for some faded spell traces.

The twins had put up more of a fight, as their joke shop and upstairs appartment in Diagon Alley was a veritable warzone, but they had been taken nonetheless. Their long term girlfriends were out of the country on a quidditch tour with the Holyhead Harpies. Lucky them.

Cue the hysterics and shortly after that, Ginny turning to him with desperate eyes and asking him to save her family.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. Rescue missions. He hated rescue missions. He especially hated rescue missions that were obvious traps.

"Harry, please! You have to help!" Ginny wailed desperately when he didn't reply to her first entreaty.

No, he really didn't have to, in the strictest sense of the word. In fact, Ginny insisting that he simply _had_ to made him want to _not_ help simply to demonstrate that fact. Kind of petty, but...eh.

Unfortunately, Luna was also giving him a look that said she had absolute faith in him and Dora was right next to her with her own 'I-know-you-don't-want-to-but-do-it-for-me' look. Adrastia had been so right, women _were_ manipulative by nature. Fleur was the only one that didn't seem to care one way or another.

"Fine, we'll help." He muttered. What a waste of a perfectly good Saturday, maybe even the whole weekend. Ginny's obvious relief was no compensation, but the proud smiles on Luna and Dora's faces did at least blunt his irritation.

"Both Madam Bones and Dumbledore have asked me to offer you whatever help you need." Shacklebolt added.

Harry responded to that with a non-descript grunt of acknowledgement, privately thinking of how ridiculous it was that a senior Auror thought it was normal to be taking orders from two leaders at the same time. Dumbledore was still making a mess of Britain's magical government simply by virtue of existing.

"So, now what?" Ginny asked shakily, wiping her eyes with a sleeve.

"Now we wait for the noseless wonder to throw out the bait."

"You think this is a trap of some kind?" Shacklebolt asked in surprise.

"Duh." Harry rolled his eyes. "You think it's concidental that the Weasleys were targeted so soon after Ginny showed up in Spellhaven?"

"That's a good point." Shacklebolt nodded, somehow both grimly and awkwardly. "I heard that Ms. Weasley had joined your...err...arrangement."

 _Ah, so that's what did it._ Harry mused to himself while Ginny erupted into denials, Luna helpfully pointed out that he'd only just acquired his latest mistress a couple of weeks ago and wasn't looking for any more at present and the other two just looked on in amusement as the chaos unfolded.

None of them really followed the news back in Britain except perhaps Narcissa, but even that was sporadic. A dumb rumor like this might not have reached them for a long time, if ever. That meant that Voldemort either still had some sources there or one of his remaining minions kept up on the gossip.

Oh, it seems that Ginny had already known about these rumors due to some teasing by the twins. That she hadn't considered the repercussions said quite a lot about her lack of foresight.

Harry started nibbling on Fleur's earlobe. It was a more interesting thing to do than discussing what kind of dumb shit the British magical population had invented about them this time.

"But we can't just wait for You-Know-Who to contact us!" Ginny's insistent voice cut through Fleur's purring. Apparently the conversation had swung back to the point while he hadn't been paying attention.

"You say that as if you're going to be part of the action." Harry noted after disengaging from the yummy earlobe, amused by her presumption.

"It's my family that was taken!" Ginny retorted angrily.

"So?"

"What Harry means to say is that you aren't ready to fight the Death Eaters." Dora interjected diplomatically.

"I want to help!" The redhead insisted stubbornly.

"Then stay out of the way." Harry spoke up before Dora could pussyfoot around again. Being nice was fine and all, but it was best to crush any stupid notions as soon as possible.

"Just leave it to us, Ginny." Luna chimed in and rubbed her friend's back.

Ginny looked like she was ready to start crying again out of sheer frustration. Weak people problems.

A pale-faced Narcissa suddenly burst into the room, holding a communication mirror as if it would bite her.

"Harry." She said, holding the mirror out to him and swallowing fearfully. "It's V-Voldemort."

"That was strangely well-timed." Harry commented and took the mirror, looking at the pasty noseless face of his enemy. "Tom, I see you've been modernising. Would you mind filling out a customer satisfaction survey to give a Dark Lord's perspective on my merchandise?"

"Potter." Voldemort hissed, red eyes nearly glowing with fury and madness. "I'm sure you've heard by now that I have your little blood traitor slut's family."

"Are you still on about that pureblood nonsense?" Harry sighed. "Just give it up already, by this point pretty much everyone knows you don't really give a fuck about that."

"Insolent boy!" Voldemort spat. "Maybe this will teach you some respect. _Crucio_! _"_

A female scream of agony was heard through the mirror. Harry held back a wince. Molly Weasley was even more unpleasant to the ear when she was being tortured.

"MUM!" Ginny screamed and tried to dive for the mirror, as if that would somehow help. Luna and Dora grabbed her before she got far.

"How is that supposed to teach _me_ anything?" Harry asked in a deadpan. "Have you been drinking snake oil again?"

Voldemort abruptly seemed to come down from his fiery enraged state and entered a more chilly enraged state. "Come to Glastonbury Tor, alone, if you ever want to see the blood traitors again." He hissed softly and cut the connection.

Harry put down the mirror and considered that brief conversation. Voldemort had seemed considerably more unhinged than normal. The light of madness in his eyes was stronger and there had also been a an odd sense of disconnect, as if the noseless one was only hearing him, but not really listening.

"Why Glastonbury Tor?" Dora asked with a frown.

"The same reason as always." Harry groused. "Because he's a fucking drama queen and some random patch of grass just wouldn't do."

"You are not going alone, obviously." Fleur stated rather than asked.

"Obviously." He agreed.

"But he said he'll kill them if you bring anyone with you." Ginny piped up frantically.

Harry barely refrained from giving her the contemptous look that statement deserved. "He's intending to kill them no matter what and walking to my death like a chump isn't going to change that."

XXXXX

"Not good." David shook his head grimly after they explained what was up. "In a normal hostage situation, the other guy always wants something. All Riddle wants is to hurt you and if he can't do it directly then he'll try to do it by proxy. There's not much chance of them getting out of this alive."

"Yeah, I figured." Harry sighed.

"There has to be something we can do." Dora said unhappily, Luna frowning at her elbow.

"Maybe if you convince him that you really don't care about what happens to them and that it isn't worth killing them, but don't get your hopes up. Nothing you've told me about this guy says that he's likely to let people live when he can kill them instead." David shook his head again, not looking any happier than them.

XXXXX

Glastonbury Tor was a cone-shaped hill with a tower built on top of it that had some connection to Arthurian legend, which was probably why Voldemort had picked this spot.

Harry approved of the tower, even if it was a bit underwhelming. Towers were cool and there weren't enough of them in the world.

This particular tower, underwhelmingly named St. Michael's Tower, currently had six redheads tied up in the middle of it.

Harry dismissed the raven that had informed him of this and started walking up the concrete path to the small hill's summit at a leisurely pace. In his mind, he was already picking out the best way to tell Ginny that most of her family was now dead. Should he be as blunt as a hammer or attempt feigning compassion?

It wasn't that he wouldn't _try_ to save them, but like David said, the odds were not good. There were Anti-Apparition and Anti-Portkey wards in place over the hill and those were probably not the only spells that had been used to prevent an easy rescue. Magic could make things so very complicated if you had a little preparation.

Harry had been careful to prevent this situation from happening with good reason and was actually quite angry with Ginny for cooking it up for him anyway. Did nobody except him think about the consequences of their actions? If this ended in grief as he expected it to, then the little twit deserved it.

And yes, Harry was aware of how hypocritical it was of him to be scowling at people for not thinking of the consequences when his body was littered with the scars of thoughtless action.

It didn't take long to reach the small tower and he got his first look at the captured Weasleys. They were shackled to the floor with transfigured chains and forced into an obviously uncomfortable kneeling position, looking rather worse for the wear. Fred, or possibly Geroge, was even missing an arm. Their eyes lit up with hope at the sight of him, although they still seemed terrified.

"Good day." Harry said cordially, stopping just outside the tower.

"I'm af-f-raid it really h-h-hasn't been, H-Harry old chap." George, or possibly Fred, the one who still had both arms ar any rate, said with badly strained and obviously forced humor. His speech was interrupted by muscle spasms characteristic of prolonged Cruciatus exposure and his voice was hoarse.

"I can see that." Harry nodded. "But I can at least assure you with reasonable certainty that the worst is behind you."

"Oh, but I don't think it is, Harry Potter." A new voice interjected, hissing and malicious.

Voldemort let the Disillusionment Charm fade and stood behind the bound Weasleys, wand in hand and staring at Harry with intent malevolence.

"Why would you not think so?" Harry asked without missing a beat, feigning puzzlement. "They'll either die here or be free. Both option are better than being your 'guests'."

"Don't try to pretend you don't care what happens to them!" The Dark Lord seethed. "You were quick enough to move the families of your other sluts out of my reach,"

"You need to stop getting your information from rumors." Harry stated flatly. "I'm not fucking Ginny Weasley. Nothing about her interests me, not her looks and not her spirit."

"Then why are you here?" Voldemort asked smugly, as if he'd just scored some great victory.

"Because the women I _do_ care about would be disappointed in me if I just shrugged and told you to kill them."

Harry noticed that Voldemort was getting more and more agitated beneath his relatively calm exterior. His aura, on previous ocasions a contained maelstrom of volatile emotions, was now far more chaotic. The fear was more prevalent, the hatred stronger and both were bleeding heavily into the river of calm that denoted pure reasoning. The Dark Lord had always been psychotic and prone to outbursts of sadism, but now he seemed truly insane. The impression that he wasn't really listening was also present again.

"And here you are, alone." Air hissed through Voldemort's nose slits as he gloated, his face stretched into a mad grin. "Come to die. Reveal yourselves, my Death Eaters."

The dozen or so Death Eaters that had been hiding under their own Disillusionment Charms shimmered into visibility, surrounding them.

Harry briefly closed his eyes, calling up the wolf spirit he had mastered what felt like a lifetime ago. He had received a renewed bout of interest in Skinwalking after the 'lesson' with Adrastia. The skill had never been terribly useful in battle for several reasons, chief among them being the unhealthy instinct to always close into melee range and attack with claws or fangs.

But after getting a feel for Adrastia's manipulation of instinct and some time spent experimenting in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, he had learned how to keep the wolf from supplanting the man.

He felt the change come. His teeth sharpened ever so slighty, his muscles rippled under his skin and his fingernails blackened so much that they looked rather embarrasingly goth at first glance in their dark sharpness, until one noticed that they were too thick to be fingernails. The most prominent change were his eyes, however, which now glowed a fierce yellow.

"Was that supposed to be a surprise?" Harry mocked, opening his eyes and baring his teeth aggressively. "Girls, come on out."

Fleur, Luna and Dora came out of their own invisibility, hovering in the air around them outside of Voldemort's sensing range, surrounding the encirclement of Death Eaters in turn.

Voldemort looked slightly taken aback by the change, but rallied quickly. He didn't ask what was going on, either not caring or knowing that he wouldn't get an answer. He focused on something else instead. "You were told to come alone!"

"And you thought I was going to listen?"

"You have just signed these blood traitors' death warrant!"

"Better them than me." Harry shrugged, ignoring the Weasleys' horrified looks.

Voldemort sneered, and Harry's now enhanced vision detected the subtle movements that indicated impending violence even as his Magesight picked up the rising power of a forming spell. A wolf might see a more narrow band of the visible light spectrum than a human, but it was highly optimised towards detecting motion, as befit a predator. A very useful thing in a fight, as was the superior reaction speed that resulted from it.

The Dark Lord threw out a vicious curse and Harry sidestepped it, but couldn't retaliate. Although he wouldn't be terribly broken up about the Weasleys dying even though he did like the twins, he also wasn't willing to carve through them to get at Voldemort.

By the sick glee on his face, Voldemort had been counting on just that, and he continued hurling curses with abandon, safe behind his human shield.

The girls were in a similar bind. Although they had the superior mobility and power, they couldn't fight back too vigorously for fear of harming him or causing too much damage to the hill itself and destabilising the tower.

And the Death Eaters were unusually competent this time around. Not significantly more powerful in any meaningful fashion, but they were working together in distinct units and the spells they were tossing out were no joke. Their auras were also a good deal more twisted than Harry recalled.

Bringing hostages into battle was a new tactic for Voldemort and his minions, but honestly not a surprising one. That being said, it was definitely a problematic one.

Harry was also noticing that Voldemort wasn't using any spells that could be 'bounced' off a shield or parried with his staff. All of his curses had to be either countered, avoided or absorbed, giving him nothing that he could use to redirect at the Death Eaters. And he couldn't take a moment to cast his own spells at the Death Eaters either, as Voldemort was too dangerous an opponent to be ignored for even a moment.

The situation was untenable, so Harry leapt backwards and flew out of effective combat range, the girls following his example soon after. The exchange of spells had lasted less than ten seconds. The four of them now hovered some distance away while the Death Eaters and their master stayed near the tower and their hostages.

"'Lord' Voldemort certainly has fallen low, hiding behind weaklings." Harry mocked, hoping to goad him into doing something dumb to defend his pride.

"And why not? You hide behind your women!" Voldemort glared back. A jumbled mass of emotions radiated from his red eyes, fear, hate and triumph most prominent among them.

Harry narrowed stared back unblinkingly and grasped for a tactic that would remove the captive Weasleys from the battlefield.

The Raven Host and the Aurors were nearby, but bringing more force to bear on the situation wasn't going to help this time.

He had personally found Voldemort's speed advantage to be a little less pronounced this time, but once again, not helpful with the noseless wonder using meat shields.

Realistically the only way to save the Weasleys would be to provoke Voldemort into abandoning his advantage, but that didn't seem to be working.

More ruthless solutions included collapsing the tower and writing the Weasleys off as collateral damage, or simply retreating and abandoning them to their fate. Of the two, burying them under rubble was the less cruel option.

Fucking hell, they couldn't even trap Voldemort and the Death Eaters here. The area was too open to hide a bunch of people putting up a second set of blocking wards over the first and they no doubt had portkeys attuned to their own wards to take them away if things got dicey.

In the privacy of his own mind, Harry once again cursed at Ginny Weasley for not predicting this situation.

"What are we going to do?" Dora asked quietly, no doubt coming to a similar set of conclusions.

"It seems that the great Harry Potter is not interested in saving you." Voldemort's mocking voice sounded before Harry could answer. Although he was ostensibly talking to the Weasleys, the words were obviously not meant for them. " _Crucio!_ "

Harry couldn't tell which one of them was screaming this time, just that it was one of the men.

"Blind them!" He ordered quickly, not wanting any precipitous action on Dora's part.

The girls used their staves to suck in the surrounding sunlight, causing a strange distortion effect around the solar focusing crystals even as they started to glow.

Once they were done, they released the gathered power in a wide beam, not unlike a very powerful searchlight.

The Death Eaters cried out in shock and were forced to close their eyes or have their retinas burned out. The started casting shield charms blindly, expecting further attack.

Voldemort was the only one spared the attack, busy as he was torturing the Weasleys inside St. Michael's Tower, but Harry had a plan for him too. Instead of going after the Death Eaters, he cast a powerful disintegration curse at the tower itself, causing it to rapidly turn to dust.

The Dark Lord responded quickly, casting a transparet shield that blocked out the glare of redirected sunlight.

"Mudslides!" Harry commanded next.

He and Fleur cast a spell to churn up the ground, while Dora and Luna made a high-rise fly-by and conjured a torrent of water over the heads of the enemy.

The tactic would have made every bit of ground except the stone foundations of the tower unsteady and perhaps even carried off some Death Eaters on a ride downhill, had it worked.

Unfortunately the spell to churn up the ground was very easy to block and didn't achieve as much as they might have hoped. The conjured water didn't even achieve that much, as Voldemort used a wide area counterspell to cancel out the conjuration before it could hit the earth.

Harry bared his teeth down at the hill in frustration as Luna and Dora returned. The four of them were mostly safe from return fire at this distance unless they started daydreaming, but the situation still hadn't markedly improved. The Death Eaters were sitting ducks, that was true, but actually shooting them would mean potentially killing the Weasleys as well even without the danger of the tower collapsing on them.

"Stop! One more spell and a blood traitor dies!" Voldemort shouted, pointing his wand at Arthur Weasley's head.

And then there was _that_ , of course.

"And then what, Tom?" Harry asked back. "What is the actual fucking point of this confrontation anyway? We're not going to let ourselves get killed and I'm not going to trade you back any of your captured minions in return for that bunch of gingers, so what the fuck are we even doing here?"

"The point is for you to SUFFER!" Voldemort roared out in a fury. The crazy in his eyes shone bright.

"Yeah, nice going. You ruined my weekend. The pain is real." Harry retorted in a sarcastic deadpan.

Arthur Weasley's head exploded in a shower of gore as Voldemort's silent, rage-powered curse obliterated it.

There was a moment of shock as everyone processed what had just happened. Harry thought that even _Voldemort_ looked a bit surprised at what he'd done. Then things spiralled out of control.

"ARTHUR!" The newly widowed Molly Weasley wailed in grief.

The twins were too stunned to react, but the other two Weasley boys had always been more mouth than brain.

"Potter, you evil bastard!" Ron shouted, pulling on his restraints.

Had he more time, Harry would have perhaps taken the effort to lecture the idiot on the finer points of placing blame where it belongs and the power dynamics of a hostage situation. Or perhaps not, the youngest Weasley boy had always been as thick as a sack of hammers by all accounts. It was unlikely that he'd listen on a good day, which this was not.

Percy was shouting threats of Ministry retribution. Grief had clrealy driven him to delusion.

Meanwhile, Fleur and Dora gathered sunlight into their staves again, this time unleashing it on the Death Eaters in tightly focused beams that did more than just blind.

The black-robed wizards scattered like mice and mostly managed to avoid the deadly attack, but one lost a leg and another was cut into two burning halves.

Luna cast a transfiguration to enclose the surviving Weasleys in a stone dome, but Voldemort wasn't having it. He rose into the air and fired a powerful blasting curse directly at them.

Harry took the opportunity to nail the Dark Lord with a bolt of lightning.

Voldemort screamed in pain as his smoking body was sent flying out of the air, but he disappeared in a portkey transportation before he hit the ground. The Death Eaters went with him. Well, most of them at any rate. The two that Fleur and Dora had hit left some pieces behind.

Despite this being his first solid hit on the mad fucker, none of them were feeling in a celebratory mood with Weasley chunks scattered over half the damn hill.

 _What a mess_. Harry thought sourly as the Aurors closed in, already demanding explanations.

The worst part for him was that this entire incident had been completely and utterly _pointless_. Voldemort had abducted and now killed the Weasleys out of pure spite more than any hope that it would actually achieve anything. Negotiation had been impossible from the start, leaving only convincing him that he didn't care what happened to them one way or the other as an option for saving them.

And now he got to tell an over-emotional girl that six of her family members were dead. Joy.

XXXXX

Narcissa had let Bill and Charlie join their sister on Spellhaven while the battle was going on so that Ginny would have her older brothers to rely on for support.

Informing the three of what had happened didn't go well, as expected. While Bill and Charlie were hit hard by the news, they had nothing on Ginny's reaction.

The redhead sobbed and wailed hysterically, then she started angrily blaming Harry for failing to save them, then she went back to crying in Bill's arms.

Harry managed to restrain the urge to snap at her.

Bill and Charlie eventually led her away, quietly telling Harry and the girls that they didn't blame them for failing to save their parents and siblings.

Harry was just glad that he wouldn't have a hysterical girl in anywhere near his life. Sensitivity was not his strong suit, especially when there was no sex involved.

XXXXX

The aftermath of the latest battle against Voldemort was significantly easier to deal with than the ones before. Glastonbury Tor has been cleaned of blood and battle damage easily enough, but the tower was a lost cause, much to the baffked horror of England's historians and culture preservation people.

Ownership of the twins' joke shop had defaulted to him instead of the surviving Weasleys due to the weird ways that corporate laws were structured in Magical Britain. No doubt another mechanic to keep wealth in the hands of the wealthy. In any case, Harry didn't need any prodding to make an offer to Bill Weasley about selling the business and giving him all the profits, seeing as he had no interest in actually running a joke shop. It had been quite successful with Fred and George at the helm, but entirely useless for someone with little interest in pranking and he didn't need the extra money anyway, so being generous came easy for a change.

That was really all the aftermath there was and things settled back down in less than a week.

Harry continued to scour Europe for Death Eaters. He employed the Palantíri, his ravens, local news sources and Adrastia's own forming network. There wasn't terribly much luck, but he did manage to pick up a few.

The most annoying bit was when another mysterious hint made its way into his hands, this time through a completely harmless letter written in a combination of regular and vanishing ink. Most of the words disappeared while Penny was reading it, leaving behind only a location.

Harry didn't appreciate the unsubtle reminder of vampire interest. He still didn't really want to deal with Bjomolf and decided to once again put off doing so.

XXXXX

Voldemort's aftermath was substantially more painful, both for him and his minions.

The lighting bolt he'd been hit with had hurt and left him with lichtenberg scars all over his left flank, but done no permanent damage. He was back in top form within three days and more pissed off than ever. He'd not only failed to do any harm to his enemy, but he'd also been marked.

And he couldn't even get rid of the scarring! He was a very good potioneer, but healing potions never came out right for him. It had never been an issue since that was what he had Snape for, but Snape was gone now.

The following weeks, his temper soured further as several more of his supposedly undercover Death Eaters vanished. His plans of revenge got increasingly more extreme as his anger grew and restraint evaporated.

Still, Voldemort had learned something from that fight nonetheless and his eyes often gleamed with ancitipatory malice while he was torturing/teaching his most competent minions for the new plan he had concocted.

XXXXX

 _December 31st, 2018._

"He's doing _WHAT_?" Harry roared at the mirror in disbelief.

The barely restrained panic on Amelia Bones' face had nothing to do with his shouting. "He's attacking muggle London with giants and inferi. We need you there NOW!"

The connection cut off and Harry just stood there for a long, utterly baffled moment. What the shit was Voldemort _thinking_?! Mounting what sounded like a full scale assault on the non-magical parts of London? On New Years Eve of all days? Seriously, what the actual fuck?

XXXXX

 **I was originally intending to include the battle as well, but this chapter is already quite a bit bigger than originally intended, so my original intentions have been put on the backburner. Again. This does create a bit of a cliffhanger, but I'm sure you guys don't mind.**


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